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hairstevington · 1 year

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i can't tune you out (part 1)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Eddie Munson is an up-and-coming rock and roll artist living in LA. Steve Harrington (under the stage name HARVEST) has been taking the radio by storm lately. When the fans start shipping them together as a couple, Steve and Eddie consider it an opportunity to boost their upcoming albums. There's just one problem - they can't stand each other. (Link to Ao3)

Part 2 Part 3 - the rest on Ao3!

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Rockstar!Eddie, Indie!Steve, modern day AU, enemies to lovers, slow burn, fake dating/PR relationship, they are both assholes lowkey but they'll get better later in the fic I promise, Drunk!Steve, Nancy is still a heartbreaker, oh look Robin and Chrissy are also here

A/N: Here you have it folks, the much awaited return of Rockstar!Eddie. I've had this story on the backburner for a while now and am so excited to dive into it! Don't worry - I will be updating Flowers and Ink soon, I just got inspired and wrote this first chapter as a little teaser for you all ;)

It all started with a t-shirt.

Steve was playing his own show the night Robin went to a Corroded Coffin concert with a friend from work. He wasn’t upset or anything, because Robin had been to Steve’s shows countless times in the past. Besides, he didn’t like Corroded Coffin’s music anyway.

Apparently, Robin liked the show enough to go to the merch table, where she bought a Corroded Coffin t-shirt, and the rest is history.

“Ridiculous,” Steve muttered to himself. His dryer was busted AGAIN, which meant he had to call the stupid landlord to have it fixed AGAIN.

He’d been so busy with shows that he hadn’t had a lot of time to do laundry, and this was him finally catching up. Of course, the damn thing broke. Now he had no clothes.

He sighed and went to the designated Robin drawer she insisted she have at Steve’s apartment. She was there a lot of nights anyway, so she always kept some pajamas and things just in case. Thank god for Robin’s love of oversized clothing.

He grabbed the first shirt he saw, threw it on, and headed to the grocery store.

Steve wasn’t even conscious of what the shirt said. Maybe he should have glanced in the mirror before he left, but he was tired and just needed to get food for the week. He’d been out of town on tour for a while now, so there was nothing at home.

People were staring at him, but that wasn’t too unusual. His stage name was HARVEST, which was nice because he could separate himself from his music when he wanted to. His persona when he performed was vastly different to the guy wandering a grocery store in his best friend’s clothes, and he liked that. It was freeing. It gave him some semblance of privacy, because most fans of his music didn’t even know his real name.

The more devoted fans, however…

People took his picture sometimes without asking first. That was common. It wasn’t great, but it was common. Steve was never that concerned with looking ugly on the internet, anyway. Although, if people went up to him and asked, he usually said yes if they were nice about it.

It took about three hours for the notifications to pour in. Steve ignored them, at first. His publicist would handle whatever it was. But then, Robin called.

“Steve!” she greeted when he answered. “You wore my shirt out?”

“Uh, yeah?” Steve responded. He looked down to see that it was a band t-shirt. Nothing too crazy about it. “That okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she assured him. “It’s just funny because somehow now people think you’re Corroded Coffin’s number one fan.”

“That’s…strange,” Steve said, confused. “All because I wore their shirt one time?”

“Yeah, well people looked into it and they found out you and Eddie Munson went to high school together -”

“Ah,” Steve acknowledged, starting to understand.

“- and now people are shipping you with him and all that.”

“Wait, what?” Steve’s face fell. “They’re - Like, that’s insane. It’s only been a few hours and - I mean, I don’t even know the guy.”

“Yeah, but do you remember that TikTok you made last year?” she asked. “The one where you took the metal song and stripped it down, sang it in your style instead?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so.”

Steve did that a few times with a variety of genres. He liked taking music to weird and unexpected places. So, sometimes when there was a viral song or sound, he’d put his own spin on it.

“Okay, well that was a Corroded Coffin song,” Robin explained.

“It…was?” Steve genuinely had no idea. He didn’t look into the artist before he’d made the video.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“No,” Steve answered. “So, that combined with the t-shirt and now people think I’m having an affair with this guy or something?” He scoffed. He’d never understand why people were so hellbent on creating stories from nothing.

“It’s just the internet, Steve,” Robin replied. “People say all kinds of things.”

“Yeah, but -” Steve sighed, shutting his eyes tightly. It wasn’t just that he was being shipped with some random guy, it was that Steve wasn’t even out yet. It was kind of a whole thing he and his team had been working on. His new album was supposed to announce it, not some random pairing based on zero evidence.

“Yeah, I know,” Robin said. Steve knew she understood completely, even without him saying anything. She knew his sexuality before he did. “I promise it’s not a huge deal. Sorry the internet sucks.”

“Thanks,” Steve responded. He hung up, groaned, and collapsed onto his couch, where he fell into a deep sleep.

“Eddie, we can use this.”

Eddie held back the groan he so desperately wanted to let out. He was on the phone with his manager, Carla, who had just told him that people online were pairing him with some other musician that Eddie had heard on the radio a few times and - yikes. It wasn’t his vibe.

“Use it for…?” he asked, completely nonplussed. He picked up a rubber band ball on his desk and rolled it around in his hands.

“You both have albums coming out soon,” she continued. “So, if you’re dating him then - I mean, think of the publicity.”

“Dating him?” Eddie echoed, confused. “Aren’t we jumping the gun, here? Do we even know if this dude likes other dudes in the first place?”

“No, but you should find out,” Carla insisted. “I mean, it’s HARVEST, Eddie. His music is everywhere right now.”

Eddie knew that much, at least. He didn’t listen to the music when he could help it, but people talked about it all the time. The mysterious HARVEST who wore disguises on stage and left cryptic posts on social media. Eddie couldn’t think of a single person he wanted to date less, and he didn’t even know the guy’s name or what he looked like.

Eddie, on the other hand, had been busting his ass to maintain the little audience he’d accumulated over the last five years. Corroded Coffin started as a high school passion project, then devolved into a more serious band that played sporadic shows in his hometown, and then went through a series of changes and replacements until Eddie was the only original part of it that remained. Well, that and the name, of course.

Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin. They were pretty much synonymous at this point. The fans he had knew who he was and what he looked like. He rarely used social media, but when he interacted with fans he was blunt and to the point. No games. No mystery. This HARVEST guy kinda seemed like a tool.

“Yeah, I’ll pass,” Eddie said, snapping one of the rubber bands rhythmically.

“Eddie,” Carla prodded. “If you do this, you’ll blow up. Think of what you could do with the money. Merch. A tour. A vacation. A new house. Whatever you wanted, you could get.”

Money sounded nice, but it’s not like Eddie was living in poverty or anything. Well, he was in a tiny apartment in a shitty area of town, but it was Los Angeles. Who could afford anything more than that? Besides, he’d lived in places that small and shitty his whole life. Then again, he’d never had any other choice. Money would give him the choice.

The popularity aspect was also intriguing, because Eddie loved attention almost as much as he loved music. Sure, there were downsides to fame, but he adored the glimpses of it he’d had so far, and it’s not like being around HARVEST was going to turn him into Leo DiCaprio or something.

“Okay, so if I agree to this, what does that mean? Do you want me to DM him or something?”

“Actually,” Carla said. The playfulness in her tone caused Eddie to drop the rubber-band ball, because she only talked like that when she had a creative idea that he tended not to like. “He’s going to be at this launch party tonight that I may or may not have gotten you an invite to…”

Yup. That sounds about right.

“So you want me to crash the party and proposition this guy?” Eddie asked.

“Of course not,” she replied. “You’re invited, so it’s not crashing.”

Eddie had to chuckle at that one. She was a sneaky one, sometimes, and damn good at her job.

“Fine,” Eddie agreed. “Send me the details and I might go.”

“Will do!” Carla responded. He could hear how excited this made her, and he was glad at least one of them was into this whole thing. “You don’t have to do anything too wild, okay? Even if you’re just spotted with him, it will spread the narrative that something is going on. Deal?”

It felt a little gross to go somewhere just to track a random guy down and cling to him for popularity. It was kind of a dick move, really. Then again, Eddie was kind of a dick.

“Deal,” he replied.

“This will never not be the coolest thing to ever happen to me,” Robin said, as she always does when Steve takes her as his plus one to events.

“Yeah, well since Nancy dumped my ass, get used to it,” he teased. “You’ll be filling in for a while.” Steve nudged her shoulder, causing her to laugh. She was wearing this beautiful, brand new jumpsuit. It was pressed and ironed and cost almost a full paycheck. Lucky for her, she didn’t have to pay for it. Steve was doing pretty damn well for himself financially.

The Uber driver pulled up to the bar and dropped them off. Since it was the grand opening or something, the place was entirely closed off and only people on a list were allowed in.

“Name?” the security guard said at the door.

“Uh,” Steve stuttered. He never knew which name was on these stupid lists. “Steve Harrington, and my guest.” He gestured to Robin beside him, who blushed.

The security guard nodded, crossed them off, then opened the door for them to go inside.

“Holy shit!” Robin said as they walked in. The place was nice, even by Steve’s standards. They headed to the bar to order their first round of drinks.

Steve went to these kinds of things pretty often - he’d go, have a few drinks, hang out with people, then do it all again a few weeks later. He enjoyed them, for the most part.

Well, except for one thing.

Steve choosing to do music under the stage name HARVEST was great in a lot of ways. It was kind of like the whole Miley Cyrus vs Hannah Montana thing, except Steve wasn’t gonna show up to these parties wearing sunglasses, a wig, and an ugly vest - his signature look when he performed. He showed up as Steve, who was a nobody, and that felt kind of lame. To everyone else at the party, he just looked like a normal guy. Even Robin stood out more than he did.

Steve had this whole thing where HARVEST rarely posted anything or did interviews, and when he did he was in disguise and using a voice changer. It started as a joke and then just…stuck. HARVEST was a completely separate entity from Steve. HARVEST was all the parts of him that made him popular in high school, and Steve was whatever was left underneath.

He and Robin enjoyed the night anyway. They were handing out some sponsored cocktail throughout the night until everyone was good and drunk. Whatever was in that thing was lethal. Steve had only had two and he was feeling pretty tipsy. Robin was already on the dance floor after one. She’d pulled him to the photo area while a slower song played, urging him to get a picture with her and commemorate the night before she got too sweaty from dancing.

They held up their branded glasses and smiled. The light flashed so bright they both winced, then laughed at their dramatic reaction. When they began stumbling away from the camera, Robin paused.

“What?” Steve asked, confused.

“Eddie Munson is here,” she said.

“Where?” Steve asked. She pointed vaguely in Eddie’s direction, trying to act like she was just playing with her hair. Steve searched the room until his eyes locked in on the curly-haired brunette that the world wanted him to be with, apparently. Eddie was at the bar, talking up some of the other guests. “What is he doing here?” Robin shrugged.

Steve had never seen Eddie at one of these parties before. His band wasn’t really that popular. Their only claim to fame so far was a chorus of one of their songs going viral on TikTok. Then, like an idiot, Steve had done a cover of the damn song, and now he was in a whole mess of a situation. Eddie Munson was going to inadvertently reveal Steve’s bisexuality before his album even came out.

It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, and Steve knew that. Fans were going to say what they were gonna say. But still, Eddie being at the party was a crazy coincidence, considering the circumstances.

Steve took a sip from his third cocktail and decided not to think about it.

Eddie had never in his life been invited to something like this before. He’d had to talk to a guard and get let in, like some bigshot celebrity. If being around this HARVEST guy gave Eddie more opportunities to go to shit like this, maybe it was worth it.

Once he got inside, he went to the bar to get a drink. They were serving some cocktail that Eddie had no interest in drinking, so he ordered a whiskey on the rocks as he chatted with the people around him. They were all nice, although it was a bit too loud to have any actual conversation. Plus, most of the guests were well on their way to being drunk.

All in all, it was Eddie’s exact kind of chaos.

He scanned the room for a man that matched his only reference point of what HARVEST looked like. Eddie had seen a few pictures of him on stage, and his outfits were always a little out there. He had different hair every time, but his absurd style stayed consistent.

Nobody at this goddamn party looked like that.

“Hey,” Eddie said after nudging the person beside him. “You know where HARVEST is?”

He realized as soon as he asked that he probably could have just Googled him to see what he looked like. Whatever.

“Uhh, you mean Steve?” the woman responded. “He’s here somewhere. His date is in this gorgeous glittery blue jumpsuit. Find her and you’ll find him. He follows her like a shadow.” She finished her description with a light chuckle. Eddie turned back to face the rest of the bar and continued searching the crowd.

Okay, first of all - Steve? The man, the myth, the legend known as HARVEST was actually just…a guy named Steve? Eddie almost burst out laughing.

Secondly, he brought a date. Of course he brought a date. A woman, at that. Eddie wasn’t cool enough to have a plus one, but Steve on the other hand…

Wow. Eddie didn’t think he’d be able to find the glittery jumpsuit as fast as he did, but it really was a dead giveaway. It sparkled under the lights of the bar, and the girl next to Eddie was right - it was gorgeous. Steve’s date was gorgeous overall, actually. No wonder he was following her around.

“Him?” Eddie asked, pointing to the guy dancing with the woman in the jumpsuit.

“Yup,” the guest at the bar confirmed. She took the last sip of her cocktail and set the glass down on the counter. “So, do you wanna dance?”

Eddie froze. He wasn’t a huge fan of dancing in public, and he also wasn’t sure if this dance was just a dance or if it was something else.

“Well, I, uhhhh -” he began. “I mean, I’m like - ya know - gay.” She laughed in response, her face red from the alcohol.

“No shit,” she replied. “You obviously have heart eyes for Steve, and he’s dancing with someone else, so let’s go out there and you can make him jealous and I can dance until someone who likes women steals me away.”

Eddie grinned. This chick was dope. He held out his hand for her to take it, and then he walked her to the dance floor. He figured that he could strike up a conversation, get Steve to take a picture with him at the photo area, and then call it a night.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he yelled over the music.

“Chrissy!” she yelled back.

“Eddie!” he responded. She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but notice how drop-dead gorgeous she was, too. Everyone at this party was perfect-looking, actually, and it was intimidating and weird. Eddie was grateful he'd decided to wear his nicer clothes.

And then they danced. Eddie did his best to jump to the music and twirl Chrissy around. Over the course of the first song she managed to glide them through the crowd and strategically place them right by Steve.

Chrissy was a total boss.

“STEVE!” she shouted, acting much drunker than she actually was. She threw her arms around Steve, who returned the hug with a warm smile. “How are you?”

Steve said something, but it was so loud on the dance floor that Eddie couldn’t hear it.

“I’M ROBIN,” blue jumpsuit woman said. She looked like she was having the time of her life. “NICE TO MEET YOU!”

“YOU TOO!” Chrissy replied. She turned to Eddie. “THIS IS MY FRIEND EDDIE!”

Oh, shit. Okay then.

Robin and Steve just kinda looked at him and didn’t say anything for a moment. There was no equally loud greeting for Eddie Munson, no sir. He immediately felt judged, and almost bolted right out of there. He didn’t fit in with this crowd at all.

“H-hi, Eddie!” Robin finally said. “I actually know you! I went to your show a few weeks ago!”

“Woah, really?” Eddie responded, shocked. Nobody had recognized him here, yet. Maybe he wasn’t so different from these people after all.

“YOU’RE A MUSICIAN, TOO?” Chrissy asked, amazed. Eddie nodded. Suddenly, the most beautiful man Eddie had ever seen approached Chrissy and asked her to dance. He recognized the guy as this famous actor who’d been in a ton of movies. Score for Chrissy, although she was perfect, too, and barely fazed. Instead, she took the actor’s hand and smiled. “GOTTA GO, SEE YOU GUYS LATER!”

And then, she was off. What a crazy life these people led.

Steve spoke again, but only Robin could hear him properly. She nodded, then gestured for Eddie to follow them to a less loud part of the bar.

“Much better,” Steve said once they could all hear themselves think again. The light in the bar was dim, so it was hard to make out all of Steve’s features, but Eddie could have sworn he looked familiar. “So, you’re the famous Eddie Munson?”

Eddie thought for sure he’d heard Steve wrong. Like, he must have, because no way in hell Eddie could be considered famous among this group of people. Unless Steve was being condescending, in which case…ugh. Sure, whatever.

“I - I mean, yeah,” Eddie replied. He turned back to Robin, who he already liked more than Steve. “So, you’ve seen Corroded Coffin in concert?”

“Yeah!” she said, her face lighting up at the question.

“Why?” Eddie asked before he could stop himself. Robin and Steve laughed. “I just mean, you’re not really my usual demographic -”

“I’m full of surprises, Eddie,” she teased. “Okay, so I only went because my friend had an extra ticket, but still.”

“Ouch,” Eddie responded with a laugh, clutching his heart as if he’d genuinely been distraught.

“What the fuck is in these things?” Steve said, staring intently at the drink in his hand.

“It’s basically a long island iced tea with all their cheapest liquor and a splash of sprite,” Eddie answered plainly.

“How did you know that?” Robin asked, amused.

“I asked,” Eddie replied with a shrug.

“The bartender?” Robin pressed. Eddie nodded.

“Yeah. I have this thing where I never shut up, so I tend to talk to everyone,” Eddie joked. Well, it wasn’t really a joke. “Anyway, how many have you had?” Steve’s brow furrowed as he desperately tried to remember his drink tally.

“One more than he should have had, apparently,” Robin said, taking the glass from Steve and setting it down on a table. “I’ll go get him some water.”

She disappeared with no further warning, leaving Eddie alone with Steve. Am I supposed to babysit this guy until she comes back or something?

“So, you and Robin,” Eddie said, shifting back and forth on his feet. He really could not for the life of him stop talking, especially with whiskey coursing through him. “Are you guys, like -?”

“Just friends,” Steve snapped back. He almost seemed pissed at the question. “She’s been my best friend for, god, I dunno, since college.”

“Cool,” Eddie replied. Steve was clearly very drunk, and Eddie wasn’t sure how much of that was contributing to his standoffishness. “Are you okay, man?”

“Why're you even here, dude?” Steve asked, his words slurred. “What made you come here?”

“Uhhh, I was invited?” Eddie answered. This guy’s a real trip.

“So it wasn’t because strangers online want us to be together, and if that happens you get more fame or whatever?”

Oh, damn. While that's exactly what was happening, Eddie sure as hell wasn't going to admit it. To save face, Eddie did what he did best - he defaulted to assholery.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he responded. “I’m here for the same reason you are.”

“So, it’s a total coincidence that I see you at one of these things for the first time the same day people started talking about us online?”

“Maybe I’ve been to a ton of these parties and you’ve just never noticed,” Eddie retorted.

“I doubt it,” Steve shot back.

“Why?”

“Because you’re hard to miss, Munson. Always have been,” Steve replied.

“Always?” Eddie echoed, confused. Then, the lights hit Steve’s face and illuminated it entirely. Enough for Eddie to remember where he’d seen him before.

“Got your water!” Robin announced as she returned. She handed Steve the new glass, and he took it without breaking eye contact with Eddie.

“Ohhhh my god,” Eddie said, stunned. “You're Steve Harrington. HARVEST is Steve goddamn Harrington.”

“Sure is,” Steve replied, his voice even.

“I missed something, didn’t I?” Robin asked.

“I mean, kind of,” Eddie said, raising his voice. “Just a couple years of King Steve bullying the school Freak.” Robin turned to Steve, alarmed.

“Wait, you bullied him?”

“How did you not know it was me?” Steve asked, getting agitated now. “Did you seriously come here to try to mooch off me without even doing your research first?”

“I never said I came here for you,” Eddie replied.

“You didn’t deny it either,” Steve reminded him. “You still aren’t, by the way.”

“Okay, fine!” Eddie relented. “You caught me. I came here to cash in on your fame, like some poor commoner in need of charity, and I didn’t even bother to look you up first because honestly? Your music kinda sucks.”

“Oh, I definitely missed something,” Robin muttered nervously.

“You wanna talk about shitty music?” Steve said through gritted teeth.

“Okay!” Robin interjected, inserting herself between them. “No more of this. It was nice meeting you, Eddie, but I think we should split.”

“No need,” Eddie replied. “You stay, I’ll go. You’re the ones who belong here anyway.” He did a slight bow and walked away, leaving Robin and Steve behind.

So much for fame.

@lemondar93 i thought the whole #steddie thing was a reach but saw them together tonight and uhhhh 👀 idk there's something there

@izzierosieb wait omg at the Frolique grand opening? How tf did you get in??

@lemondar93 suuuuper lucky! Matty was supposed to go but he’s sick and I was backup!

@geegeedaheed tell us everything!!!!

@julijmonroe if steddie is real I will actually lose my mind wtf

@chasityseventeen no fr because we have so little and yet I’m already INVESTED

@belloca123 NOT THERE ALREADY BEING FANART OF THEM AHAHAHAHA

@camerohno Everyone just remember that these are real people and we shouldn’t be speculating about their lives even though they’re obviously secretly married

@lemondar93 LMAO

Steve woke up the next morning with the hangover from hell. After Eddie left, he and Robin stuck around for another song or two before heading out themselves.

Steve never really liked Eddie that much in high school because he was a show-off. He loved making a scene in the cafeteria and he always acted like he was better than everyone else just because he refused to like anything that was popular. Sports, music, TV shows. They were never going to be friends, because Steve usually liked the stuff that other people liked. He used to follow the pack, so to speak, and do what the people around him expected him to do. Eddie tended to do the opposite. Eddie was abrasive and loud and obnoxious.

Back in high school, anyway. Steve knew that people had the capability to change (after all, he sure did), but after reuniting with Eddie at the bar, he was skeptical any growth or development had actually occurred in the last six years.

Eddie was still a dick, and Steve had no interest in ever seeing him again.

He pulled out his phone to see that it was still blowing up. There was a new tag trending - #steddie. Yikes. He’d also gotten even more followers. Then, another update caught his eye.

His new album had double the pre-orders it had the night before.

He’d put his heart and soul into this album, and he wanted more than anything for it to be recognized. He was popular, yeah, but mostly for a couple singles that played on the radio all the time. This album was a piece of art from top to bottom that Steve had painstakingly planned and created from scratch.

Maybe. Maybe this stupid ship with Eddie Munson could be worth something. But not enough to contact the guy. No way.

Steve opened his Instagram and then felt his heart drop.

@nancywheeler: Life hack - date a photographer so you get amazing candids on vacation 💕

It hadn’t even been that long since Nancy left Steve for Jonathan Byers. Well, maybe it had been long enough, but still. Cute couple’s posts already?

Oh, no. Steve wanted Nancy to feel like he did, and he knew what would do the trick. She was always a bit of the jealous type.

God dammit.

(Part 2!)

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#eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #writing #steve and eddie #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #i can't tune you out #modern day au

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finntheehumaneater · 4 months

Note

UH UH UH YOU'RE TAKING PROMTS!!

Can I ask for ""if you think i am going to validate your pessimistic thoughts, then you're wrong" from the "I don't deserve you" responses list? Steddie or Buckingham (I acc don't remember if you ship them, it's okay if not), whichever you like the best and feel the more inspired by :)

have a good day love 💕

hallo!! Sorry this took so long—and I do ship them!!! I like Buckingham, Rovickie, and Ronance, because I just need Robin to happy and in love with someone, and I don’t care which girl it is, haha.

anyways, I hope this was okay, because I am very tired right now and have not read it over ♥️

All of the lists for prompts are in my pinned post!

Robin was practically bouncing on her feet as she waited for Chrissy to get out of the car. Her girlfriend was in the passenger seat, now—because she said the mirror on that side was better—trying to fix the strands of hair that were purposefully falling out of her ponytail at the sides of her face.

“You didn’t have to dress up, you know,” Robin said, looking Chrissy over. Her outfit was way more put together than what she normally wore—and that was saying something. She had on a white dress with a skirt that puffed out around her waist and fell to her mid thigh. She had back heels on. They weren’t even going to a fancy restaurant, so Robin herself was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. “We’re just going to see Steve and Eddie.”

Robin felt her face flush as Chrissy turned to her and got out of the car, frowning, her arms crossed over her chest. The bracelets around her wrists jingled and clinked together. “You don’t like it?”

“No, no,” Robin rushed out, holding her hands up slightly, her face now bright red. “I-I do! I do, you look amazing. Hot. Sexy, even, I just—I was just trying to say that you don’t have to dress up just to go and meet Steve, you know? He’s not expecting you to, or…or anything, so it’s fine. But you look great, really.”

Chrissy laughed and moved some hair off of Robin’s shoulder, kissing her on the cheek. “Thanks, babe.” She paused and sighed, taking Robin’s hand and twisting one of her small silver rings around, looking away. “I just want him to think well of me, yeah? His opinion matters to you, and I…I want him to like me.”

Confusion spread over Robin’s face and she brought Chrissy’s hand to her lips, kissing it, just because she knew it would make Chrissy blush. No one could see them, anyways, with the car in the way. “He’ll like you. And if he doesn’t? Fuck him. Actually, wait, no. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Chrissy giggled again and moved her hand out of Robin’s, nodding. “I won’t.”

“Just be yourself, okay?”

Chrissy rolled her eyes at that, but there was a smile on her lips. “Okay.”

Jesus fucking Christ it was loud inside the restaurant. Chrissy hadn’t bothered to check the name of where they were, just going to the address that Robin had given her. She was tucked into the booth next to Robin, while Steve and Eddie sat on the other side.

And to be honest? She had thought this would be fun. Nerve wracking, but fun. And it wasn’t. Steve and Eddie were mostly talking amongst the two of them, Eddie laughing and not-so-discreetly holding Steve’s hand under the table. And Robin was mostly listening to them, which was weird because she was always talking.

Robin kept reaching for her hand, and Chrissy felt bad for pulling away from her each time, but she felt embarrassed to do it in public—especially in front of Steve, who kept glancing over at her and looking her over, making her want to curl into herself and disappear. Maybe that’s why Robin was being so quiet. Maybe she was upset.

She probably was.

So Chrissy kept to herself, leaning against the wall and looking out the fogged over window next to them. She really didn’t want to upset Robin, but she didn’t need Steve to think that she was too clingy or something. She just needed him to like her, and from the way he kept looking at her, it didn’t seem like he did.

Eventually Steve turned to her and leaned on his elbows on the table, looking her over again. Chrissy straightened up immediately, her eyes widening slightly as she gave him a polite smile. “Hm?”

“Didn’t say anything,” Steve said simply, looking over at Eddie, who was messing with his rings, looking kind of bored now that Steve wasn’t talking to him. Everyone here looked kind of bored. “So, Chrissy. Where did you guys meet?”

“Hm? O-oh, um, college. We’re both doing film.”

“I see,” Steve said, taking Eddie’s hand again, and Eddie smiled, giving him a quick glance before leaning back against his chair, which knocked his cane away from the table.

“Oh, shit—“ Eddie muttered, going to get it, but Steve got up instead, pushing Eddie gently back down into his chair and grabbing the cane, before sitting back down.

“You alright?” He whispered to Eddie, and Eddie nodded, patting his shoulder.

Steve turned back to Chrissy and she sighed, chewing on her bottom lip. She saw Eddie frown, and then tug Steve closer by the sleeve of his t-shirt, whispering something and motioning his head towards Robin and Chrissy. Chrissy’s face flushed, and she sank down in her seat slightly. She saw Robin glance over at her, looking away quickly, and she was about to say something, when Eddie pushed his chair back and stood up, his cane falling over as he leaned heavily on the table. “I need to piss!,” and then turned to Steve, ignoring the people who had turned around to look at them, giving him a pointed look.

Steve sighed and stood up again, grabbing Eddie’s cane and handing it to him. “I’ll, uh…go with him to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.” It was obviously a lie, but Chrissy saw Robin shrug and wave them off, looking down.

After they were out of sight, Chrissy turned to Robin and made to take her hand, but Robin tugged her hand away, sighing. “Did I do something?”

Chrissy froze, looking confused. Feeling confused. “No, honey…”

“I just—whenever I try to touch you or something, you move away, and I…I feel like I did something.” Robin muttered, and Chrissy held out her hand. It took a minute, but Robin eventually took it, kissing Chrissy’s knuckles, and Chrissy looked around. No one was looking at them. She didn’t know why it made her so nervous.

“I don’t deserve this,” She whispered, feeling her eyes gloss over. “I don’t deserve you…”

There was silence for a moment, and Chrissy looked down at her knees, biting her lip to keep the tears from falling. She didn’t need to embarrass herself anymore than she already had.

Then she felt a finger under her chin, moving her head back up, and she blinked, feeling a tear fall down her cheek. Robin’s hand moved to cup her face, and her voice was so incredibly soft when she answered, “if you think i am going to validate your pessimistic thoughts, then you're wrong.”

Chrissy sniffled, laughing quietly as Robin moved her other hand to Chrissy’s face and shook her head lightly. “You do deserve this, okay? And you deserve a lot more than I can give you. You’re perfect, okay?”

Chrissy let Robin kiss her, even though everything in her was screaming at her to pull away, because people might see. After a moment, Robin pulled away, and Chrissy sighed, eyes darting down to her lips for a moment, before she sighed again. “Steve doesn’t like me.”

“Yes he does.”

“But—“

“But, Steve is bitchy. He has resting-bitch-face. He likes you,” Robin assured her, and Chrissy laughed, going to say something else before she got cut off by Steve’s voice.

“I do not have resting-bitch-face,” he retorted, glaring at Robin as he sat back down. “You take that back.”

“I can’t because it’s true,” she pointed out, letting go of Chrissy’s face to reach over the table and poke Steve in the arm.

“Did you guys talk things over yet?” Eddie said, still a bit too-loud as he sat back down, his cane laying over his lap. Robin nodded, and he sighed with relief, slipping down in his chair a bit while he looked up at the ceiling. “Good, because I could not wait in the bathroom anymore. It was gross.”

Steve laughed, and Eddie looked over at him, grinning.

Robin hesitated, and then held out her hand for Chrissy. Chrissy looked down, glanced at Steve, and then back at Robin’s hand.

She took it.

#I was once in a restaurant with my grandma and she told me not to talk so loudly or people would hear #So as I got up to go to the bathroom I went “I AM GOING TO GO AND PISS”#and I heard someone off in the distance yell back “yas. Go piss girl!”#It was very funny but my grandma did not think so lmao #Robin Buckley #Finn writes #My fic #my writing #asks #Chrissy Cunningham #buckingham #steddie #steve harrington #Eddie Munson #Stranger things fic

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scoops-aboy86 · 1 month

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All-Inclusive

Here’s something that was also inspired by this prompt from @hotluncheddie back in January that I’ve been poking at on and off ever since. It’s 7k of no Upside Down, Steddie somewhere in their mid-twenties maybe, with brief Chrissy and Robin cameos, chubby Steve Harrington. 😜

A meet-cute: Eddie works as a masseur on an all-inclusive cruise ship, and Steve was supposed to be coming on the trip with a girlfriend (and possibly future fiancée, he has the ring packed and everything) but, well. He boards the ship alone. Which sucks, because the cruise is mostly couples and he’s all alone, filling his time swimming laps in the onboard pool and visiting the ship’s spa just to keep himself occupied.

There’s also the buffet, which clears out most days if he times it right, shows up when most of the couples go ashore for day tours and just hangs out in there for a change of scenery from his cabin or the pool, sometimes until it gets crowded again. If he overdoes it on the complimentary drinks sometimes, so what? He’s on vacation. If the drinks lead to losing track of just how many times he’s gone back to the buffet to reload his plate or how long he’s been in the dining hall, who cares? It’s not like there’s anyone with him to notice.

And anyway, he wants to lose track. He’s hungry, why bother with thinking about it when he could just eat and enjoy himself? That’s what vacations are for.

Eddie, meanwhile, is really starting to sweat every time Steve shows up on his schedule—which is most days, sometimes twice. He finds out that Steve keeps asking for him specifically, even though Steve isn’t one of the talkative ones, just sort of zones out during his massage and goes completely relaxed under Eddie’s practiced hands. So, like, it’s safe to say that Eddie is becoming pretty familiar with most of Steve’s body, and he notices the cumulative effects of the ship’s all-you-can-eat food and drink. He definitely notices the way Steve seems to be getting more sensitive by the day and sometimes it’s all Eddie can do not to react to the punched out little noises Steve makes more and more often.

At first Steve asked for Eddie because he feels more comfortable with a guy touching his body right now, and… okay, the other masseurs aren’t as pretty. But he’s on vacation, okay? And wallowing, but he’d prefer not to wallow too much. He’s known he’s bisexual pretty much forever but never had much chance to act on it beyond making out with some guys in college, no one he ever felt much of a spark with. But Eddie? After a while Steve asks for him because he thinks he does feel some sort of electricity between them, even though everything always stays strictly professional.

They’ve never even had a real conversation—until one night, when Eddie is covering the poolside bar for a friend and Steve parks himself on a stool, his swim trunks maybe a little snug but still acceptable to wear in public. When he rests his elbows on the bar and leans forward to order, he catches the way Eddie’s eyes flit down to where his arms are pressing his hairy, softening pecs together into the faintest suggestion of cleavage, then dart back up with a slight flush to his cheeks and oh, Steve likes that. Likes that when Eddie looks him in the eye after his gaze is a little darker, a little bit wilder. Likes the tattoos that are on display, the piercings he usually takes out when he works in the spa, and the hint of stubble on his face.

By the end of the night, Steve can’t even remember the name of the girl he was supposed to be on the cruise with, and it’s not just because he’s tipsy and overly full from sitting belly-up to the bar for hours, Eddie passing him appetizers he hadn’t ordered more often than the drinks he did. He is, however, becoming very familiar with the taste of Eddie’s mouth as they stumble into his cabin. The waistband of his swim trunks is rolling down under the weight of his full belly but he doesn’t even care, can’t think of anything but the way Eddie is pulling him along by a firm grip on his hips. Massaging love handles he didn’t quite have at the start of the cruise, tugging and leading him through the kiss until Eddie’s calves come up against the bed.

Eddie falls backward and pulls Steve down with him, onto him with a moan. He doesn’t even pause the kiss to catch his breath, just gets more frantic with his mouth and his hands, and Steve has never felt more manhandled or wanted in his life.

A while later, once they’re sated and cleaned up and resting, and Steve is sprawled on his back with Eddie half cuddled up half sprawled over him, practically curled up around Steve’s belly like a contented cat, Eddie asks, very quietly, if it’s alright if he stays the night.

Because Eddie has dated, but never anything that progressed from dating to in a relationship; he’d never seen the appeal of it, or met anyone he clicked with enough to try. With Steve, though… They’ve been talking for hours and never once has Eddie gotten bored, enamored with the slightly bitchy side of Steve that comes out sometimes during their banter.

And he’s never been with anyone who’s accepted food they didn’t ask for so easily. Not all of the guys he’s been with have liked the particular attention he pays to their bodies, the way he wants to worship the parts of them that are soft, but Steve has always been so responsive—even in the spa, when touches were strictly professional, making those noises that had Eddie thinking about every unsexy thing he could call to mind in order to avoid any outward signs of how much it affects him. Tonight, not only has Steve let him touch those places, he’s reveled in it. At one point he’d gone so far as to drag Eddie’s hands to his belly, plump lip caught between his teeth until Eddie grabbed and squeezed and kneaded, and his mouth fell open in a beautiful moan as he’d arched into the touch.

So Eddie asks, and Steve just smiles and runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweaty curls, and says of course, he can stay as long as he likes.

After that, they meet up almost every night in Steve’s cabin. The cruise boasts 24/7 room service, and occasionally they put that to the test… which is Steve’s idea, actually. Glancing over at Eddie one night, eyes heavy-lidded after sex, and asking, “Why’d you keep bringing me food that night, at the bar?”

Eddie pulls a lock of hair across his mouth to hide the half smile half nervous wince it’s doing against his express wishes, and deflects with a question of his own. “Why’d you keep eating it?”

Steve shrugs. “I like to eat. It’s kind of why… Well. You know how this is a two-person cabin?” It’s not something they talked about that night at the bar, but Eddie has wondered. “My ex wanted to go on a vacation, so I took time off work and booked this, but… when she found out about the all-inclusive part, she said she didn’t want to come with me if I’m just going to…”

“Eat?” Eddie guesses softly, after Steve trails off.

“Yeah.” He looks down at his belly, which is bloated as usual, and presses a hand to it. Lets his fingers press in as much as they can—not much, towards the top, but leaving soft divots that go deeper as he drags his hand down. “I’ve always liked it. And I don’t mind gaining weight from it, but I’ve always been in the minority there.”

Breath catching in his throat, Eddie drops his hair to lay his hand over Steve’s. “Right there with you, sweetheart.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth he wants to swallow them up, worried that he’s been too forward, shown just how much his stupid heart is on his sleeve way too soon in what to Steve might just be a vacation fling.

But Steve just hums and lifts his belly a little, wobbling it slowly up and down with Eddie’s hand still along for the ride. “Thought so,” he says with a shy little smile. “I like that. I really like you, Eddie. And I want… I mean, if you don’t mind…”

Every inch of Eddie is buzzing to hear where that sentence is going, his cock slowly stiffening back to attention at Steve’s hip. Thinking of that night at the bar, Steve sitting there in just his swimsuit, not even a shirt, and gradually but steadily putting away everything he was given.

“I’m hungry,” Steve finishes, cheeks flushed and eyelids drooping a little further, because he can feel exactly how interested Eddie is and feels an answering stir between his own legs.

So, room service. While they’re waiting, Steve shows Eddie the contents of his suitcase—a range of incrementally increasing sizes because he’d guessed, he’d known, he’d planned. Plus some things that had already been a little tight on him when he’d boarded.

Steve accepts the delivery in sweatpants and a button-down shirt that strains at the buttons, showing tanned skin and chest hair through the gaps. Faint, clothing-imposed rolls on his front to match the ones starting to form more naturally on his sides and back.

Eddie stands behind the door when the food arrives (because he’s not technically supposed to fraternize with the passengers, as a member of the crew), watching. He can’t see which waiter it is. Despite the all-you-can-eat nature of the cruise, they don’t actually get a lot of this, and he can imagine several of his fellow crew members having truly amusing reactions… and a couple who would, silently but effectively, be absolute dicks. But Steve just seems pleased to get the food, nudging the door closed with his foot and presenting Eddie with the large, silver-domed tray because—and Eddie is still inwardly reeling from this in the best goddamn way—he wants Eddie to hand-feed him.

This cruise job was just supposed to be a way to kill his summer, build up his resume, and avoid apartment hunting. You know, after his latest Craigslist roommate situation went sour from his weird sleeping patterns, poor memory for doing his half of the chores, and habit of learning songs on his guitar by ear, the same track set on repeat for hours at a time. His life is kind of a perpetual disaster. And now Eddie finds himself sitting on the plush lap of one of the hottest guys that’s ever so much as looked in his direction. Steve isn’t even watching the food in his hand, he’s watching Eddie, trusting him to get the next bite to his lips. It’s heady and sweet, that confidence in him even though they’re still practically strangers.

When Steve is full, he guides one of Eddie’s hands to his packed belly and presses needily into the touch. But there’s still food left, and it feels so freeing to moan “Keep going, keep, keep feeding me Eddie…”

No one has ever seen this much of him before, both physically (as the stretch marks can attest to) and intimately. Steve knows they don’t really know each other yet, but he wants to. There’s potential here, he feels it in every gentle brush of Eddie’s thumb against his bottom lip, a tiny encouragement while Steve struggles to chew and laboriously swallow. Every bite lands heavily in his overtaxed stomach, and when he looks down at himself he’s bigger than he’s ever been and framed by tattooed legs and he feels so warm and full and everything is perfect.

Eddie doesn’t usually have much after regular business hours, but on Tuesday nights he meets up with some of his friends amongst the staff for a dnd session. Chrissy, the bartender friend he covered for, comes to observe the game whenever her girlfriend (one of the waiters, who could talk the ears off a rock if given half a chance) is still on duty. She usually stays to help him clean up after, and she’s been good-naturedly teasing him about where he keeps disappearing to at night for a while by the time he breaks and tells her about Steve.

She studies him for a moment, then says that he seems happier. “And I’m glad, Eddie. You’re a good guy, you deserve this.” Pausing, she purses her lips. “Just be careful, okay? I really hope your Steve is one of the good ones, he seems like a sweetheart. But I’ve been on both sides of the deck and sometimes passengers can be way too good at getting what they want and just… going home. That said, if you need a plan for what to do if your supervisor finds out, Robin and I have your back.”

“Oh? Seduce you over to the working class side, did she?” Eddie jokes, because Chrissy is the quintessential cheerleader type and he knows that she grew up with money, though she’s estranged from her family these days.

Chrissy smirks. “Actually, it was the other way around. We got caught in… let’s call it a compromising situation, and right there on the spot she came up with the most elaborate lie about how we’d been long distance pen pals for years, fell in love, and only just had a chance to get together. She started rambling about how much she loved me, the details were just—That’s when I knew.”

And Eddie is well aware that he and Steve aren’t there yet. They’ve only been hooking up for a couple weeks now, and yeah Eddie has sleeping over privileges (and has to be very sneaky leaving in the morning so no one sees him but he still reports to work at the spa on time), but love? They’re not in love.

… Okay, he might be, but he has no idea about Steve.

The next night, Steve is halfway through a snack Eddie is feeding him when he says, casually, “I used to be a jock in high school, y’know.”

Eddie perks up, because Steve had maybe made some vague references before, but… “Really?” he asks, taking the pause in feeding as an excuse to look the man before him up and down. Reaching down pat and rub his bottomless pit of a stomach. “Kept up with it, I see.”

Steve hums and puts his hand over Eddie’s to encourage the groping. “With swimming, a bit. I used to be the swim team captain and basketball co-captain.”

“Really,” Eddie says, not skeptical so much as already daydreaming about Steve running around in sinfully tiny shorts. “And what would your teammates say if they saw you know?”

“They wouldn’t want to be seen in public with me,” Steve says with a laugh. “I mean, look at me.”

Eddie blinks the fantasy away and does look—at something just as good or better. Steve is back in the outfit he’d worn the first time he’d set foot in the spa. The shirt has become skin-tight, polo buttons undone to allow for Steve’s thicker neck. Arms bulging out of the sleeves. Belly pushing up and hanging out the bottom enough to reveal his navel, bulging out over tight jeans that couldn’t even button, that couldn’t even go up all the way around his thighs and ass. Spilling out because he’d been stuffed near to capacity before even putting it on, but still eating, always eating, given wholly over to a vacation daze of never letting his mouth go empty for long.

“I mean,” Steve continues, “would you?” It sounds flippant, far too casual for Eddie to really feel like it’s not secretly a serious question.

“In a heartbeat,” Eddie replies immediately, and if that isn’t wearing his heart on his sleeve… But Steve had asked, and if the shy but bright smile on his face is anything to go by that was the right answer, so what the hell. “I mean, what, you expect that to bother me? It would, but in a really good way.”

He leans down, not to kiss Steve but to mouth at the shallow hollow of his throat, nuzzling down to the chest hair peeking out through the strained v of his polo.

“I’d do exactly this on one of the deck chairs outside for everyone to see, if it wouldn’t get me fired on the spot.” He slings a leg over Steve’s and scooches down to snuggle further into his soft chest. “Partly because it’d get indecent real fast,” he adds while shoving a hand into Steve’s pants, into a painted-on pair of boxers. Peeling down the put-upon elastic band so he can easily take him in hand and give a squeeze. Steve gasps above him, his own fingers curling into Eddie’s hair like they belong there, and Eddie scooches further and presses a wet kiss just above his navel because they do, they do.

And while Steve is distracted, he reaches for the nearby plate of cheesy appetizers and lifts it towards him in offering. It balances easily atop his belly, which means Eddie can’t glance up and see his face, but that was bound to be eclipsed anyway considering what he has in mind next.

“Enjoy it, sweetheart,” Eddie tells him in a rough voice, then dives in to wrap his lips around the head of Steve’s cock. He closes his eyes as a tremor jolts through Steve’s entire body, overfilled tummy sloshing and bumping against his forehead, but just keeps working his way down with a muffled moan.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve gasps, one hand still in his hair. From the sound of it, the other is pushing food into his mouth. “‘S so—Ohfuck, makes everything taste so, mmm, so much better—Love it when you suck me off, feels like all the flavors are brighter, and I’m eating it all for you. Gon—gonna come down your throat, feed it back to you, mmmm—Make you, make it drip b-back out, so full. Eddie, god, I’m so…”

Eddie is drooling, swirling his tongue and twisting his fist the more the wetness gathered, savoring the sweet taste of Steve’s precome. He dips low and swallows around him, eyes streaming from a slight gag, but his cock is diamond hard in his own clothes. The combination of Steve’s stream of consciousness babble (increasingly just a good-muffled litany of Eddie’s name as he loses himself to the dual onslaught of sensations) and the softness of him, the press and warmth all around, is driving Eddie wild. He feels like he’s being consumed even as he bobs on Steve’s dick, eyes rolling back in his skull a split second before his throat is flooded with come and Steve’s hiccuping cry is muffled by nothing, because he’s already plowed through it all.

He wonders when the last time Steve got off without food involved.

He wonders if Steve could eat himself out of this outfit entirely, snap through it like rags and moan in sensual relief as the pinch of it all disappears.

He comes in his pants. Eddie is so behind on laundry but this is all he ever wants to do anymore.

Steve still comes into the spa at least once a day, still asks for Eddie every time. Every time he shows up, he seems to be fresh from the buffet. If it’s twice a day, Eddie can see a noticeable difference since the first visit; after a few days, Steve begins to sheepishly admit that he can’t comfortably lay stomach-down on the massage table. “Overdid it again,” he’ll say, running a hand over his belly where it juts out and pulls his shirt taut, tracing seemingly idly over red stretch marks where doughy skin peeks out the bottom but always meeting Eddie’s gaze directly when Eddie looks up from following the motion. He has shirts that would fit him still; he just chooses not to put them on until they nearly don’t.

There are whispers now, whenever Steve comes to the spa—gossiping about how he's blowing up, sometimes spilling out of his clothes in public, increasingly more often than not arriving with food still in hand. Today he shows up with a messenger bag slung over one shoulder, so pleased with himself that he’s all but bouncing on the balls of his feet; it’s full of leftovers from the buffet. Instead of a massage he asks Eddie to feed him, even though he’s already stuffed, and it’s a miracle that Eddie doesn’t come in his work uniform slacks. (He comes in Steve’s greedy mouth, instead.)

“That was so fucking hot,” Eddie tells him later that night in Steve’s cabin, popping one of the profiteroles he’d brought as a preemptive apology for the next thing he’s about to say into Steve’s mouth, “but we can’t do that again. If anyone catches us like that while I’m on duty, I will absolutely be fired and dropped off at the nearest port… No, hey—don’t pout, sweetheart, it’s just that I’ll be damned if I’m made to walk the plank before I’ve even gotten your phone number.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up, his mouth falls into a breathless oh with pastry cream in the corners, and he immediately starts patting around to get his phone out of his pocket. He’s not actually wearing pants, but it’s the thought that counts.

And it really does. They hadn’t exchanged phone numbers because they don’t need to on the ship, where they’re generally never more than a few hundred feet apart at any given time and can usually find each other within three guesses of where to look. Steve’s eagerness to exchange numbers now makes Eddie downright giddy; his eyes might even be a little damp as he places another profiterole in that perfect, sweet little oh.

They don’t actually get around to exchanging numbers that night; Steve falls asleep to his belly as tight as a drum and Eddie gently wiping traces of dessert from around his mouth with a warm washcloth. He wakes up in the morning to the sheets next to him still warm and Eddie’s phone number scrawled on a scrap of paper left on the pillow.

Yawning, he finds his phone, adds the number, and sends a first text so that Eddie will have his too. Then he dozes off again, still digesting.

When he wakes again, it’s past noon. His belly grumbles; it’s angry at him for sleeping through the breakfast buffet, even though he’s not exactly empty… but he’s not full anymore, either, and that just feels wrong now. He wishes petulantly that Eddie didn’t have to go, that he could stay and feed Steve all day, rub his belly and tell him how big he’s getting, how insatiable he is, how impossibly hungry. In the absence of food to push into his mouth Steve reaches between his legs, stroking himself as he locates his phone, tapping briefly at it with his free hand and setting it to one side before calling for more room service on the cabin phone—because the buffet doesn’t have pancakes and waffles out anymore, but he can still get them if he asks.

Throughout the call he keeps stoking, trapping the handset between his shoulder and softening cheek so his other hand can paw at himself, hefting and jiggling and squeezing and kneading, struggling to keep his voice even as he lists out everything he wants. When that’s done, he grabs his cell phone again and considers ending the video he’d been taking… but he’s so close. So close just from thinking about how much he’s had and how much more he still wants, how quickly he’s gone from normal-looking guy to fat, how big he’s eaten himself and still isn’t satisfied, doesn’t want to ever stop, and all he wants is—

“Eddie!”

Coming hard and out of breath, winded just from laying back and pleasuring himself, Steve ends the video. He’s still a quivering mess when he opens his texts to see Eddie’s responses wishing him a good morning, telling him how he almost hadn’t been able to leave for wanting to wake Steve up with his mouth. He’s a grinning quivering mess as he sends the video in response, along with the message, “Since you didn’t, I had to settle for waking up like this. Wish you were here.”

And doesn’t think until a few moments of no reply yet later that… maybe that was a little too forward for what they have.

Is it too soon? They’ve got to be more than just screwing by now, with Eddie sleeping in Steve’s bed more often than his own and exchanging numbers and how much they share about their own lives in between stuffings and fucking. But… even if they are more, it could still be too soon, right?

All his life, people have been telling Steve that he falls too fast, too willingly—because he’s a romantic at heart, and he doesn’t understand why that would be a bad thing. Except that it keeps costing him things, like his parents’ affection and now an entire almost-fiancée, and. What if it costs him Eddie too?

But he shouldn’t have worried. By the time he’s partway through an expansive breakfast, Eddie has sent a series of overheated-looking emojis, “Look what you make of me, sweetheart,” and a selfie in what Steve easily recognizes as the bathrooms in the ship’s spa. His uniform pants are down around his knees and his shirt held out of the way in his mouth, barely visible at the top of the frame, evidence of his orgasm dripping down his sleek, tattooed chest and over the hand still wrapped around his spent cock.

Steve knows how Eddie’s schedule works, and the timestamp on the messages isn’t on the hour—Eddie either had a break in clients or had excused himself in the middle of a massage just to see what Steve had sent. And then liked it so much that he had to stop and touch himself right then and there.

The very thought is enough to make Steve feel warm all over, and he finishes breakfast panting with his non-eating hand wrapped once more around his own cock, jiggling his way to a second (and eventually a third) round of coming his brains out thinking about this man.

“So,” Eddie says one night once they’re cuddled up and both spent, Steve too crammed full from stuffing himself in his room all day. Too sated to move except where Eddie’s hands strokes absentmindedly over the expanse of his stretch-marked skin—on his belly, sides, thighs, even his arms now. “What happens after the cruise? What’s next for lil Stevie?”

Steve blushes at the nickname, pleased in a way that mixes sweetly with tongue-in-cheek embarrassment in his gut, but isn’t sure how to answer. Is Eddie asking about… him? Them? Some unknown third thing?

“Well… I guess I have to go back to Indiana,” he answers hesitantly. “Um. Back to working at my dad’s company, which sucks. I’ll probably need to order a new desk chair, heh.” A brief pause, as Eddie rubs over his full stomach and massages a burp loose. “I’ll… probably have to slow down a bit. On this. Which really sucks, because I’m going to have to get used to being hungry sometimes again.”

Eddie pats his belly, seemingly entranced by the ripples sent out by even that gentle impact. “Yeah… Vacation eating doesn’t quite work in real life, does it?”

And the words are sympathetic, but there’s something sad behind them too, something resigned. Steve doesn’t think he’s messed up yet, but he’s pretty sure that he might if he doesn’t get the next few minutes right. He tries to rock a little, wanting to roll to face Eddie, but finds with another, wetter burp that he can’t; he puts a hand over the other man’s instead. “What about you? Are you… shipping out again, or heading home?”

“Home,” Eddie murmurs, not looking up from their hands. He bites his lip, then adds, “Between things. Honestly, this was meant to be a temporary gig anyway. I’ve been saving up to move somewhere less in the middle of fucking nowhere, you know? Somewhere with better job opportunities. I just… have to have enough for my own place.”

Eddie has told him before that he also has his home base in Indiana, some small town Steve would probably struggle to find on a map, with the uncle who basically raised him. His refuge in between attempts to strike out on his own, failing again and again because no one who isn’t family seems to want to live with him for long. Which is insane to Steve, because Eddie is so caring and sweet, who wouldn’t want to be constantly in his orbit?

True, he’s never seen the guy in his natural element because they’re always in his cabin, crew quarters being off-limits to passengers, but surely he couldn’t be that difficult a roommate. Sometimes Steve thinks wistfully of what it might be like to come home from a long day and fall straight into Eddie’s open arms, aware that he’s halfway in love—and that the ’halfway’ part is a lie to protect his own heart, just in case.

Steve bites back on what he wants to do (blurt out ‘Move in with me’ like a moron; he’d learned his lesson about that the hard way, ages ago) and asks, “Does, uh. Does ‘somewhere’ include Indianapolis?”

“It might,” Eddie replies just as carefully. “It could.”

“Do you ever… come up to visit? To look at apartments or do interviews or anything?”

Brown eyes flick up to meet his briefly, then back down. “I could. I mean, I haven’t much because it’s a long drive for a day trip, and unless I sleep in my van, staying overnight can get… Uh, and I don’t know anyone I could couch surf with up there.”

Taking a chance, Steve shifts his hand and twines their fingers together just a bit. “You know me. And I have a bed—I mean, a guest bed. A whole guest room, even. And a couch too, but you could have your pick.”

He spots the start of a grin while he’s still rambling and thinks with a wave of relief that he’s gotten it right after all.

It takes some figuring out, and help from a waiter that Steve has been exchanging sarcastic jokes and gossip about some of the other passengers with since pretty much day one of the cruise, but Steve finally gets to see Eddie’s room on the ship about a week before the cruise ends, on Eddie’s day off.

“Sweetheart, meet my sweetheart,” Eddie says, magnanimously letting Steve touch his acoustic guitar. “Not to be confused with my electric sweetheart, who decided to wait this one out safely on dry land.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, and doesn’t take it at all personally that Eddie lets him touch the instrument but not hold it. He’s not totally sure how to hold a guitar and wouldn’t want to drop such an obviously prized possession. “Do they have names, too?”

“The only two ladies I could ever be in a relationship with are nameless,” Eddie replies solemnly. “You’ll have to share me with them, I’m afraid.”

And then he abruptly goes red, maybe because neither of them has mentioned the R word yet and he just went and implied it like it’s a given that’s where they’re headed, and Steve can’t help himself. He leans into Eddie, crowding him against the wall—not a long way to go here, in any direction—and kisses him hungrily. (He’s always hungry; for food, for Eddie, all the time now.)

“I think I can handle that,” he tells a dazed looking Eddie before going back to examining the room. Again, doesn’t take that much time, but for such a small, blank space Eddie seems to have breathed so much life into it. Posters and polaroids taped up all over the walls, the pictures mostly behind the scenes shots on the ship. People he’s seen around and people he hasn’t. Eddie must know the waiter, Robin, too, because she appears in a number of them standing arm in arm with a more petite blonde girl who crops up in a lot of the photos. In one, she’s very clearly giving Eddie a wedgie.

“That’s Chrissy. And, uh, there’s almost a reason for that one that doesn’t make us sound like feuding second-graders,” Eddie says, following his gaze and still flushed from the kiss. Or maybe from being pushed around a little? “She was my in for getting this job. Known her for years, she’s kind of my other half… in a completely platonic way, of course.”

Steve snorts. “Well that’s good, I’d hate to be sleeping with a guy who’d date someone he let hook his underwear over his head.”

Smirking, Eddie gives him a little shove—doesn’t move Steve at all, the hand just sinks into him with little effect. “First off, she’d need a ladder for an atomic wedgie, calm down. Second, she’s so not my type.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve looks Eddie up and down, then down at himself in feigned surprise. He smooths down the front of his cheerful yellow shirt then drags his hands back up, easing his belly out from where he’d tucked it into his shorts and the hem of said polo up too. Right on cue, Eddie’s eyes drop down to watch. “I never would have guessed.” He gives himself a little jiggle. “Remind me what your type is again, baby?”

Baby. Baby. Eddie has no idea what his face does in response to that because most of his blood is roaring straight to his dick, and he’s forgotten to worry about the fact that one look under the bed would bring Steve eye to eye with several days worth of dirty laundry. Forgotten that he was nervous about sharing his private space with Steve, with all the messy edges and nerdy interests showing. But if anything, Steve seems to enjoy the mess—looking at his pictures with interest (zero recognition of any of his metal band posters or niche horror movie favorites, but Eddie can work with that), and still flirting with him.

“You,” Eddie breathes, then falls backward onto his tiny single-occupant bed and pulls Steve down with him, onto him with a moan. Kissing him so hard and frantic and completely uncoordinated.

Steve nips at his lip, causing Eddie to groan and break the kiss. He lifts up on his elbows and knees, and they both have a moment when they realize that his belly hangs down far enough to just brush against where Eddie’s cock strains against his fly, soft against hard. Then Steve smirks and leans back down onto him with intent. “Was this your plan, Eddie? Get me alone in your room and have your way with me?”

“I mean,” Eddie replies breathlessly, straining upwards trying to get another kiss. “It wasn’t not the plan.”

“Smooth,” Steve chuckles, and grants him a quick peck. “Didn’t plan it very well though, I don’t see anything here I can eat.” His eyebrows tilt and his bottom lip curves out in a pout that Eddie wants to bite. “What am I supposed to put in my mouth if I get hungry, huh?” He grinds down just right to make Eddie’s eyes roll back in his head. “Oh, wait. I guess there is one thing I can think of…”

Later, after Steve has sucked Eddie’s soul out of his dick and come into his own fist about it, then licked his hand clean with the fastidiousness of a cat who got the cream, and they’ve worked out that they can both fit on the bed if Steve lays on his back and Eddie lays half on top of him, half leaned against the wall…

After all that, Steve asks about the guitars. Ha asks about the band Eddie had in high school that practiced in a friend’s garage and played once a week at the local shitty dive bar, and about one of the dirty t-shirts under the bed (which, yes, he did notice) that matches one of the posters on the wall.

Eddie is pretty sure that he answers everything with stars in his eyes. He jokes that yeah, the posters do come with him wherever he travels, and melts when Steve asks if he’ll bring them when he visits him in Indianapolis. “You mean you really meant that? About me staying with you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve replies, smiling. “I really like you, Eddie. I don’t want this to just be some vacation fling.”

“Me neither.” Eddie’s arm tightens around him in a brief squeeze. It sets off a grumble in Steve’s empty, impatient stomach that makes them both giggle. “Ready to sneak back out again, big boy? I can text Robin to whip us up another distraction, and to have a snack sent to your cabin.”

Steve stretches under him, warm and pliant like the world’s snuggliest teddy bear. “Mmm, yeah. Make it a big one, that was a lot of exercise just now. I had to do a lot of the work, you know.”

“Well that won’t do,” Eddie teases, giving him a kiss before rolling off to find his pants, and in them his phone. “I’d better make sure my little ex-jock don’t have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, huh?”

When Steve sits up, Eddie has a perfect view of the way his side rolls and belly stack up atop one ever-thickening thigh. The luscious fruit of night after night of heady indulgences, day after day of Steve marathon-stuffing himself at the buffets, insatiable. So perfect that Eddie wants to swoop in on him again, but he knows it will be even better if he can slide more treats past Steve’s plump lips, spoil him and feel his stomach swell and round out while sweet whines and whispers of please, more slip out around mouthfuls, more, please baby I need it, fill me up, never felt so good before, doesn’t feel as good if it’s not you feeding me, baby—

Eddie has to check himself that he’s not drooling. Even though the cruise is almost over he still gets to keep Steve; this is the best day of his entire goddamn life.

The last night before the cruise ends, Eddie lets himself into Steve’s cabin to find the man in question naked beneath a robe that no longer fully closes over his gut. He’d woken up early along with Eddie (who had to get to work) to start on one last lazy breakfast in bed and is still eating now, never having dressed and never having stopped. So full there are angry lines spidering over his belly and hips and he’s moaning between bites, during bites, pawing desperately at himself with one hand in a pitiful attempt to ease the ache even as his other hand still brings food to his mouth. Room service trays are scattered everywhere, scraped clean before discarded for the next, and the next, and the next.

He sees Eddie and whines wordlessly, spreading his legs wider so his belly drops between meaty thighs and almost kisses the mattress. Eddie has been watching it get closer all goddamn afternoon in the pictures and videos Steve keeps sending. The last text is bouncing around in his head like a screensaver: Baby i need you i need more.

Baby. It still gets him every goddamn time.

Eddie opens the to-go box of cake he’s brought right there on the bed, fingers in Steve’s soft hair as he croons for him to sit up, just a little bit further, come on, sweetheart, I brought what you need. Watches until Steve, on his hands and knees, starts twitching his hips and moaning face-first into his post-dessert dessert before Eddie fingers and then fucks frantically into him while he finishes the rest. Comes hard and deep inside Steve, who’s almost sobbing don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop and yes yes YES as Eddie slides a plug into his greedy, messy hole to keep him full there.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Eddie pants as he helps Steve collapse safely to one side. “Back when you booked the tickets? Just wanted to eat and eat and no one ever tell you no, hmm sweetheart? Keep you full the entire trip. Make you so much bigger by the end of it.”

Steve groans, almost slurs the words, “Fuck, don’ make me horny again, Eds… Ate s-so much, I could pop.”

Eddie shushes him, laying a finger across Steve’s sticky lips and only a little surprised when Steve responds by immediately opening them, licking and drawing it into his mouth like it might be candy. Like he doesn’t know how to respond any other way. Sucks on it instinctively and jesus fucking christ if that doesn’t make Eddie’s cock twitch again. The things this perfect man has been doing to his libido for the entire cruise is downright diabolical, it’s so amazing. He hasn’t been this on the cusp ready to go again so fast since he was a goddamn teenager.

So he massages Steve’s swollen, churning tummy and coos over every freckle and stretch mark, every curve and bulge the way he’d wanted to from the moment he’d noticed them beginning to form. Gleefully and deliriously egging Steve on until his dick is hard against the soft underside of his belly, ready for the next round of their last hurrah.

On the ship, anyway.

Eddie already has Steve’s address saved in his phone.

Plans saved in his calendar app to drive up and start job hunting in a mere two weeks, the longest either of them could stand to imagine being apart.

Dreams of moving there, living with Steve and having this every goddamn day. Steve has already told him he can stay as long as he wants, so they’ll see. Chrissy and Robin might swing down from Chicago and they’ll go on double dates, Steve happy to polish off any leftovers that the girls don’t want to bring back to their hotel room when they’re out on the town.

Would he have leaned so hard into it without Eddie to eat for, to seduce and impress and tip over the edge of infatuation to utter, love-soaked devotion? Maybe. But that would have been eating to fill a void in his life, in his heart. This, what they do together, the way Steve consumes and Eddie helps him push past his limits and break through to that blissful state of truly full, is beautiful. A connection that neither of them has felt before, not in any of Eddie’s casual affairs or Steve’s serial relationships. Something new and promising and bright… and big.

What started as a straightforward all-inclusive cruise might just have led to the best thing to happen to either of them in their entire lives, and Eddie can’t wait to see just how big Steve decides to get.

#wg steddie #cruise wg au #chubby steve harrington #feedee steve harrington #feeder eddie munson #no upside down au #scoops words

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schrijverr · 7 months

Text

I Found Myself a Cheerleader 20

Chapter 20 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

In this chapter, seeing Chrissy attacked has them all on edge, which isn’t helped when they return to the cabin and find it completely ransacked. Eddie missing from the scene. The search for him only sets them on the path to more danger.

On AO3.

Ships: steddie & buckingham

Warnings: general season 4 shenanigans, child abuse mention, hate-crime, homophobia, f-slur, bullying mention

~~~~

Chapter 20: The Escape

Steve screams Chrissy’s name loudly and shakes her, despite the fact he knows it won’t do anything to save her.

Behind him, the others get there and see what has happened. Max is rushing forward, already pulling off her own headphones to give to Chrissy, but she is stopped by Lucas, who yells: “Are you insane? Vecna is looking for a target right now.”

“Do you expect me to let her die for me?” Max screams back, an again going unspoken. “She needs music.”

A part of Steve wishes Lucas hadn’t stopped Max, but he knows that wouldn’t have solved anything. Right now Chrissy needs music and Steve knows how to get it. He quickly scoops Chrissy up, hating how light she feels as he yells: “Get out of the fucking way!”

The party scrambles to let him pass as he carries Chrissy down the stairs, relieved she isn’t floating yet. Robin is at his side, Nancy at his back. Nancy asks: “Where are you going?”

“She needs music, I’m bringing her to music,” Steve replies.

“You’ll never make it to the car,” Nancy argues. “It’s too far.”

“We don’t have to make it to the car,” Steve tells her.

“The piano,” Robin exclaims, picking up on what Steve is saying as they hustle down the stairs to the now abandoned piano where once a happy family sang.

Right as he crosses the threshold, Chrissy floats out of his arms, hanging there in that horrid, ominous way. She always loved flying, but not like this. Steve wants to pull her back to earth, but knows music is more important to get right now.

So he lets Robin tug helplessly on Chrissy’s shoe as he takes place at the piano. Steve is the only one who gets to make Chrissy fly, not this Venca creep, and he is the one that knows how to get her down safely. Always there to catch her.

It’s been almost half a year since Hopper’s funeral, when they broke into his house to steal a suit to wear. However, the song still comes to him, having been burned into his memory. He thanks god for the strict French nurse, who had taught him.

Everything around him disappears as he starts to play. Hands gliding over the keys as the notes of We’ll Meet Again float through the air. The piano is a little out of tune, but it adds to the charm, well, Steve hopes so at least.

He doesn’t know all the words, but he knows the chorus, so he sings: “We’ll meet again. Don’t know where. Don’t know when. But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day.”

After that Robin takes over. She’s a decent singer and Steve wonders when she learned this song or if she has always known it. However, as long as she keeps singing Steve doesn’t care. The two of them keep on creating the music, hoping that Chrissy will come back to them, instead of leaving them behind.

The room is filled with the haunting piano and Robin’s surprisingly nice voice.

It seems to take a life time.

It only takes a minute.

Steve thinks it will never end.

The moment never really begins.

Then Chrissy is collapsing down to the ground, limp for a second, but seemingly still breathing. Of course Steve gets up immediately to check on her, right behind Robin. However, he is pushed back to the piano by Max, who demands: “Keep playing! He’s still here.”

Naturally, Steve plops back down on the bench without question as he starts up the notes again. It is harder this time, because he keeps trying to look back to where Chrissy is gasping, trying to come down from her encounter with Vecna.

He hears Robin ramble in that concerned comforting way of her and when he glances back Max is next to Chrissy too. The only one, who can know what she might have gone through.

Dustin, however, has disappeared outside with Lucas, but soon returns with a recording device, so they can tape Steve’s playing. It has proven effective, so it’s their best shot for Chrissy. Especially since the other tape is broken. Robin singing again just in case that’s important.

Once they get the tape, they put it in the backup walkman Steve brought and by god is he relieved as they hand it to Chrissy, meaning Steve can leave his bench.

Steve doesn’t waste a second, sliding out of the piano bench and running to where Chrissy is clinging to Robin. Though she lets go in favor of falling into Steve’s arms when he drops to the floor next to her.

“Oh god, Stevie, she- she was there,” Chrissy sobs and Steve holds her closer, knowing she is talking about her mother.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he assures her, as he strokes her hair, not wanting to give too much of her private details away to the party around them. “She’s not there. You’re not with her. You here with me and Robs and the others. You’re safe. You’re alive. I got you. I always got you.” He kisses the top of her head.

Chrissy cries a little more, hiding into Steve’s chest as Robin rubs her back, obviously unsure about what else to do.

When they have all come down from the crazy experience, they go to the Wheeler house. All of them collapse on the couches, not having been spotted by Karen or Ted. The exhaustion after the adrenaline drops makes that all of them forget about anything but sleep.

The next morning, they go by the grocery store. They’re all stuffed into Nancy’s car, probably looking a little insane as they pick a six-pack and some snacks and stuff to make dinner. If they need to hide Eddie for a little longer, Steve can cook for him. A good home cooked meal can do wonders for the soul.

But as they get to the cabin, Nancy gasps and hits the break in a way that tosses them all around in the car.

Steve is about to make a comment to her about safe driving, when he notices what made her react like that. The door to the cabin is open, the glass broken and on the walls is smeared in red spray paint the word FAG next to it is MURDERER.

His blood runs cold as he stumbles out of the car, aware of the kids behind him, who now see what has been done to his cabin. There has always been the sense that the cabin still belongs to Hopper in a way, his presence felt in location, security measures and room. However, looking at it now, Steve has never felt more like he owns it.

His cabin is his home. His safe space. He loves living there, finally having a place of his own that he can exist in without judgment or prying eyes, only letting in those that he wants there. And now that has been violated.

In his horror, he hasn’t even realized what that could mean for Eddie, who had been hidden there, until Dustin is running past him, calling out: “Eddie? Eddie!”

Without thinking, he snaps his arm up and grabs the back of Dustin’s sweater. Dustin looks back, frowning and looking offended as he exclaims: “What the hell, dude! Eddie might be in there. We need to find him.”

“I know,” Steve replies. “But maybe there is someone else in there too.”

That gets everyone’s attention as they look from Steve to the cabin, its open door now looking like a gaping maw instead of a welcoming entrance beckoning.

So far no one has commented on what is painted on the cabin, but Steve feels the words’ judgment as he takes the lead. When there is danger, Steve knows what to do. When they might get hurt, Steve is in the front.

Inside, the whole cabin is overturned. His couches are shoved to the side and blankets are strewn around. In the kitchen all the cabinets are open. Looking into the bathroom, he sees the shower curtains have been pulled down.

The doors to his own room and Hopper’s room are cracked open. His own room is better for hiding, so he pushes the one open first. His heart beats in his chest and he hates that he does not have a weapon as he waits for someone to jump him. The door creaking slightly.

Empty.

His closet is open, clothes tossed around. His bed is a mess and the window is open. But the room is abandoned, no one is there.

Hopper’s room has met the same fate and Steve curses whoever has done this. How dare they invade Hopper’s place. El’s last memory of her dad. Her one wish for this cabin in which she found kindness and love. He vows to clean up everything to how it had been when all this is behind them, so El can still come home properly.

“It’s abandoned,” he calls out. The words a relief as well as a mystery, a terrible mystery. The cabin might not have a threat, but Eddie has disappeared to and none of them know where he might be and what might have happened to him.

“Where is Eddie?” Dustin asks, sounding scared. Steve immediately hates how he sounds. Hates how he doesn’t have an answer. Hates how he is focusing on keeping himself from panicking so he can’t focus on finding an answer.

“I can’t see his clothes anywhere,” Nancy says. “Maybe he took them and ran.”

“Why would they even come here?” Robin asks.

“Who came here?”

“The basketball team,” Lucas speak up and they all look at him. He explains: “It must have been them. They’re on a war path. They think Eddie killed one of their own. They want his blood.”

“But Eddie didn’t do it,” Dustin points out.

“Well they don’t know that, do they?” Lucas snaps. “All they know Patrick died in his trailer with only him there. They hate his guts, Dustin. Just like they hate yours and now mine and Steve’s and everyone who has ever dared to not be cool and popular.”

It’s quiet, Dustin looks as if he’s been slapped in the face, staring at Lucas as they both breathe heavily.

Lucas then looks away and says: “And I wanted to be part of them, just so I wouldn’t be hated by them. They’re hunting us right now. I’m- I’m sorry, I should have listen to you and Mike. I was just so tired of the bullying.”

Steve readies himself to step in if Dustin makes a wrong move. He knows how Lucas has been struggling and he doesn’t want Dustin to ruin this. But he is pleasantly surprised when Dustin replies: “Hey, I get it. If I had more hand eye coordination I might try your method too.”

That gets a huffed laugh out of Lucas and he holds out his hand that Dustin shakes, before pulling Lucas into a hug.

Right when they let go, the radio that has been left by the party so Eddie could contact them, which has now been abandoned on the table, crackles to life. Eddie’s voice says: “Dustin, can you hear me? Stevie? Wheeler?”

Dustin fumbles for the radio, clicking it on with a breathless: “Eddie! Holy shit. Are you okay? Over.”

“Nah, man. Pretty- Pretty goddamn far from okay,” Eddie replies. He sounds rough, shaken up, but not hurt. Steve hates that he is relieved by the emotional devoid tone, because it at least means that Eddie is safe.

“Where is he?” Nancy asks.

“Where are you? Over,” Dustin repeats.

“Skull Rock,” Eddie answers. “Do you know it?”

They do know where that is, so they tell Eddie they’re coming. Steve slips on a comforting sweater, needing something soothing right now. He also grabs his nail bat from under his bed. Something made Eddie flee, it cannot be good and he wants his bat with him.

The walk is silent at the start. Steve keeps thinking back of his cabin, on how they knew to look there, knew to target him. That the kids saw what had been spray painted on the front.

Robin must feel his gloomy mood, because she slides up next to him and takes his hand. She squeezes it and he squeezes back. A gesture of silent support. She knows what is going through his head, she gets his fear and she is here for him every step of the way.

Chrissy also catches up with them, bumping her shoulder against his as she takes off one of the headphones. She quietly asks: “Are you okay?”

He looks at her, concerned eyes looking back. Chrissy has always been too kind for her own good honestly. So caring. He smiles at her and says: “I will be. This isn’t the worst that happened this week.”

“I know, but you can still be upset,” Chrissy tells him.

Steve hadn’t fully considered that. Sure, he is upset, but they have to move on. The town is getting worse and Vecna is still on the loose. They have to stop him and clear Eddie’s name without anyone getting hurt, so they don’t have time for Steve to mope. Chrissy makes it sound easy though, like of course he is allowed to be upset.

“Thanks,” he nods. Then is quiet for a beat, before he says: “I just don’t get why they always have to come back when I think I’ve gotten rid of them. I haven’t even done anything.”

“Well, you did house Eddie, you know. I think they don’t care about anything else you might have done,” Robin pipes up, then winces. “Bad comment.”

“It’s okay, Robs,” Steve laughs. He doesn’t mind her off the cuff comments. They can be quite funny and are a quirk of her. He doesn’t get annoyed, he only snaps if he feels under stress or hurt and she often knows when not to push.

“I also don’t think it would have mattered,” Chrissy adds. “I know those guys, if they’re convinced of something, they won’t stop chasing it. You’re just collateral.”

And Steve has been part of that crowd for years, witnessed them from Chrissy’s perspective for half a year and has been their target for a while now. He knows how they can be. How they don’t need evidence that it’s true, just the knowledge that it hurts. He sighs: “I know.”

“It’s gonna be okay, dingus,” Robin assures him with a soft grin.

“Yeah, I’m sure they won’t do anything with that weapon on you,” Chrissy says, nodding the nail bat he has been swinging absentmindedly.

He looks down at it and laughs, a bit surprised, he had forgotten he is carrying it and that is registers as scary. The nail bat for him is protection, not something to be afraid of. He smiles: “Yeah, I can take them.”

“Like that Russian guard,” Robin pipes up and Chrissy raises her brow at them when Steve nods in agreement.

“But I don’t want to kill anyone,” Steve amends. The bat is for non-human monsters, the kind that don’t stay down after a hit. Steve doesn’t think if he can stomach it if he’s responsible for someone seriously getting hurt, or worse.

“Yeah, yeah,” Robin waves him away. “At some point you gotta stop pulling punches, dingus. I am not capable of saving you if you throw yourself in danger like a dumbass. Look at these arms,” she shakes her arm in his face, “noodles! Incapable of fighting a grown man.”

Steve starts to laugh at Robin. Then Chrissy comments: “I think you could fight someone. You’re pretty strong, Robs.”

The look on Robin’s face is incredible. She turns entirely red and splutters a bit. Steve is now fully laughing at her and she shoves him away with a loud: “Shut up, dingus.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve laughs, putting his hands up as backs away. He wants to laugh a little bit at Robin’s expense, not out her.

He realizes that with them there, he has forgotten a little about why he was in a mood and now he can pay more attention to where they are. He calls out to Dustin: “Hey, we’re going in the wrong way.”

“No we’re not,” Dustin stubbornly replied.

“Dude, I’m telling you, you’re taking us the wrong way,” Steve says, walking a bit faster to catch up with Dustin.

“It’s North. I’m positive. I checked the map,” Dustin tells him in that way that tells Steve Dustin thinks he knows best.

A little annoyed, Steve points out: “You do realize Skull Rock is a super popular make out spot?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t popular, until I made it popular, alright? I practically invented it,” Steve informs him. “We’re heading in the wrong direction.”

He starts walking in the right direction, Dustin might be smart, but Steve knows he’s right here, so he doesn’t listen as Dustin complains: “Steve. Where are you going? Steve!”

“Stop whining,” he just tells Dustin as he waves everyone to come with him. “Let’s go. Trust me.”

Reluctantly Dustin follows as do the others as Steve leads them through a familiar forest. He turned Skull Rock into a make out spot when he was still King Steve, before Nancy he kissed many girls there, wondering why it never really felt like the movies.

Dustin is now walking next to him, looking a little sulkily down at his compass. Steve knows he’ll get over it if he gives him a moment, so he lets him stew as they walk side by side.

Sporadically he turns back to check on everyone. Lucas and Max are seemingly having a good conversation, Chrissy and Robin are joking around as well and Nancy is diligently watching the rear. He makes eye contact with her and she sends him a smile, he smiles back before looking ahead again, wondering why that made him uneasy.

Before he can think too much about it, Dustin suddenly says: “Was Lucas right? You know, when he said the basketball team hates you for not being cool and popular? That doesn’t make sense. You are cool.”

Steve’s heart constricts at that. He knows that Dustin has always looked up to him and he loves the blind faith the boy puts in him. It’s one of the few things he has never wanted to take from any of the kids; their trust in him.

“I’m glad you think so, dude,” Steve says as he scrambles for what else to say.

Dustin shoots him an annoyed look and complains: “Steveee,” obviously realizing how Steve is deflecting.

“Henderson,” Steve counters snappily, before taking a breath. He doesn’t want to fight with Dustin right now, he is too worried about Eddie and being a target himself, so he amends: “It wasn’t the worst, I just lost a fight against Billy and the results were very publicly visible. There isn’t really a social recovery from that.”

“But you’re Steve,” Dustin says, like that means anything. And to Dustin, it probably does.

“I am,” Steve smiles, unable to help the sadness that clings to his voice.

“You are like the coolest guy, I remember Mike yammering on about it when you and Nancy got together,” Dustin replies. “And Billy should have left you alone after Max’s threat.”

“He did, he did,” Steve lies. “Rumors just fly and I was loosing popularity long before that. It just happens sometimes, no big deal. Didn’t you say yourself that popularity is just a construct for high schoolers.”

“I mean, yeah,” Dustin agrees and Steve is glad he is seemingly letting it go, though never entirely of course. “But the basketball team are high schoolers. We need to get into their heads.”

“Dustin, you’re also a high schooler,” Steve points out, faintly amused by the turn this conversation has taken, but feeling the fear creep into his chest as well. He doesn’t want Dustin to press about the basketball team, doesn’t want to lie to him, doesn’t want to think about telling him the truth either.

“It’s different,” Dustin protests.

“Sure it is, buddy,” Steve tells him, going for condescending in the hope Dustin will get offended and defend himself instead of asking further.

“It is,” Dustin insists, taking the bait. “Because I am a mature person, who is above popularity contests, while basketball players by the virtue of being a basketball player, obviously do care, therefore are susceptible to those sort of things. In order to get into their minds, we have to understand that.”

“Lucas plays basketball,” Steve points out the flaws in Dustin’s logic. It’s hilarious that the kid is calling himself mature when he is so clearly kid-like on some fronts.

“He doesn’t count.”

“How so?”

“Well, he came to his senses and saw he was wrong.”

“And what about me?”

“You are on thin ice, but you also distanced yourself – I’m proud of you for that by the way.”

“Oi, don’t get cocky with me now, you little shit!”

“I’m not!” Dustin squawks, then immediately amends: “Well, maybe a little bit. But I’m almost always right.”

“Really?” Steve raises a brow.

“Yeah, like right now,” Dustin replies. “I checked the map and compass a thousand times, Steve. We need to head North and right now we’re not going North. We’re never going to find Eddie like this, I mean it.”

In a twist of beautiful irony, they come up on Skull Rock. Steve doesn’t answer Dustin directly, just exclaims: “Oh boom. Bada bing, bada boom. There she is, Henderson. Skull Rock. In your face, man, in your stupid, cocky little face.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Dustin frowns, because he is a know it all, who can never be wrong.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waves him away as he scans the place for Eddie. “Even with it staring you right in the face, you can’t admit it. Can’t admit you’re wrong, you butthead.”

“I concur,” a voice says behind them and they whip around, only to be filled with relief when it is Eddie, unharmed and well. He grins: “You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead.”

Steve shouldn’t find his little breath and the way he hoist up his jeans hot, but he does, so he just stares dumbly at Eddie for a second, as Dustin says: “Jesus, we thought you were a goner.” He pulls Eddie into a hug while Steve pulls himself together.

He watches as Eddie hugs back and hears the exhausted tone in Eddie’s voice as he replies: “Yeah, me too, man. Me too.”

His heart aches for Eddie, who is obviously going through hell. He just had to flee from Steve’s cabin, a place they thought he would be safe. A place Steve thought, he would be safe. And now that is gone.

It is gone and all the emotions that he had managed to forget while bickering with Dustin come bubbling right back up. He doesn’t know what has happened, but he will never forget arriving at the cabin and seeing it like that, just like his car at graduation. The image is something that will stick with him forever and he can’t imagine what it was like for Eddie to be present as they did it.

Needing to remind himself that Eddie made it out okay, that Steve isn’t alone in what happened and that they’re both shaken up, but have each other, he lets his bat fall and reaches out and pulls Eddie into a hug.

The action is a little clumsy with Eddie stumbling as Steve pulls him in, needing to steady himself before he is able to hug back. But when he does, it’s soothing. Steve can feel parts of his shoulders unclench as he feels Eddie’s warmth under his hands, his breaths against his skin, the way Eddie holds on to his sweater.

“I am so glad you’re okay,” he whispers fiercely. “I- I got so scared when I saw the cabin. They- they graffiti-ed it, broke my front door. Fuck- Eds, they got in.”

Eddie rubs a soothing hand down Steve’s spine. Steve feels kind of guilty, because he should be comforting Eddie right now and instead Eddie is comforting him, but it’s too nice to step away from. Especially when Eddie whispers back: “I’m okay now, sweetheart. We’re okay. I’m sorry about your cabin.”

Steve lets out a laugh, it’s a little hysteric and a little too close to a sob, but it’s a laugh. He steps back before he can get emotional in front of everyone and tries to play it off. “I do not care about my cabin right now, dude.”

He catches Eddie’s eye, heart fluttering when Eddie grins at him the moment their eyes meet. Eddie pats his pockets with a twinkle in his eyes as he says: “I’m glad about that, don’t think I can pay you back right now.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Steve informs him.

Before Eddie can reply to that or defend himself, they are interrupted by an indignant Dustin, who demands to know: “How long has this been going on?”

“What?” Eddie asks, like he honestly has no fucking clue what Dustin is talking about, something Steve knows is a lie, because the edge of a dimple is showing.

“This- this canoodling!” Dustin exclaims and Steve has to bite the inside in his cheek to not laugh at the kid.

“Don’t be dramatic, Henderson,” he tells him, aloofness always coming easy to him. “My house has just been broken into, I’m allowed to be worried about the fugitive I was housing there. Maybe instead of being weird catch Eddie up on that Vector creep.”

“You-” Dustin starts, pointing at Steve in an accusing manner, before dropping it in favor of recounting all their discoveries and the absolute mess that has been the last 24 hours.

As Dustin talks the others chime in with additions to what they experienced to create a full picture for Eddie, who isn’t looking like he has much faith in the operation. Steve can understand that, especially when they move onto how to kill Vecna, for which they would have to go into the Upside Down. Something that isn’t really possible right now.

Their options look pretty bleak.

However, something in the conversation must have triggered Dustin, because he starts to pace up and down as he mutters to himself. Both Steve and Eddie track his movement with curiosity until Eddie leans in and asks: “Hey, uh, Henderson’s not, uh, cursed, is he?”

“Cursed?” Steve repeats. “No, no, he’s fine. Mental? Absolutely.”

That gets a smile out of Eddie again, though Steve can’t feel satisfaction at that, because they both startle when Dustin suddenly yells: “Boom! Bada. Bada. Boom. I was right! Skull Rock was North.”

“Seriously? You’re serious?” Steve asks. He knows Dustin is a cocky little bastard, but this is a little extreme. But Dustin hums as he nods. Steve gestures around them: “This is Skull Rock, okay?” Again that stupid little hum and nod. “You’re totally, absolutely, 100% wrong! Right now.”

“Yes,” Dustin agrees. “And no.”

“Oh my god,” Steve mutters to the sky. He can’t with this kid sometimes. Next to him Eddie snorts at his misery, the traitor.

“This worked correctly when we left the Wheeler’s house. Correct when we got in the car on Curly, but it started to slip the further East we went. Now it’s way off,” Dustin explains. “When I was leading us here, I wasn’t wrong. The compass was.”

“So you’re using faulty equipment. You’re still wrong,” Steve argues, feeling a little silly, but also annoyed. He is right, goddammit. He found Skull Rock. He won’t let Dustin take that from him. He needs the win.

But then the conversation quickly devolves into something Steve can’t follow and he is reminded of just how smart Lucas is as well when the kid easily catches Dustin’s drift. Steve can barely follow the first part, but he does get that there might be another gate.

“Snack sized gate,” Robin nods, also understanding and Steve loves her and her wonderful, dorky mind. Chrissy obviously does too with the way she snorts at that.

“How? Why?” he asks instead, because those are valid questions. Portals are never good news. The only times Steve has seen portals is when monsters crawl out them.

“No idea,” Dustin answers honestly. “All I know is that something is causing this disturbance and the last time we’ve seen anything like it, it was a gate. And I hope it is, because then we’d have a way to Vecna. And a shot at freeing Chrissy and Max from this curse.”

With those words, he starts to walk away and fear grips Steve immediately. He calls out: Where are you going? Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.” Dustin stops and looks back at him. “Eddie’s still a wanted man, who got attacked, I might add. We can’t just go hike in the woods.”

“This little steel capsule,” Dustin holds up the compass like the dramatic nerd that he is, “might be the key to saving Chrissy, Max and Eddie.” He focuses his attention to Eddie, who has been disappearing a little into the background, which is unlike him. “What say you, Eddie the Banished?” Dustin asks him.

“I say, you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor, which – if I’m totally straight with you – I think is a really bad idea,” Eddie tells Dustin and Steve nods, glad the other isn’t letting the kid run towards danger. “But, uh, the Shire- the Shire is burning.”

Steve feels his insides plummet at that, he vaguely recalls this from one of Eddie’s rambles and it sounds like he is going to agree with Dustin. Something that is confirmed to Steve when Dustin starts to jump excitedly like an idiot. Eddie gets up and it feels like the beginning of the end as he says: ��So Mordor it is.”

Everyone takes that as a sign to start moving and Steve picks up his bat as he mutters: “What’s Mordor?” to himself, watching Eddie forget his stuff and run back. A little bitchily he says: “Get your stuff, dude. Let’s go.”

He feels like he’s allowed to be annoyed with Eddie for agreeing to Dustin’s bullshit.

During their walk through the forest, Dustin drags Eddie along with him, excited about the prospect of adventure. Eddie doesn’t look wholly convinced, but Steve isn’t saving him either. Eddie dug his own grave, let him lie in it.

Steve, meanwhile, is watching the rear of the group. The bat swings casually, the weight comforting in his hand. If anyone tries anything, he at least won’t be unarmed.

Eddie never really said what happened at the cabin, but that only makes Steve worry more. Eddie is never quiet. Whatever happened, Steve won’t mind making Jason loose a few teeth.

It’s dark by the time Dustin has lead them to the edge of the lake, right to where Fred must have died. Nancy looks a little green and clings to Steve’s arm, who supports her. After Barb this can’t be easy on her.

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?” Max asks, voicing their confusion out loud.

“Whenever the demogorgon attacked, it always left an opening,” Nancy says, having pulled herself together into her mask of professionalism. “Maybe Vecna’s the same way.”

“Yeah, only one way to find out,” Steve says, not liking where his night is going, because if there is a gate on the bottom of that Lake, Steve knows who is going to check it out. And that is him. He’s not letting anyone else do it, even if he hates the idea of doing it himself.

They go look for a boat unearthing one near the docks. Eddie and Steve carry it to the water, it’s not a big boat, can fit maybe five people, max. Not all of them can go.

It’s clear the others have noticed too, but no one comments on it as Robin steps in, before helping Chrissy aboard as well, then Nancy. Steve wants to protest that, but is distracted by Eddie climbing past him, who is followed by Dustin.

Well, Dustin attempts to follow him. Eddie, however, stops him in his tracks with: “Hey, hey, hey, are you trying to sink us? This thing holds four people, tops. Okay?”

“It’s better this way. You guys stay here with Max. Keep an eye out for trouble,” Nancy explains and Steve realizes they mean to leave him behind there. Just the babysitter again.

“You keep an eye out,” Dustin snarks back, not wanting to be left behind. “It’s my theory.”

“They’re right, Dustin. Leave it,” he speaks up, already thinking about he is going to get aboard as he stealthily puts his nail bat in the boat.

“Since when are you on their side,” Dustin exclaims.

“Since they’re talking sense,” Steve rolls his eyes at Dustin.

“Yeah, listen to Nance,” Robin tells Dustin from where she is making Chrissy more comfortable on the boat.

“Who put her in charge?” Dustin asks, indignantly.

“I did,” Robin replies cheerily and Steve has to work not to laugh at that bitchy comment.

With that Dustin gives in and hands over the compass to Nancy, though he obviously does not want to and will make that clear to everyone. Steve doesn’t care if he complains about it for the rest of his life, as long as he stays away from the danger.

Steve pushes off the boat and quick steps aboard. Eddie has left a space open for him, obviously anticipating this while Nancy frowns, which Steve ignores in favor of apologizing to Dustin, whom he is leaving behind, much to Dustin’s dismay.

Nancy is less annoyed with his presence on the boat when he and Eddie start paddling so the three girls can investigate the waters to look if they see anything.

After a little bit, the compass starts going wild. They have found the gate. Well, probably. They still don’t know for sure. Robin is checking in with Dustin in the most Robin-like manner, informing Dustin that: “Your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capital ‘ahh!’”

She hasn’t realized what that means yet, but Steve has, so he is already taking off his shoes and socks, wanting to get ahead of protests before anyone can notice. Nancy, of course, notices: “Steve, what are you doing?”

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this out,” he informs them, hoping he sounds authoritative enough for them to let him go. “Unless one of you four can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and certified lifeguard for three years, then it’s gotta be me. No complaints, alright?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Eddie backs him up, though Steve thinks that is more out of fear, which he can’t blame the guy for, especially as he watches him fumble with his pocket, probably looking for a smoke.

“I do not want to go down there,” Chrissy agrees, looking anxiously at the blackness pooling all around them.

Steve takes of his sweater, hearing crinkles behind him. When he turns around, Eddie is the source of the noise. He is holding some cigarettes like Steve suspected, but he has also tied a plastic bag around a flashlight so Steve will be able to see down there. Eddie offers it to him with a soft: “Hey. Good luck.”

And it hits Steve that what he is about to do is dangerous. He might not come back, he might not see any of them again.

With lead in his heart, he takes the flashlight from Eddie, letting their fingers touch. Then he looks at Robin, imprinting what she looks like in his mind, before doing the same to Chrissy. He turns back to Eddie then, decides to be a little bold, since it might be the last time.

So, he gives Eddie a one over, getting stuck on his lips between which now is a cigarette, before looking in those deep, dark, beautiful eyes. He winks and says: “Thanks,” before diving into the cold water.

Steve swims down, muscle memory taking over as he searches for the gate. He finds it looking gross and glowing. Sickly in the lake bed. He reaches out to touch it, feeling oddly compelled to do so, startling back when it seems something is trying to reach back.

He needs to get away from it, he thinks wildly, as he kicks off from the bottom and breaks back out on top. He holds on to the side of the boat and reports: “I found it.”

The four, who he must have startled by his sudden appearance, lean back towards him and ask: “You found it?”

“I found it. Yeah, I found it,” Steve confirms, still panting slightly from his time without air, his heart beating fast after the scare. He wants to get out of this water. And soon.

He is about to ask for a hand back onto the boat, needing to tell them to get out of there, because the gate looks out of place. Dangerous. When he feels something wrap around his leg. His eyes grow wide and he catches Robin looking back.

Her excited exclamation to Dustin dies on her lips and she reaches back out to him, the question about whether he is okay never reaching his ears as the something yanks him down.

Steve struggles and fights, but it’s no use. The water around him turns into a slimy feeling as Steve is dragged through the gate. Into the Upside Down.

A/N:

I love conversations between people too much, which gets in the way of plot, but we are getting there, no matter how slow!!!

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 2 years

Text

Not Quite Dead

Ship: Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: You find yourself alone in Hawkins, a town ripped to shambles despite the sacrifices made to save it. Is it better or worse that Eddie doesn't live to see it? He'll tell you himself.

Word Count: 6,085

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of Eddie's fate s4e9, not-quite-flashbacks, a tiny bit of a plot, implied (years previous) sex

Notes: This story takes place after season 4. Reader is Eddie's longtime girlfriend.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Maybe it was best he had no gravestone. The whole town would deface it if he had one. You could see it in your head: tiny little carrots like the ones your English teachers used to mark your papers with, except the carrot would change the name engraved to Eddie 'the freak' Munson. Or maybe they'd just spray paint over his name, or even try to scrape it off, and just write 'the freak' in its place. Or 'murderer' or 'cult leader' or whatever insane shit they thought he was. There would be pentagrams, disgusting graffiti, everything that shouldn't be on his grave—but already decorated his missing posters—would find a home there.

So maybe it was better that there was nothing to commemorate him. But it hurt, just a little bit, to see graves for Chrissy, for Fred, for Patrick—but nothing for the hero of Hawkins.

Not that it meant much to be the hero of Hawkins. There was a line at a constant stand-still leading out of the town, most people desperate to get out of it. Those that stayed lived in fear and muttered about how the Devil had finally come to drag Hawkins to Hell. The ground was still broken and sunk in from the ruptures that had healed only slightly—just enough to no longer be glowing scars in the ground leading directly into what really was Hell.

Everyone was speculating what the cave-ins were. Some people said it was from an earthquake, and that was the most popular theory. Some said it was the result of Satanic activity, and those were the people that defaced Eddie's posters. Some said it wasn't quite Satanic, but definitely paranormal.

You knew what it was. You couldn't talk about it. Not because you alone knew what it was—your friends, the kids who had gravitated toward Eddie and the recent Hawkins graduates who hadn't actually gotten a graduation, knew what had happened. They knew what the ruptures were. They had been trying to get you to join in on their conversations and talk to them about the ruptures, what you had seen in the Upside Down.

But you couldn't talk about it. They knew why. It had taken you almost two months before you could even say your boyfriend's name or look at his destroyed missing posters.

Normally, you told your friends everything, especially Robin, who had been the first person to accept that you and Eddie were a thing. She had been your closest confidant since middle school, when you saw Eddie play for the first time and had an instant crush on him. But you couldn't even talk to her these days. You couldn't tell her that you still woke up in a cold sweat, that you still needed to listen to the tapes of unfinished Corroded Coffin songs that were mostly just Eddie's voice just to get to sleep, that you would zone out only to realize you were crying seemingly over nothing, that you had gone to the store to pick up more of Eddie's cologne because you'd been wearing it and had used it all up already, that you took a shower every time you woke up from an accidental nap because it still felt like you were covered in blood, that you slept in his leather jacket even though it was way too hot for that, that you wore the ring he'd frantically pressed into your hand as his breathing faltered on your necklace, that you refused to delete any of the numerous voicemails on the phone in your room because they were all of Eddie calling you with something for a campaign in his head he wanted to run by you.

And you definitely couldn't tell her that none of these little reminders actually helped, because, at the end of the day, you still had to go to sleep alone after six years of having him just an arm's length away. And there was nothing worse than realizing, every time you turned around to tell Eddie something, that he wasn't there, and that he wasn't ever going to be there again.

You hated Jason. You blamed him for dragging Eddie into this mess. But you understood him now. If you hadn't known about Vecna and the Upside Down, you would have been more than happy to blame someone for Eddie's death, just like he had blamed Eddie for Chrissy.

You had tried so hard not to get Eddie dragged into your life. You'd gotten sucked in when you found Nancy crying in the bathroom after Barb went missing, and your life had gotten a lot more complicated after that. Eddie had always had enough enough on his plate as it was. You never wanted to make it worse.

But then Chrissy—

"Y/N? You okay?" Robin snapped her fingers in front of your face. She looked worried, and you had a feeling she'd been trying to get your attention for a long time. Steve and Nancy, sitting on a picnic blanket with the boys, Max, and Eleven just a few feet away, looked over at you, terrified. Dustin seemed to be the only one who knew exactly why you'd been in your head instead of in the park.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out again," she said, sitting down beside you. "At first I thought it was just because Steve's yapping about girls again, but, uh, then I realized..." She wiped her finger underneath your eyes, and you felt the tear smudge across your cheek. You flinched away violently. Robin went pale. "Oh, God, he used to— Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize—"

You took a shaky breath and swiped your knuckles under your eyes. "It...it's fine. I just...sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, that was totally my fault, I should have realized—"

"No, please. It's fine." You sniffed, breathing out through your mouth. "I'm fine. I just...need a minute."

You got up quickly, your head reeling instantly, and you stumbled toward the public bathroom just feet away. You balled your hands into fists. You went to open the door and something slammed into your arm. You screamed upon recognizing what it was—a bat.

You stumbled backward away from it, your throat tightening and every muscle seizing up. It wasn't a demobat, sure, but it was still a bat. All it took was one glance at its mouth and you could hear Eddie's heavy panting, feel his blood, see the tears on his face, feel his rapidly fading heartbeat beneath your fingers, hear him crying but trying to hide it from Dustin.

The bat chirruped squeakily, hopping toward you on the ground. One of its wings was a bit mangled and bloody, dragging awkwardly behind the rest of its body.

You whimpered, stepping around the bat. "I'm sorry, little guy, but I just really don't like you. Robin says you have...rabies. Or—or something."

No, that was definitely not why you didn't like bats, but you didn't need to explain to the broken creature—or to anyone else, for that matter, including yourself—that you didn't like them because they'd torn your boyfriend apart.

With a quiet whimper, you slammed the door of the bathroom shut behind you. A small thump echoed against the door. You had a feeling it was the bat.

You locked yourself in one of the bathroom stalls and put a hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your tears, just in case Robin or Nancy came to check on you.

~❊~

That night, you stared at your empty bed. You touched the pillow made out of the red and black flannel Eddie had loved to wear when it was cold out. Wayne had given it to you almost immediately after Dustin had told him about Eddie.

"This is...this is yours now," Wayne had said, holding it out to you. You'd tried to protest that no, he should keep it as a memento, but Wayne was having none of it. "He would have wanted you to have it, Y/N. I...I'm sure he told you often, but you were his world. He'd want you to have something of his."

And you did, you really did. You wore the flannel around everywhere, to anything, anywhere, at any time, before it became too much of a memory. Any time you caught a glimpse of it or put it on, you remembered the time he wrapped you up in it after getting caught in the rain, or the time he used it as a pillow for your head when you got busy in his van, or the time he wrapped it around his waist when it got unexpectedly warm. So you cut it up and made it into a pillow case, because that was a little more bearable.

You hugged the pillow to your chest as you lay in the darkness of your room. It still smelled a little bit like him, even after being washed quite a few times. And even after being cried on many, many times.

Tonight was going to be one of those nights, a night where you were crying even before you fell asleep and woke up in the morning, you could just tell.

Head buried into the flannel pillow, you almost didn't hear it. The small thump on your window. But after a few seconds of silence, it registered in the back of your head that that was not normal. The last time you'd heard that sound was when Eddie knocked before crawling through your window at night, some three years ago, before your parents gave up because you loved the metalhead, try as they might try to get you to fall for the jock.

You rolled out of bed and flicked on the light, pushing up the window and shoving your head out into the night.

Nothing.

A chirrup.

You looked down and squeaked.

There it was again, the bat with the mangled wing, resting on the slanted shingles of your roof—one of them out of place from the time Eddie had given you a heart attack by slipping on it. You frowned at the bat, a little less terrified of it than the first time you'd seen it. "How did you get up here, little thing?" Your room was on the third floor of your house, but it seemed impossible that the tiny thing could fly up there with a broken wing.

Ignoring Robin's small voice in your head saying it probably—no, definitely—had rabies and was following you, you reached out a hand and stroked the top of its head. To your surprise, it made a very human-like coo.

"Oh, you just want love, don't you?" You sighed as you took in its wing. "And maybe some help. Look, little one, I'm sorry, but I can't help you. You terrify me." Because you killed my boyfriend, even though you didn't actually kill my boyfriend, and neither did your actual species, but tomato, tomato. "Maybe one day I'll be able to tell you why."

You shut the window and curled yourself around your pillow once more, reaching a hand up to the necklace you refused to take off—the one with Eddie's ring on it. You held the ring tightly in your hand, and it was still there when you jolted awake in the morning, covered in sweat and panicking just like always.

But before you took your usual shower, you glanced out the window.

The bat was gone.

~❊~

"I think I'm going insane."

You sat with Dustin on a park bench, by the edge of the graying field. The disease—or whatever it was, but the townspeople called it a disease—was spreading further and further out each day, but you still hadn't figured out exactly what it was. Nancy was sure it had something to do with the vision Vecna had shown you, but you didn't have the mental or emotional strength to help them figure it out.

You'd seen the bat several more times—at the record store where you worked, at the autobody shop Eddie used to work at, at your front door, on your car, on the sidewalk, through your bathroom window, and several more times by your bedroom window. You didn't know what the others would do if you told them you were seeing the same bat everywhere (Robin might tell you to get checked for rabies), but you trusted Dustin to take you seriously and...and not tell you that you were crazy.

"Why?"

"Because there's a bat with a mangled wing that's following me everywhere."

Dustin frowned. "Go on."

You explained, in detail, every time you had seen the bat. As usual, Dustin put it all together in record time.

"And you think that you're hallucinating the bat...because it's always showing up when you're thinking about...Eddie?"

You nodded. "And more than that—there's something special about each of those places. That sidewalk? Not a random sidewalk! Outside the restaurant Eddie took me to on our first date six years ago. Bedroom window? He always crawled through to come see me! My front door? Whenever I was upset, he'd surprise me with a big bouquet of flowers outside on my front step."

Dustin frowned. "There's...something special about Eddie and your...bathroom...window?"

You blushed. "It's not what you're thinking, I swear, he accidentally broke it once."

"He what?"

"He was waving around an old stick and it broke and flew through the bathroom window. It's nothing creepy, I swear."

Dustin raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure your parents loved him?"

"Eh." You sighed, putting your head in your hands. "I don't know, Dustin. It's just... I feel like I'm losing my mind. Hallucinating. I just don't know why it would be a bat, of all things! I mean...they...or something like them, really..." You put your head in your hands. "Why would I see a bat everywhere that means something to the two of us?"

"He liked bats," Dustin remembered. "In fact, he liked them so much he had a tattoo of them. Maybe that's why?"

"I mean, that would make sense if the demobats hadn't—"

"I know," he sighed. "But now you can't think of the tattoo, you just think of—"

"Blood," you said bluntly. "His blood. His death. Yeah."

"Has anyone else seen the bat?"

"No."

Dustin was silent for a moment, then said, "Alright, fine. Take me somewhere that meant a lot to both of you, another one of those special places, and if you see him, maybe it's a hallucination. But if we both see him, it's not. Then we'll figure out what it is after that."

You thought for a moment, then dragged Dustin to his feet. "I know exactly the place."

~❊~

It took some bribing, but you got the bartender of the bar the boys loved playing at to take you around back to the dressing rooms. You refused to tell Dustin why it was special, other than that the band played here all the time, but you were pretty sure from his expression he figured it out as soon as your eyes darted to the desk and you turned red. You remembered bursting through that door and seeing Eddie perched on the desk, swinging his legs like a little kid because the show had gone so well, and—

"Oh, no," Dustin groaned, jolting you out of your reverie, "don't tell me that you two actually—"

"Fine, I won't tell you."

"You know, saying that is almost worse."

"Oh, shut up, Dustin. We were together for six years, there's not a chance in hell that we didn't—"

"But in a dressing room? A public dressing room?"

"The door was locked!" you said defensively. "Although he did get quite loud that night."

"NOPE, no more!" Dustin said, clamping his hands to his ears. "Alright, fine. It's special. Gross, but special. Why here?"

You flopped into the chair at the desk, remembering Eddie's feet kicked up on it while the two of you kissed and giggled, his back to the mirror. "Two years in, Eddie and the band had a gig and he finally let me, y'know, get on my knees for him, so to speak. It was the second time we ever did anything, so, you know. Special."

Dustin was making a face.

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up, we were sixteen and horny."

He sighed, sitting down on the small couch, the only other piece of furniture in the room. "I'm actually not all that surprised. Seems like Eddie."

You smiled to yourself. "Yeah. Seems like Eddie."

Dustin folded his hands together. "I miss him, too, you know. I miss him being dramatic and standing on tables. I miss the voices he used to do during campaigns. I miss play fighting with him."

You hugged yourself, letting your leg swing. "Yeah... I miss his voicemails, because he'd called me while I was at work when he had an idea. I miss listening to him sing on stage. I miss just hanging out in his room while he wrote songs and I studied. Shit, I even miss watching him get frustrated when he was trying to learn a song on the guitar and it wasn't coming to him. You should have seen him trying to learn Master of Puppets. He was nonstop playing that guitar. I swear he didn't sleep for a week just so he could get it down. I used to tease him he was trying to pick up girls."

"He didn't want other girls," Dustin said, picking up on that old insecurity that used to bubble up all the time. "He wanted you."

"That's why it was teasing, Dusty. There was a time when I was afraid of that, but that was never his fault. If Eddie was one thing, he was loyal to a fault."

Dustin sat in silence, clearly working up the courage to say something. You waited, letting him find the words. Eddie had always done the same thing when he wanted to talk about something that meant a lot to him. No wonder the two of them had clicked so quickly.

"If I could go back to that moment," Dustin said, voice almost imperceptible, "when he decided to draw them away, when he cut the sheet and just—just ran... Y/N, I would. I would go back, and I would change everything. I'd make him go first. I'd...I'd do what he did instead, just to make sure he got back to you."

You looked up, your heart breaking at the absolute sorrow and anger in his voice. "Dustin..."

"If I could have died in his place, I would do it." He was shaking with his fierce determination. "Y/N, I swear it."

You got off the desk. "Dustin, hon, no. Please, no. I don't...I don't wish you had died instead. I wish none of you had to die. I wish Max wasn't blind, I wish Eddie wasn't gone, I wish none of this had ever happened. I wouldn't trade you, any of you, just to get Eddie back because he would have hated that more than anything and because you are my friends."

"But one of us would hurt less than Eddie," Dustin mumbled.

"Dustin," you said, because you could think of nothing else to say. You pulled him into a hug.

And then there was a chirrup in your ear.

You screamed, lurching back, automatically swatting at your shoulder. The little bat fell onto the couch beside Dustin and he squeaked at you, almost accusatory.

"Oh, don't start with me, you scared the life out of me!" you snapped at it, then frowned. "Dustin, did I just argue with the imaginary bat in my head?"

Dustin was staring at the bat. "Yes—you argued with it, no—it's not in your head. I can see it." He stood up slowly. "I thought you said it had a mangled wing?"

You peered at it. "I think it's healing. Look, it's still dragging behind the rest of it, but it's not bloody anymore."

The bat chirruped again, inching closer to you. You slowly extended a hand, the bat's head following your movements. You gave its head a little pet with your forefinger. It sniffed you before chirruping again.

"It looks like a Mariana fruit bat, but this the wrong area for it," Dustin said from behind you. The bat's attention swiveled to him. "Hi, little guy. Where'd you come from? I don't think you got here all the way from Guam. Especially not as a baby."

"Is it a baby?"

"Look at the size of it! It's tiny, there's no way it's not a baby."

For some reason, the bat didn't seem to like being called tiny. It clicked rather angrily at Dustin before flying awkwardly out the window, open just a crack.

"What the hell?" Dustin muttered.

"Well, now you've met the bat," you sighed. "I wonder if I should name it."

"Don't name it! Robin'll think it gave you rabies."

"That's why Robin doesn't get to know about the bat."

"You haven't told her?"

"What would I do that for?! Just go up to her and say, Hello, Robin, I've been adopted by a bat, the same creature you're deathly afraid of because it has rabies! That'll go over swell, I'm sure."

Dustin rolled his eyes. "No need to be dramatic. It's not like the bat's done anything to you. Yet."

"Yet being the word Robin would pick up on. Look, for now, let's just keep it between us. Figure out why the bat likes me. Then go from there. If it's something to do with Vecna, then we'll tell them."

"And if not?"

"I'm sure it'll go away when it's fully healed. That's gotta be why it's following me. It's injured and not thinking straight."

~❊~

Storms had become even more and more recent in Hawkins. The weather was reflecting the foul of mood of the townspeople—or perhaps of Vecna, if Eleven was right. You were almost entirely certain she was.

But you couldn't put your finger on why Vecna hadn't attacked yet. Why would he let his displeasure show through the torrential showers that were ripping shingles off of Hawkins rather than just come through to kill everyone off himself?

You were debating exactly that as you sat through another storm of hurricane strength, staring out the window and waiting for it to be over. Sometimes the storms were only a few seconds long, but this one felt like it was going to last for days.

You sighed and rolled off your bed, flopping on the floor beside your collection of cassette tapes. There had to be twenty Corroded Coffin tapes in there, but you were looking for one specific one. It wasn't quite a Corroded Coffin tape, really, because Eddie never let the band see this one—this one was just for you, songs he'd written when you couldn't look over his shoulder to see the words.

It took a little bit to find the tape, but once you did, you felt immeasurable relief. You played the tape and cracked open your window enough to smell the rain, leaning your back against your bed and closing your eyes.

Eddie's voice flooded your ears as he started the little speech he'd written for the first song. He'd written one for each song, explaining why he'd written it and when or something special about it. He'd been adorably embarrassed when he handed it to you, blushing profusely and apologizing about how stuttery he was when he'd recorded it and how his voice was a little shaky and how they weren't exactly what he wanted them to sound because he didn't have the band to do the background music. But you'd loved them all.

"Hi, sweetheart. Happy seventeenth birthday. Belated, sorry, but I, uh...I couldn't get all these perfect in time, so... So I waited. Um. They're still not as perfect as I'd like them to be, but, uh. But you deserved your birthday gift before you thought I'd forgotten about you. Uh. Yeah. So. Ah, jeez, I didn't think an introduction would be this hard. Maybe I should have had a script," his recorded voice said with that little breathy laugh you'd always loved. "Um. Anyway. This...this first one. I wrote it a while ago, actually, for you. Like a long while ago. Like when I first realized I liked you a while ago. Probably before you knew I existed. I'm talking middle school early— Maybe I should stop talking about how long ago I wrote it. Um. Sorry. Rambling. Uhhh...it's about how I felt that first time I saw you. A little cliché, yeah, but, um...every word's true. Every word, sweetheart. I really did fall in love with you at first sight. I mean, how could I not, when you looked over at me and smiled like that, that shy smile with your tongue poking out between your teeth and bottom lip. I love that smile. So, um. So I called it 'Shy Smile.' The song. This song. So, um. Here goes nothing, I guess."

And, oh, could that boy sing. Corroded Coffin might have been a heavy metal band, but Eddie could certainly manage the soft songs just as artfully. He had the perfect voice for it, a gentle croon that had sometimes lulled you to sleep.

You remembered very clearly Eddie singing the songs he wrote for you and smoothing his hand over your hair to get you to sleep when you were stressed or upset. And it had always worked.

Recorded Eddie hummed through his guitar solo and your chest tightened. You drew your legs up, settling your head on them. "Oh, Eddie, you have no idea how much I need you."

And then, a few songs later, he was crooning about how much he loved you, promising never to leave you, telling you he'd always be by your side.

The tears came suddenly and didn't stop. Your body shook violently as you sobbed, his name somewhere in between the sniffles and cries. You dragged the flannel pillow off the bed and wrapped your body around it, burying yourself in his familiar, if faint, scent.

It took Eddie's voice in another song's introduction to ground you again. "Okay, baby, I've got a happier one for you. Well. Not that they've been sad, really, just...this one's less sappy. Even though I know you're a sap, and I'm a sap, and we're just two hopeless romantics." God, you could hear his smile. "This one's about that day we spent at Lover's Lake. That was...such an—an awesome day. And I promise it's not about the sex in the van, I want you to be able to listen to this with your parents around." A beat, which you managed a shaky laugh during. "Not sure if you can now, now that I've...that I've said that. Well, just let me know, I'll make you another tape without the introductions if I gotta. And don't you say it's too much work, because I'll do anything for my girl. Got that? Anything. Okay. Here we go, I called this one 'Lake Swimming.'"

You wiped your eyes. "It's okay. You're okay. You've still got him like this. And that's all you can have now."

In the midst of the softness of Eddie's acoustic guitar, you heard it. The chirruping. Your head snapped toward the window, and there was the little bat, clinging to the window and trying desperately to squeeze through the tiny crack.

You lurched to your feet. "Oh, you poor thing! Out in that storm all by yourself. And so little!" It squeaked. "Oh, right. You don't like being called little. What's that about?" You pushed up the window, cupping the bat in your hands. "Oh, oh no, you're shivering!" You closed the window with your elbow, cuddling the bat close to your chest. "Robin would so kill me for this."

The bat chirruped.

"What is it? Do you want to be put down?"

The bat sniffed your hands and attached itself to your shirt, crawling up you until it had reached your shoulder. It perched there.

"Um. Okay, then," you said, sitting back down carefully. "I wonder if you're hungry..." Well, you had some fruit in the fridge, and a fruit bat would certainly eat that, right? "Can I put you down so you don't freak out my parents?" You gently plucked the bat from your shoulder, nestling him on the flannel pillow. "Um. Stay. I'll be right back."

You hurried downstairs, grabbing the container of fruit from your fridge with a flippant excuse that you were just a little hungry. The bat was sitting exactly where you left it when you returned and offered it a piece of fruit.

It crawled into your hand and munched down on the fruit. You sat back on the floor, turning the volume on Eddie's tape up a bit more. "I hope you don't mind my boyfriend's music, my friend. It's quite good, if I say so myself, and I don't think I'm just biased. He's really good." You sat in silence, propping your head up on one of your knees again. "I miss him."

The bat looked at you curiously. You put it and the fruit on your floor, reaching for a framed photograph of yourself and Eddie instead, with his arms slung around you from behind and a smile on his face as you kissed his cheek. You vision blurred as you lifted the photo to your lips and kissed it gently.

"I'd give anything," you said to the bat, staring fixedly at Eddie's happy face, "just to see him again, just for a few minutes. Just to...to get a better goodbye. To kiss him goodbye and hold him and make it as peaceful as possible. To tell him it would be alright. To tell him I love him. To tell him that I miss him. No. No, I wouldn't tell him I miss him, because then that would make him feel guilty, and how can you feel guilty about dying? I mean...it's not his fault." You wiped your eyes. "I'd just...I'd want to make him feel better. Peaceful. I don't...I wish he hadn't gone out the way he did, y'know? In pain. Crying. Knowing what was coming. Having to say goodbye to—to Dustin." You laughed shakily. "Oh, God, Eddie. I'm going insane. I'm talking about you to a bat." You looked down at your feet. "A bat that's now missing in my house. Or maybe he was never there in the first place and I'm just crazy."

"You're not crazy," said his smooth voice, and your head whipped toward the cassette player. Since when was the quality so good? A small chuckle from behind you. You froze. "Wrong way, sweetheart." And two fingers, one marked by a tan line where a ring would have been, slipped under your jaw, turning your head slowly.

His eyes—his sweet, pretty eyes—stared you full in the face. Your eyes took him in, noticing the scars on his face and his hips. You studied him, drinking in every hollow in his gaunt body. But you knew those tattoos. You knew those eyes. You knew that voice.

You blinked rapidly, subtly pinching your arm. He laughing, covering your hand with his own.

"You're naked, Eddie," you said, and you realized seconds after they came out that they were not the words you wanted to be saying. You clapped your hands over your mouth, face heating.

Eddie shrugged. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Eddie, you're..."

"Nope. I'm not."

"Eddie, I was there, I saw you die in Dustin's arms!"

"Nope," he said again, and you could finally hear how tired and haggard he sounded it. "Unfortunately not."

"Unfortunately?!"

He shrugged. "I think being dead would be better than my fate." He pointed to the fruit left on the floor. "That's the first I've eaten in almost three months."

"You— The fruit? You were the bat?!"

He nodded.

"Right, okay, mister, what the fuck?"

He sighed. "So no loving and tearful greeting for the not-dead boyfriend?"

"Eddie. Talk to me. And then maybe I'll cry over you. But I want answers first."

Eddie leaned against you, cuddling his body closer to yours. Automatically, you reached an arm around his shoulders. He made a chirruping sound similar to the sound of the bat he'd been only minutes before. "Truth is, I don't have a lot of answers. All I know is that I died in the Upside Down, then woke up here as a bat. And then I tried to not be a bat, of course, but that didn't help. I just broke my wing. Not sure if that means my arm was broken or...something. I'm sure that'll be an awkward doctor's visit in the future. Point is, once I figured out I couldn't...change form or whatever you wanna call it, I tried to find you, but it's all different when you're a bat. I had to pick up your scent, but I couldn't."

"So that day at the park, by the bathrooms—"

"I'd finally caught sight of you. After that, I figured I should try and stay close. I thought maybe you'd figure out it was me somehow, if I was obvious enough."

"Which is why you always found me at our special places."

Eddie sighed his relief into your shoulder. "Exactly." He wrapped his arms around your waist. "Oh, sweetheart."

You brushed a hand over his hair, your shocked brain not quite realizing that he was really there but already falling back into the routine of your relationship. "So how'd you get human again?"

"Dunno. I think you made me cry and it made me feel human enough to be around you, talking about me and listening to my music." He looked into your eyes. "I do feel guilty. About not being able to tell you sooner that I was still kicking. I...I know it was hard for me, but...I was kind of scatterbrained. I couldn't quite process being alone. But you... You had everything to deal with, all those emotions."

"We'll talk this out in the morning."

"Why not now?"

"Because you're shivering against me. You were a soaked bat about three minutes ago, and now you're a very naked boy again. Let's get you warmed up, okay? I'll run the shower."

Eddie whimpered with relief at your words, clinging to you as you helped him to stand up on wobbly legs. You helped him into your bathroom and shower, joining him to make sure he wouldn't fall on his own. He clung to your arm as the two of you attempted to get him warm and clean.

"Your clothes are soaked now," he mumbled, but still pulled you into a tight hug against his chest.

"I don't really care," you whispered. "I'm holding you again."

When you shut the shower off, you made Eddie sit on the floor as you fetched him clothes.

It wasn't until you'd gathered clothes—all of them his, some of them (like the shirt) given to you by Wayne, but most of them (like the pants and boxers and socks) were from Eddie leaving them behind at your house for the nights he snuck in through your window—that it truly hit you that he was back.

He wasn't just back, he was alive.

Your Eddie.

Alive. Safe. In your bathroom. Home where he belonged.

You dropped the clothes as you fell to the floor, sobbing with relief. Eddie came running into your room, kneeling beside you.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong, what happened? What can I do? Is it me?"

You pulled him closer to you, burying your head into his neck. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong, Eddie, everything's perfect. Back to the way it should be. You're here."

He wrapped his arms tightly around you. "I'm here," he promised. "I've got you."

You cupped his face in your hands, kissing him softly. He whimpered against your mouth, missing you as much as you missed him. You pressed your forehead to his as he scooped you up and laid you gently on your bed. He pulled away from you, picking up his clothes and pulling them on. He laid beside you, pulling you back into his arms.

"Don't you ever make me think you're dead again, Eddie Munson, you hear?"

He kissed you again, arms sliding around your back. "Loud and clear, sweetheart."

"Good," you whispered into his mouth, "my little bat."

Eddie smiled against your lips. "Not little."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Eddie Munson

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the E.M. taglist!} @ohatropa @lilylilyyyyyy

#season 4 stranger things #stranger things #stranger things au #au stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #bat eddie #stranger things eddie #fix it fic #stranger things fix it

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thegoblinboy · 10 months

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Eddie’s fangs poke out as his curls dance along with the wind. Tilting his head back as he gathers as much fresh air as he physically could. Smelling the salt of the ocean, that burns the back of his throat a bit as he balances with ease on the highest post. One that was inhumanly possible to reach. But yet here he was, staring at the ocean reliving a dream that he once had. A sick Deja Vu effect as he looks down scanning the few men on board. Moving and throwing himself to the next post that was unable to be seen by his men. Hidden by the flags and sheets that flew in the air. Glancing down in search for him.

Tilting his body he closes his eyes, searching the ship with his eyes closed. Smirking when he recognizes the familiar heartbeat he craved to feel against his tongue as he drained the boy of blood. But he won’t. As much as he wanted to. Even though it was like destiny, two freckles on Steve Harringtons neck constantly teasing him. Even now as he comes out of the winery (where Eddie placed his heartbeat) carrying cases as he rambles about something to his close friend Robin. Moon shining against his face in such a heavenly way it made him want to devour Steve.

A soft growl rips through the night, moving like mist Eddie finds himself hidden in the shadows. Hanging upside down as he begins to eavesdrop on the twos conversation. Wrapping his wings around himself like a bat. Like a cloak as he says hidden in his own world. Keeping himself hidden from the boy whose hands are now flying in the air. After setting the box of wine down on the ship floor. Voice starting to go loud, loud enough for Eddie to hear but soft enough for only Robin and Steve.

“Only People who like boobies do that!”

“Ewwww, Gross! Don’t say boobies!”

“Boobies! Not a big deal okay! I like Boobies, You like boobies, Chrissy most definitely likes boobies. And she’s a witch Robbie! There is nothing straight about being a witch. Name one witch that we have met that has been entirely straight.” Steve’s hand now lands on his hip as Eddie has to hold back laughter. Feeling the presence of Gareth slowly creeping next to him. Not saying anything yet.

“Well there was.. there was Argyle!” Robin spits out.

“Oh he doesn’t count and you know it, for one he’s a wizard. Two, he loves boobies just as much as us even before he transitioned. He just hated his own, which does not count in this situation Robin. And you know it.” Steve’s glaring at her now before he adds. “That and we made out that one time at that bar in Italy which by the book makes him not straight.”

Eddie feels like he’s going through whiplash trying to keep up with this conversation as Gareth groans. “Please don’t eat this one, I actually like him.” Before he’s walking away as if nothing happened. Playfully slapping Robins shoulder as he passes.

“Sorry to break the news to you but Chrissy doesn’t likes boobies.” Robins whole deamenor deflates. “She loves them just as much as she loves thighs.” Gareth grins in a teasing manner as proceeds to head to his bunker. Already knowing that once Chrissy caught wind of what he said, he was going to end up sounding like a thirteen year old boy again. When in reality he was only three years younger then Eddie’s twenty.

Meanwhile, Eddie watches the two dorks that somehow landed on his ship begin to bicker more as they head in their own direction. Most likely to the bottoms of the ship where their own beds lay.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #bxb #steveharrington #steveddie #eddie stranger things #steve and eddie #chrissy cunningham #Robin has a crush on Chrissy #Steve is hyping her up #vampire Pirate au #Gareth Emerson

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spaceoddball1969 · 2 years

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Falling for the Freak - Eddie Munson Fix-It Fic - Chapter 16

Hello hello friends! I hoep you all are doing well! This will not be proof-read - I start a second job tomorrow and I have to be up at 6am (bleh). Anyway, please enjoy!

CHAPTER SUMMARY: The reader and Eddie camp out at Reefer Rick’s while the Hawkins gang tries to figure out how the heck they’re going to stop Vecna and prove Eddie’s innocence.

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: Fluff, language, discussion of murder and demonic possession. Also - not to offend any Stancy shippers - but we’re not doing that here. That is definitely going to be part of this fix-it situation. Jancy is here to stay because Jancy has literally been my ship since day one back in 2016 when this ridiculous show first came out.

Chapte 16

Time felt like it was going by incredibly slow and incredibly fast at the same time. I woke up at first when the sun came up. It lit the room, casting shadows across the walls. I sleepily pulled Eddie closer to me and then everything that had happened the previous day and night came crashing down on me. I opened my eyes suddenly wide awake and I stared at Eddie, who was still asleep next to me. His hair was all over his face and his chest rose and fell slowly. Every part of me ached to be able to scream at the entire town of Hawkins that this man was innocent. If they only knew him, they would see that he couldn’t possibly have hurt Chrissy. He was too good. Too kind.

I wrestled with myself for a moment, trying to stop the tears from pouring out. I moved closer to Eddie and rested a hand on his chest. He was still mostly asleep, but he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight against him. I listened to his heart beating in his chest. It was the best heart I had ever known.

I fell asleep for a little while longer after that. I was woken up by the scratching sound of Dustin’s walkie talkie. Then I heard a muffled voice coming through the speaker. Both Eddie and I sleepily sat up from our place wrapped around one another. Eddie rubbed his eyes as he reached for the walkie talkie.

“Morning, Henderson,” he said.

“Eddie it’s almost noon,” Dustin said.

“Whatever,” Eddie said, “what’s going on?”

“We’re coming to the house,” Dustin said. “We need you to let us in,”

“Roger that,” Eddie said.

“Over and out,” Dustin said.

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbled. “Over and out,”

Eddie set the walkie talkie back on the night stand and looked at me. His eyes looked heavy with sleep and a little bit of stubble was forming on his face. I pushed his hair out of his face and he closed his eyes at my touch. Eddie leaned his head into my hand and kissed my palm.

“I was really hoping that when I woke up that all of this would have been a dream,” he said. “Except for you,”

“It feels like a dream,” I said. Eddie’s eyes met mine and he leaned forward to kiss me once. He rested his forehead on mine and closed his eyes. I held his face in my hands and stroked his cheek with my thumb. “Come on,” I said. “We should get dressed, they’ll probably be here soon,”

Eddie nodded and we both got out of bed. Eddie pulled on his pants and I gave him his Hellfire shirt. I put on my own clothes and walked with Eddie out to the living room to watch for Steve’s car.

After about ten minutes we saw the car pull up. They moved slow so the engine wouldn’t make too much noise. I watched as Dustin, Max, Robin, and Steve all carfully closed their doors and then snuck up to the front porch. Eddie had the door open before they could knock.

“We’ve got news,” Dustin said as he walked in.

“Good news?” I asked.

“Not really,” Robin said.

“It’s pretty bad out there,” Steve said.

The four of them sat down on the couch across from me and Eddie. Dustin spoke first. “The cops are convinced that Eddie is the murderer. He’s at least the prime suspect. They haven’t put out his name publicly, so that’s at least kind of good. It’ll happen though, sooner or later,”

“And once they do...” Max said.

“I’ll be undesirable number one,” Eddie said, chewing on his lower lip nervously.

“Yeah basically,” Robin sighed defeatedly.

“I don’t mean to be questioning you all, but how exactly are you planning on defeating the evil wizard?” I asked. “How have you stopped this shit before?”

“We usually rely on Eleven,” Steve admitted. “She usually takes care of everything with her superpowers.” He paused, not sure if he should go on. “But she kinda lost them last time.”

“Lost them?” I asked.

“She overexerted herself last time,” Max said. “It was like she blew a fuse or something,”

“And she’s in California anyway,” Dustin said. “It’s not exactly like she could show up today and stop Vecna even if she had her superpowers,”

There was a deafening silence as we all realized how hopeless the situation seemed. It was interrupted by the sudden outbreak of police sirens seeming to come from down the road. We all ducked down to be out of sight from the windows. I crept to the edge of the nearest window at watched as a line of police cars zoomed past the house.

“They aren’t stopping here,” I said, relief flooding through my body.

“But where are they going?” Dustin asked.

“My trailer park is in that direction,” Eddie said. “Why would they be going back there?”

“You don’t think-” Robin started and then stopped before she could voice the horrible idea.

“There’s going to be another victim,” Max said, standing up. “We’ve gotta follow them,”

They started to pour out of the house and then Eddie grabbed me. “Go with them,” he said.

“What?” I asked. “And leave you here?”

“Yes,” Eddie replied. “Go figure out what’s happening. Make sure that son of a bitch didn’t get my uncle ok?”

I realized Eddie was scared the monster had come back to his trailer and had killed Wayne just like it had killed Chrissy. “Of course,” I said. “I’ll be back,”

“I know,” Eddie said. “Now, go on,”

I rushed out the door and yelled for Steve to hold on. “I’m coming!” I said.

I slid into the back seat with Max and Dustin as Steve pulled out of the driveway. Steve was quick to catch up to the cops. He followed them closely until we reached Forrest Hill. The trailer park entrance was swarmed with cops. All around us there were men in uniforms moving about, mostly trying to keep onlookers at bay. Steve parked the car and we all got out. I was scanning the crowd of people, looking for Wayne or any sign of a body and then I noticed a familiar face.

“Nancy?” I asked to myself.

It was almost on cue - she looked up from the police officer she was talking to and met my glance. She looked terrified. Me and Steve exchanged a look and he looked equally concerned. We waited a few minutes for Nancy to finish answering the cops’ questions. When she was finally able to, she rushed over to us.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked.

“It’s Fred,” Nancy said, “they found his body this morning. I was here with him yesterday trying to get answers about the body found in the trailer - he disappeared. I couldn’t find him, he was just gone - and now...” she spoke quickly until her voice choked and she had to fight back tears. “He’s dead. He’s been killed.”

“Do they think Eddie did it?” I asked. “Do they think Eddie killed Fred?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “They think he’s involved with Chrissy’s death, but he has no connections to Fred. All I know is they’re looking for him,”

“We know where he is,” Robin said and then the boys shushed her.

“Come on,” Steve said, “let’s get out of here, we’ll catch you up,”

---

After we had all traded information, we began to strategize. Nancy wanted to pursue the Victor Creel story that she had heard from Wayne Munson. He was supposedly a psychobath from back in the day that had killed his family and ended up in Pennhurst Asylum. Wayne theorized that he had broken out of the asylum and come back to Hawkins. I felt like it might be a long shot, but it at least was something.

“Wait,” Max said. “I might have something,” We all looked at her expectantly, “Chrissy was seeing Ms. Kelly. Maybe she can fill us in on something we don’t know,”

“Like what?” Steve asked.

“Like a motive?” Max asked. “Maybe Chrissy was dealing with something we’re all unaware of,”

“We’ve gotta split up,” I said. “There’s too much ground to cover.”

We decided that Steve, Dustin, and Max would go pay a visit to Ms. Kelly’s house while Nancy, Robin, and I would investigate the Victory Creel theory. Before we split up, I asked Dustin to borrow his walkie talkie. I turned to the channel Eddie’s was set to.

“Hey,” I said. “Come in, I’ve got news,”

Eddie’s voice crackled out of the speaker. “What’s going on?”

“It wasn’t your uncle,” I said. “But it was another Hawkins student,”

“Oh God,” Eddie said. “Any plans?”

“We’re going to split up,” I said. “I’m going to the library with Nancy and Robin,”

“Nancy Wheeler?” Eddie asked. “She’s involved?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Dustin is going with Max and Steve to visit the school counselor to ask her some questions,”

“I’m very confused,” Eddie said.

“I’ll fill you in once we know more,” I said. “Over and out,”

“Over and out,” Eddie replied.

I followed Nancy to her car and got in the passenger’s seat. Within a few minutes were back in town and parked outside the library.

“Do you really think that this guy broke out and killed Chrissy and Fred?” I asked Nancy as we scanned through newspaper archives.

“It’s a longshot, I know,” Nancy said. “I just don’t want to leave any stone unturned,”

“Not gonna lie,” Robin said, “it would make me feel a lot better if we’re dealing with just an average psychopath and not some kind of interdimensional dark wizard man,”

“Why did Victor Creel kill his family anyway?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Nancy said, “Mr. Munson wasn’t sure either,”

“Is it possible that this all could be connected?” Robin asked. “Like could what happened to Victor Creel and his family be what is happening to us now?”

“That was like thirty years ago,” Nancy said. “The gate to the Upside Down didn’t open until like three years ago,”

“But what if there was another gate?” I asked. “We’re looking for the wrong things, the wrong connections,”

Robin suddenly got up and left the room. She returned a few minutes later, holding something new for us to scan through. “It’s The Weekly Watcher,” she said excitedly.

“That stuff is just full of fake UFO sightings,” Nancy said, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah but maybe they wrote about good old Victor Creel back in the day,” Robin said, optimistically.

“They’ll probably make it out to be a demonic possesion or something,” I said. “Especially back in the fifties,”

Robin paused. “Um... Y/N” she said. “Are you like psychic or do you have a secret obsession with The Weekly Watcher that we should know about?”

“No and no,” I said, “Why?”

“You need to look at this,” Robin replied.

Me and Nancy both moved over to where Robin was staring down at a headline printed in large black letters.

MAN KILLS FAMILY, BLAMES DEMONIC POSSESSION

“What the fuck?” I asked.

We scanned through the article. Victor Creel claimed that his family’s house was haunted by a powerful demon. After they had hired a priest to perform an exorcism, Creel claimed that the family was attacked and killed as punishment. Victor was left alive to bare the pain this exact punishment.

“There’s no way,” Nancy said.

“We’re dealing with the idea that demons and multiple dimensions are possible, how is this going too far for you?” I asked. “It’s a lead,”

“Right,” Robin said. “What if the demon was Vecna?”

“Oh my God,” Nancy said.

---

When we finished up at the library, I asked Nancy to drop me off at Dustin’s house. I needed to pick up some clean clothes and I wanted to grab some supplies for Eddie. My aunt wasn’t home when I entered the house, so I scratched out a note saying that I had come by and was going to spend another night with Robin.

I went back to my room and changed quickly. I pulled out my backpack and stuffed a few shirts and another pair of jeans into it. I located all of Eddie’s shirts that I had stolen from him in the last three months and then went to raid the fridge.

Just as I was zipping up the backpack, there was a knock at the door. I froze and slowly approached the door. I couldn’t place why, but I felt incredibly uneasy about who was on the otherside. I peaked out the peephole and saw a handsome young man standing on the front porch. He was blonde, blue eyed, and was wearing a green Hawkins High letterman jacket. Before he knocked again, I opened the door.

“Hi,” I said. “Who are you?”

“My name is Jason Carver,” the young man replied. “Is Dustin here? We were meant to hang out today,”

Something felt terribly wrong about this situation. “Uh, no he’s not here,” I said.

“Do you know where he might be?” he asked.

“Not sure,” I said. “Maybe the arcade?”

“Already looked there,” Jason said.

“Then I really can’t help you,” I said. “Sorry,”

“Tell him I stopped by when you see him,” Jason said. “I really need to talk to him,” Jason was just about to turn around to leave when he paused and looked back at me. “Aren’t you Munson’s girl?”

That was it. He was looking for Eddie. “Not anymore,” I said. “Broke up with him a few weeks ago,”

“So you wouldn’t know where he is then?” he asked.

“Not in the slightest,” I said.

“That’s probably for the best,” Jason said. “Nice girl like you shouldn’t be hanging out with freaks like him,”

“You have a good day now,” I said and closed the door.

I locked it behind me, my heart racing. I watched as Jason met up with several other boys at his car across the street. Then I heard a thump coming from Dustin’s room. I panicked, thinking they were breaking into the house. I grabbed an umbrella that was leaning the corner next to the door and slowly began to approach Dustin’s room. When I was outside, I could hear someone shuffling around inside. I busted the door open, my umbrella at the ready and then suddenly stopped when I saw a familiar face.

“Lucas!?” I cried.

“Y/N!” he yelled. “Don’t swing, I just needed Dustin’s walkie to warn him Jason’s looking for him. I’m going to divert them if I can,”

“Why are they trying to find Dustin?” I asked.

“They know Eddie killed Chrissy and they think that Dustin knows where he is,” Lucas said.

“Wow you are so out of the loop,” I said. “Eddie’s innocent, it’s the Upside Down that’s doing all of this,”

Lucas froze. “How do you know about the Upside Down?” he asked.

“Dustin told me,” I said.

“Never mind,” Lucas said. “I gotta get these guys out of here. Stay away from Jason, he’s lost his mind,”

---

Once I saw Jason drive away with the rest of his gang, I went out to find my bike. It took too long, but I finally made it back to Reefer Rick’s. The sun had set by the time I stashed my bike in the boathouse. I snuck in the back door and called out for Eddie. I walked slowly through the house hissing Eddie’s name. Finally he popped out from the bathroom, I couldn’t help but notice the pocket knife in his hand.

“Eddie, it’s me,” I said. “Put it down,”

“Sorry,” he said. “can never be too careful,”

“I brought you some stuff,” I said, passing him the backpack.

“God you’re the best,” he said.

We sat in the bedroom with the walkie talkie near as I filled him in on everything we had found out today. We hadn’t heard from Dustin or Lucas and I was beginning to get worried. The house was dark, the only light coming from a candle we found. It lit the bedroom with an orange glow, casting flickering shadows across our faces. Suddenly the walkie talkie sprang to life.

“Code red!” Dustin’s voice shouted. “Code red, we’re coming your way!”

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“We’ll be there in 20!” Dustin shouted. “It’s Max!”

Falling for the Freak Taglist:

@dilophosaurusatenewman @efvyqrs @babeyglo @aestaethicvante @kbakery @kaqua @aereth @starryeyedkoko @livlaughquinn @lorrainlikesprivacy @possiblyexisting @cryuki-patootie @beepisbeep

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fix-it fic #falling for the freak #chapter 16 #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fix-it fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson is innocent

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discoscoob · 2 years

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The fact you guys don’t know how a ship works astounds me.

The character can have 5 minutes of interaction and get ship with another character.

Another character could have 45 minutes of interaction and still get ship together.

That’s what’s happening between Steddie and Hellcheer.

Hellcheer is basically run by headcanons from Grace and her fans. Off of at least a 5-10 minute interaction.

And Steddie is run by queers, who saw their interactions as something else. Especially since they have more screen time.

I just don’t understand why there has to be a ship war, people harassing people, a celebrity trying to make a ship and her headncanon canon, everyone going at each other throats, and some people threatening harm on someone.

You would think both parties are mature, but their not.

I mean I get your point but it’s obvious who’s the aggressors.

Literally no hellcheer shippers were dragging steddie or invalidating people for shipping it until we started getting called p*dophiles, homophobic, racist and whatever else other name under the sun for simply minding our own business and shipping our ship.

We’re actually the tired ones if you haven’t noticed. Look at the difference. Who do you see laughing and making jokes out of the situation most? Steddie shippers putting basketballs in their display name, clearly they found the whole thing hilarious, meanwhile I and other hellcheer shippers were upset by the situation and needed to take a step back for a few hours.

You’ve got them bringing up Grace’s past abuse and trauma and joking about it, accusing her of all sorts which is literally defamation.

And don’t even patronise me telling me I don’t know how ships works when I literally ship Robin and Chrissy and they never even interacted once on screen. I’m fully aware canon doesn’t matter. But we’re the ones constantly told we’re delusional for seeing anything between Chrissy and Eddie even though the actress “who’s trying to make it canon” and the actor both confirmed they were acting flirtatious in that scene. Sorry for picking up on how they were obviously acting.

I will agree with anyone who says this ship war is stupid and you will notice I only engage in it to 1) defend myself. 2) defend the actors or the characters. 3) defend the ship.

I’m not going to take responsibility for a ship war I didn’t and had no interest in starting but have every interest in finishing.

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dxringred · 2 years

Note

HELLO FELLOW ST/DDIE NOT-QUITE HATER BUT JFC DO THE DOUBLE STANDARDS REALLY NEED TO BE SO OBVIOUS?

i love the fandom, but this issue has been present since. forever. since steve stans were shitting on nancy after the halloween party scene, making fics and long-ass paragraphs bemoaning steve’s puppy-dog eyes when he heard that nancy say that she was pretending to be in love. as if the scene wasn’t about NANCY and her grief??

and then again! when robin came out, the initial “holy shit, we finally have some canon queer rep of quality!! robin’s such a cool character, and this was a beautiful scene!” people immediately latched on to the fact that she didn’t label herself explicitly as a lesbian in order to shove her and steve together. and again, the steve stans raved about what an excellent ally steve was, when the scene was about ROBIN and pushing past her obvious fear to tell steve something like that.

and most recently, with the vickie and robin scenes. i personally don’t ship them, but even that was, apparently, content tailored for the steve stans. the fact that the directors might be leading into an actual romance life for a canonical lesbian character (though nancy has literally been right there. even the actors are in support of the ship)? unimportant because look!! look how proud steve looks in that scene, look how happy he is for robin. wtf.

steve’s a great guy, a fun character and he’s got depth and kindness etc etc. eddie… i mean. he’s also really cool and i get why people like him, i really do. but he barely had a season’s worth of character development, and already he’s a fan favorite. i like the ship, but i hate the fact that once again, the fandom is full-on obsessing over the “cute white boys” and neglecting the wlw pairings

and it’s so much more than a bunch of people upset that their ship isn’t as popular. this is an actual issue, where the lack of wlw content and attention is forever being overshadowed by the mlm pairings.

damn, i didn't even know it was possible to send asks this long-

sadly, i don't know any history of the stranger things fandom since i've never watched the show, let alone engaged in the fandom, but i can attest to the rock/ie one since i've seen several posts mentioning how steve looked like a proud parent or w/e, and then others being all "poor steve" since he's single while robin has vickie and nancy has johnathon. (for now.)

on his own, steve's an okay character to me. his development was good until 4B messed it up with him latching onto nancy again, but even with that, i've never gotten the impression that there's a lot of. depth to him? like it's very much the basic character arc of "popular highschool asshole realizes it is bad to be an asshole and that he actually cares for others". totally fine but hardly groundbreaking lol. and if i see his chest hair one more time-

i haven't watched the show, so i can't attest to eddie outside of gifs, but again. nothing special from what i've seen. his little arc seems to be 'manning up'? instead of fleeing like he did with chrissy (which i thought was a perfectly valid reaction, frankly), he dives into lover's lake, helps save steve and then sacrifices himself which ultimately then lowkey negates the development because he's fucking dead lol.

maybe it's just because he's a far cry from my type of male character, but. yeah, don't get the fan favorite thing. don't get the petition with 75k signatures. don't get the ship (no issue with it yet though) when they barely had any scenes. it's definitely a case of them both being (arguably) attractive white men. cishet girls in particular will eat that shit right up.

the fact that ste/ddie shippers are now going around reporting ronance shippers and calling them names for giving them a taste of their own medicine and/or politely asking them to tag their fucking fics correctly is disgusting imo. it's giving lesbophobia. they seem to think their ship is more important, and therefore nobody else's tags and spaces matter. the way they behave, you'd think the average age of that fandom is 12. (and i wouldn't be surprised if it is, honestly.)

the only canon lgbt+ character is wlw. (i can't speak for will. i don't know if his sexuality has actually been definitely stated yet, and it hasn't in the show as far as i'm aware, so. vickie also isn't confirmed anything as far as i know.) and yet somehow mlm pairings with minimal scenes are heavily overshadowing any wlw content. (first it was billy/steve which. what the fuck, actually. now it's ste/ddie.) i don't know what the huge disparity is rooted in (lesbophobia, misogyny, mlm fetishization, all of the above) but it's fucking annoying and boring. broaden your horizons. get a grip. uggggghhh.

#ask #ronance #are there any other lgbt+ characters other than robyn?#like i said #haven't watched the show #so idk anything about minor/side characters #those are the only three i know of #and will is only (apparently) coded afaik #also no i dont know why i spelled robin that way

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sherifftillman · 1 year

Note

You knew this was coming, but cheerscooooooooops <3

LMAO i love that now between me, you and @roykentt we've all asked each other about cheerscoops. the trifecta is complete

when I started shipping it if I did: i distinctly remember someone bringing up that they come up as a pairing on ao3 in the server in the early days of me being there, bc that's when i was like "holy shit, cheerful golden retriever x clueless golden retriever, i love it" but i didn't really start shipping it properly until i started seeing more content back in october.

my thoughts: my sweet babies. i genuinely never shipped steve with anyone bc i didn't think he'd be compatible, even as a long-time rarepairer, i was always bummed that i couldn't find anyone to justify shipping with one of my most favourite characters came along. and then season 4 brought many a candidate, including chrissy who might just be my favourite person to ship with steve.

what makes me happy about them: god, literally everything. they just make sense. they'd make each other so happy. they'd create the family neither of them ever had.

what makes me sad about them: not just that they never got the chance to interact in canon, but if the rumours are true and steve was supposed to mention chrissy by name in s2, thereby acknowledging her as a figure in his life?? i will skin matt and ross duffer alive.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: the fact that more people haven't written it yet, lol.

things I look for in fanfic: again, literally just its existence. i'm surviving on crumbs here.

who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: my other Big Ship for steve is steddie, but i'm partial to a little stargyle every now and again, as a treat. i also ship chrissy with eddie, but otherwise, nancy, robin, vickie. i'm a little obsessed with the idea of photocheer (chrissy/jonathan) too, just the idea of total loner x social butterfly. makes me happy.

my happily ever after for them: i mean, to me, the road trip au is BASICALLY my canon for cheerscoops so i can't say too much about that, but i hope that they would support and fulfil each other to become the foundation of the whole found family.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: i love the idea of chrissy being the icicle gf to steve's heating pad bf, but i also love acey's idea that steve is the most fragile lil baby when he's sick.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: they love people-watching. they'll sit for hours on a park bench, watch people go by. chrissy describes what kind of lives each person/group live, steve puts on voices and impersonates their internal dialogues.

#ask game #cheerscoops #anna 💙

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hairstevington · 1 year

Text

i can't tune you out (part 2)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley x Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: Eddie and Steve do not like each other, but the fans still want them together. Eddie explores other options, Steve explores the dark side, and Robin experiences gay panic.

(part 1, link to Ao3)

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Rockstar!Eddie/Musician!Steve, modern day au, enemies to lovers, they are VERY in their enemies era, they are both assholes, BUT IT'S BUCKINGHAM TIME, codependent Stobin as usual.

A/N: I am having SO MUCH FUN writing this, and I can't wait for you to see some of the future scenes I've planned :) This chapter is a bit of set-up, but I'll get the next one out soon I promise!

“Great job, Eddie!” Carla said on the phone. “People are really talking now. And did you see your follower count? It’s -”

“I don’t want anything to do with that guy,” Eddie interrupted.

He’d made his decision. His life was comfortable, and he could find success some other way. Or, if he didn’t, he’d make peace with that, too. The idea of Eddie having to basically beg on his knees for attention from a total dickwad like Steve Harrington in hopes that it would boost his career filled him with a kind of rage and self-hatred that he thought he’d left back at Hawkins High.

There was no way. No fucking way.

“Y-you -” Carla stuttered in surprise. “Why not? What happened?”

“He’s an asshole is what happened,” Eddie huffed. “Look, I appreciate what you did, and I gave it a shot, and I’m saying no. We’re dropping it.”

She didn’t press any further. She knew better than that.

After the call ended, Eddie reflected on the previous night. Other than the Steve stuff, he actually really enjoyed himself. He thought about Chrissy, then got curious. He pulled out his phone to look her up, then realized that he didn’t know her last name.

Oh god.

Chrissy knew Steve, which meant they probably followed each other. Eddie was at least glad people weren’t notified when he looked them up on Instagram. He started with the HARVEST account.

Yup. The page was all kinds of weird.

HARVEST was following 0 people. Meanwhile, his follower count was in the millions. There were only a few posts, and none of them made a lot of sense. Maybe they were references to songs or something. Eddie wouldn’t know.

Eddie clicked on the followers and his eyes widened. A LOT of verified people were following him, even some that Eddie himself followed and would kill to interact with. He went to the search bar and typed - crissy - seeing a long line of potential women that would take Eddie a bit to get through. He sighed, then clicked off HARVEST’s profile and instead searched the name he hated to his core - Steve Harrington.

Oh joy. Steve’s profile still had more followers than Eddie. It was far more manageable though, and at least the posts were normal. Steve at the beach with Robin. Steve playing piano at a show. Steve raising his glass at a bar. Robin in the HARVEST getup.

Jesus. They really were close. Why weren’t people shipping them instead? Was it too obvious or something? He read some comments to double check. A few people assumed they were together, but most knew that Robin was a lesbian. That tracked.

He scrolled until the posts became less focused on Robin and more focused on another woman. And God, Steve was totally in love with her. The way he looked at her was far different than the way he looked at Robin. It was like this other woman - Nancy, it seemed like her name was - had been his entire world.

Huh. Apparently, it was heartbreak season for Stevie-boy.

Eddie scrolled back up to the top and clicked on the followers again, this time seeing the ratio between followers and following to be way more balanced. He typed in crissy again. One profile, not her. He tried chrissy next.

Bingo!

She was the first result, and her bright blonde hair in the profile picture confirmed it. Chrissy Cunningham. Actress, model. 23 years old.

Waaaaay too fucking famous and successful for Eddie to just reach out. The pictures on her profile were all from photoshoots and sponsorships. He followed her, obviously, immediately backpedaled to Steve’s profile, and then clicked on Robin’s out of curiosity.

Aww, she was cute. Much more approachable. She had even posted a photo from the previous night of her with Steve. It was a good photo. From a distance, Steve seemed like a chill guy.

But, Eddie knew better than that.

He closed out Instagram and did his best to forget about the whole thing.

“Steve.”

It started as a whisper.

“Steve.”

Still a whisper, now accompanied with a poke in the shoulder.

“Steeeeeve.”

Okay, he was being shaken now. Steve stirred with a groan.

“What.”

“I need you to wake up.”

“I’m awake,” Steve said. His eyes were still closed, and he had an urge to pull the covers over his head. “But I feel like shit.”

“Yeah, you feel like shit,” Robin replied. “I think you drank more of those cocktails than anyone else at the bar. Congratulations.”

Steve exhaled sharply from his nose. Almost a laugh, but not quite.

“Why’re you waking me up, Robs?” He was too nauseous to turn around and face her, and he was also pretty sure her reason for waking him up was going to be something stupid. When he was less hungover, he humored her, but this particular morning he mostly just wanted to throw up.

“Chrissy Cunningham liked my post.”

Steve almost opened his eyes for that one.

“Oh, shit.”

It was no secret that Robin had been in love with Chrissy from afar for a while now. When Steve and Chrissy first became acquaintances, Robin had begged him to introduce her. Unfortunately, Steve and Chrissy weren’t close enough to hang out, and were doomed to only run into each other at parties and events. Last night the girls met for the first time, technically, even though they’d said nothing other than introductions.

“Oh my god,” Robin said. “She commented.”

Steve’s eyes snapped open. Now he was invested.

“What did she say??”

“She said - holy shit, she - oh my GOD Steve! What the fuck!”

This was big for Robin. Steve knew this was big. He risked the flip of his stomach to roll over and take her phone so he could look at the comment with his own eyes.

chrissycunningham: yessss this jumpsuit! I love!!😍

“Oh, wow,” Steve said, impressed. “Damn, Robs. Chrissy got one look at you and fell in love.”

“She loves the jumpsuit, Steve,” Robin insisted.

“Yeah, sure. The jumpsuit,” Steve dismissed with a smirk.

“Don’t you dare do this to me,” Robin warned. “Do we even know if she likes girls? She literally ran off with Jason Carver last night.”

“So?” Steve mumbled. A notification popped up on Robin’s phone that made him chuckle. “All I’m saying is, you’re hot, she’s hot, and she just followed you, so I wouldn’t rule out her being interested.”

“Shut up,” Robin said. Steve grinned and handed the phone back to her. She looked at it, stunned. “Shut up. Shut up! What? No way. What? Holy shit!”

“Robin, please,” Steve whined. “My head. It hurts.”

“FUCK YOUR HEAD, CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM JUST FOLLOWED ME!”

It took a while for Robin to calm down. He told her to reply to the comment, then listened as she rattled off possible responses from the kitchen, where she was assembling something like breakfast for their hangovers. She returned with toast, water, and aspirin for the both of them.

“Thanks,” Steve said as he grabbed one of the plates. She got back under the covers and joined him in eating, still contemplating the whole Chrissy situation.

Steve and Robin didn’t share a bed all the time when she stayed over, but recently she chose it over the couch because she found out Steve had sex with Nancy on that couch, and it grossed her out. Steve tried to explain that he and Nancy had also had sex in the bed, but Robin said it was different because of the sheets. Fair enough. It was a King size bed (obviously, fit for the King himself), so there was plenty of room.

Steve was still kind of pissed that Nancy had told her about the couch thing, though. He knew that girls talked, and Robin and Nancy had gotten pretty close over the years, but still. At least Steve won Robin in the breakup (not that there was ever any doubt in his mind).

Robin responded with something simple. Chrissy liked the response. There was more squealing.

God, help him.

Here was the thing about Eddie Munson. He was always at a 10.

Whether he was angry or annoyed or happy or enthusiastic or whatever, he felt it at max capacity. He didn’t really know how to let things go, either - try as he might. Actually, he didn’t try that hard. He still held a grudge with his fifth grade teacher because she refused to give him credit for a drawing he did of his family.

He drew a bunch of random shit. Dragons. Princesses. A talking dog. She told him he didn’t do the assignment, but what the hell was he supposed to draw? His dad behind bars?

Anyway, he never forgave Miss Kendall for that. And he never would.

Yeah, Eddie was dramatic. Obviously. But it’s what made him so captivating, and what had gotten him all the things he loved. He wasn’t evil, he was just passionate. When he loved something, he loved it with his entire soul.

Same for when he hated something. Couldn’t help it. Even if he wanted to let it go, he couldn’t. The rage fueled him. It fueled his work. His music. His career. His everything. Without anger, without that passion, without something to hate, he couldn’t do what he loved.

So, no. He couldn’t just stop thinking about stupid Steve Harrington. Even though the whole thing was stupid and Eddie didn’t need it. He didn’t. He didn’t, okay?!

Fuck.

Unlike Steve, Robin, and Eddie, Chrissy Cunningham had stayed out all night. She danced with Jason for a while, made her rounds at the bar, then at 2am when last call hit, Jason approached her again. She enjoyed his company enough to leave with him, but not enough to accept his invitation to stay overnight.

Well, technically they did spend the night together, considering they roamed the city for a while and then got to his apartment at 4am. Then, the sun was rising, and he was telling her to stay, and she said she lied and said she had a photoshoot to get to.

This happened kind of often with men.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like these guys, she just had no interest in dating them. She’d always been that way. She’d dated a few guys before, but something about it just felt off. Like, she even believed she loved one of them, but she couldn’t imagine a future with him. So, she figured maybe she just wasn’t meant for relationships, and she’d accepted that. She didn’t mind, actually, because her favorite part of all of it was the beginning.

The attraction. The chase. The build-up. The desire and eventual release. Everything that came after that she was just not into as much.

She got home, took a shower, crawled into her own bed, and scrolled Instagram. Sometimes, it was hard for her to see all the pictures of her fellow models, because she couldn’t help but compare her own body to theirs. She almost closed the app, but then for whatever reason she started thinking about Eddie, and she wondered if her matchmaking helped the guy out in any way.

But, she just knew the first name. Eddie. And he was a musician, apparently. Not much to go off on, there.

Out of curiosity, she went to Steve’s profile, then searched his photos and his tagged photos in case there were any of him and Eddie.

Nope. But there WAS one of Steve and Robin. Aww.

She would have been at a dead end, but then she got a notification that Eddie followed her, soooo....that made things a whole lot easier.

Now, she knew Eddie's last name - Munson, of Corroded Coffin fame. Once she figured that out, she realized she had read something on Twitter about him and Steve being together. Hmm.

She wasn’t sure why any of this was appealing to her, she just needed something to occupy her mind until she fell asleep.

Her eyes were heavy and she was nearly delirious from staying up all night. That's probably why she did one final thing before passing out.

Chrissy sent you a message: soooo what’s going on with you and Steve?? 👀

Uhhh. What the fuck?

Never in a million years did Eddie think Chrissy would give him the time of day ever again. Their interaction the night before had been circumstantial, and he figured she’d forget about him the moment she was whisked away by the hot blonde.

He stared at the message for quite some time, unsure how to respond. “Absolutely nothing” was the first potential response that came to mind. It was the honest truth, but a boring one. Eddie hated Steve, but he liked Chrissy, and maybe befriending her could boost his career in the same way befriending Steve would. It was worth a shot, right?

Okay, so now he had to be strategic. He thought about it for most of the day before getting back to her.

Eddie: Kind of a long story. Next party I’ll tell you all about it 🙂

Now, Eddie just hoped Chrissy would take the bait. He waited another hour or so, then checked his phone immediately when she responded.

Chrissy: Why wait? I’m nosy and I could use a drink.

Oh HELL yeah. Things were about to get very, very interesting.

He agreed to the time and place, then got ready and brainstormed what he would tell Chrissy, if anything. If she wanted gossip, he sure had it, but he wasn’t certain he should be sharing everything. He was going to hold his cards to his chest and keep things vague, for now.

In 24 hours, he’d gone from low-level fame to mid-level fame and was grabbing a drink with a high-level fame model.

Take that, Harrington.

“What the hell?” Steve shouted to Robin once he saw the Instagram story. “She’s out with Eddie tonight. Like, at a bar.”

“Chrissy?” Robin asked with wide eyes.

She hadn’t left Steve’s apartment yet. They’d taken the entire day off to groan about their hangovers and micro-analyze every interaction Robin and Chrissy had thus far.

“No, the other chick we’ve been talking about all day,” Steve replied.

“Okay, what did we say about referring to women as ‘chicks,’ Steve?” Robin reminded him, pulling out her phone.

She jumped to Instagram to see what Steve was referring to. In the boomerang, Chrissy was clinking glasses with a man whose face was cut off. Even though it was obviously Eddie, Chrissy tagged him - as if the long brown hair and ringed hands could belong to anyone else.

“Do you think that they’re, like -?” Steve asked. “You know?”

“What? No!” Robin shouted back instantly. “I mean - no! Like, because she - I mean, I’m pretty sure Eddie’s gay, right?”

“Is he?” Steve asked, nonplussed. There had been a rumor back in high school, but Steve never cared too much about people’s sexualities.

“Steve, come on. This is juicy information,” Robin insisted.

“I dunno if it is,” he replied with a shrug.

“You seriously don’t care at all?” Robin wondered, dubiously.

“What are you implying? After last night, I mean -”

“Yeah, but I know you,” Robin dismissed. “You’re the one who pointed Chrissy’s story out in the first place.”

“Because you’re into her, Robin!” Steve shouted. “It has nothing to do with Eddie. Nothing, I swear. It’s just -” He sighed, heavy, pondering whether or not he should just come out and say it. It was only Robin, after all. “Fine, okay. It’s a Nancy thing.”

“Ah,” Robin said with a nod. “I had a feeling.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did!” she insisted. “Anyway, you’re upset about Nancy moving on. That’s totally normal.”

“Yeah, and I -” God, why is this so hard? “I just want - I want to -”

“You want her to feel the way you’re feeling, so you’re thinking about capitalizing on the Eddie thing even though you don’t like him because then at least you can pretend you’re in a perfect relationship that other people love and you can drive your ex crazy.”

Oh. Oh, wow. Yeah, he should just tell Robin things more often.

“Am I…am I a bad person?” Steve asked. After hearing it out loud, it kind of sounded really horrible.

“No,” Robin answered. “I mean, it’s not great, but I think a lot of people have those thoughts.”

“But do they act on them?” Steve wondered.

“Um.” Robin cocked her head in confusion. “You’re actually thinking about doing this, Harrington?” He shrugged.

“I don’t know, maybe,” he answered truthfully. “It’s not just Nancy. My album - I mean, for whatever reason, people are going crazy over Eddie and I, and I really want this album to succeed, Robs.”

“I get that,” Robin said empathetically. “Especially about your career. I know how much this album means to you.”

“But?”

“But,” she continued. “Look, I’m team Steve forever and always, but Nance was my friend too at one point. And I just - I mean, she’s allowed to date Jonathan and be happy, just like you.”

Ah, there it was. That was the difference. Nancy was happy.

Steve knew Robin had a point. He didn’t want to be the jealous ex boyfriend. He didn’t want to feel anything for Nancy at all, but he did. Maybe he needed to just start dating someone else again. The problem was, he didn’t have a lot of time to build actual relationships. He was always super busy, and it tended not to mesh well with anything other than hook-ups. Steve was kind of done with the whole hook-up thing.

If Eddie and Steve had gotten along at all, this would have been a no brainer. Why not fake date the hot musician, right? But they didn’t get along, so now Steve had to like…think. And he had to consider other people’s feelings. And he had to pay attention to things people said about him online. He had to be a good person. He had to do the right thing.

Or….

“Robin, how down would you be to do something a little crazy?” he asked.

“What are you thinking?”

“The bar they’re at is down the road. Wanna go?”

Look, nobody’s perfect.

(part 3)

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Check out my Masterlist for other content!

#steddie #steve and eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfictin #st fanfic #steddie fic #eddie munson x steve harrington #modern day au #i can't tune you out #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #robin buckley x chrissy cunningham #writing

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beansthebylershipper · 1 year

Text

Stranger things teens ship analysis

disclaimer: I can’t write about all the stranger things ships in one post, so I have another post about stranger things kids ships (Byler, Lumax, etc.), and am also planning to make one about the adults.

Jancy: Jancy was really cute up until season 4. Then their relationship became kinda toxic. But in all the other seasons I definitely shipped them, and I’m pretty confident that they are an endgame ship. Rating: 6.5/10

Stancy: I’ve never shipped Stancy, and I don’t think that the duffers want us to either. They were clearly just used as a prop to get Jancy going, and they were quite a toxic relationship. Steve and Nancy are better off with other people, and I hope that Steve will realize that like Nancy did. Rating: 0/10

Ronance: The idea of Ronance is cute and I ship it about as much as I ship Jancy, but I don’t see it becoming canon because Robin and Vickie both canonically like eachother, but who knows, I wouldn’t mind much if I were wrong 🤷. Rating: 6/10

Jargyle: Jargyle is awesome, and I love it. I ship it about as much romantically as I do platonically, and you guys are really out here doing gods work with the fanwork. I don’t see it becoming canon because it’s pretty clear that they are just besties, but I’d love it if it was. Rating: 7/10

Stonathan: to be honest I don’t see the chemistry at all with this one, but the idea of the ship is cute. And I mean, Steve was pretty chill with the fact that Jonathan literally slept with his girlfriend in season 2. Rating:4/10

Steddie: I liked Steddie at first, but Steddie fans have kinda ruined it for me. A lot of them are either Eddie stans/simps, or fujoshis, both of which are a red flag. The ship it’s self is really cute, but some of the fans are problematic and we all know that if one of them wasn’t white there wouldn’t be nearly as many fans, I mean look at them compared to jargyle, both are healthy ships, but only one has a large amount of creepy fans, and yet that one has WAY more shippers. I think that that’s a little suspicious. (Also I’m aware that there are plenty of normal Steddie shippers out there, I just think that there are more problematic ones than there should be.) Rating: 4/10

Stobin: NO. NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. ROBIN IS A LESBIAN. IF YOU SHIP STOBIN ROMANTICALLY, GET OFF MY ACCOUNT. Rating: -100000/10

Rockie: (is that the ship name for Robin and Vickie?) I don’t have that much of an opinion on this ship, but it’s pretty cute I guess. My only problem with it is that I wish that they had given Vickie more screen time or introduced her earlier in the series because it’s hard to me to care about a ship when I hardly know anything about one of the characters. I feel like that was kinda bad writing on the duffers part, but that’s my only problem with it, other than that it’s fine. Rating: 6/10

Buckingham: The fanwork for this ship is everything, but they literally have zero moments together. I get why people ship it though because the dynamic would be cute. Rating: 5/10

Chrissy x Jason: (what is the ship name for this????) Jason really cared about Chrissy, but they barely got any time together on the show, plus Chrissy was giving me lesbian vibes so- Rating: 3/10

Harringrove: Billy was definitely a simp for Steve, but Billy was rasist, abusive, and just a terrible person in general and Steve deserves a lot better. Rating: -100/10

Barb x Nancy: where is the hype for this ship?? It’s so cute! Barb wasn’t alive for very long so I don’t have that much to say on the ship, but i definitely shipped them while she was alive. Rating 7.5/10

Hellcheer : I didn’t see any chemistry for this tbh. They interacted once, when Chrissy tried to buy drugs from Eddie and then got vecnaed. I just dont see where people are getting a romantic relationship from, I guess. Rating 3/10

Part one ⬇️

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keerysquinn · 10 months

Note

Do you have any advice for newer Stranger Things blogs just starting out? I just recently started a blog and I want to utilize it but I'm really new to Tumblr so I don't know what to post or how to promo it. Especially because my blog is centered around a specific ship. I'm in the process of writing stuff on AO3 but I haven't posted anything yet so I don't have any fics to post about until then.

I love your blog so I figured maybe I would ask you, but it's totally fine if you don't really have an answer. I just don't know who to ask or how to look for the answer if it's already out there somewhere.

First off, I just want to thank you for loving and supporting my blog. I feel like I'm a relatively small presence in the community, so I'm flattered that you chose to come to me with your questions.

As for how to start out, I'm not sure if there actually is one correct way to do it. I had no idea what I was doing when I first started this blog last summer, and a lot of the time, I feel like I just got lucky. The first fic I ever posted only got 30 notes because it never showed up in the tags, and I'd maybe throw myself a party if my current series ever got that many notes since cheerscoops is such a niche ship. But here are a few tips I have that I wish I'd known when I started out. I'll use cheerscoops as an example throughout this since you said your blog is for a specific ship, and then you can just replace my ship with yours when making your own posts.

When it comes to tagging and promoting, make sure you have the correct ship name in your tags. If you're not using the most common name for your ship, people might not see your fics and other creations because they're not looking in the right spots. Cheerscoops is a weird one where people can't seem to decide on one specific ship name so I tend to tag things with cheerscoops, harringham, steve x chrissy, and chrissy x steve just so it reaches more people. Occasionally, I'll also throw in a tag like stranger things fic or stranger things fanfic to reach a broader audience. My most successful fic didn't have a ship in it and was just an exploration of the bond between Eddie and Wayne, and I used character tags like eddie munson fic and wayne munson fic for that one. Tagging specific characters is a good way to reach anyone who is looking for any fics involving that character.

However, it's really important to only tag the characters who are the main focus of the fic if you do this. If your fic is about Steve and Chrissy, but Dustin, Will, and Robin appear as secondary characters, only use Steve and Chrissy's tags. No one goes into the will byers fic tag looking for a cheerscoops fic, so if the character you're tagging isn't the focus, you run the risk of upsetting people by putting irrelevant stuff in their tag. It's just common courtesy to not spam the tags with things that don't apply to them.

If you want to attempt to build up an audience before you post anything, I recommend finding other people who ship the same things as you and interacting with their work. If you read something and enjoy it, reblog it and let the author know! We thrive on interaction with our fics and moodboards and other creations, and a reblog is the only way to let other people know what you're interested in. I feel like I gained the majority of my followers because I also ship hellcheer and steddie, and I was reading and reblogging a lot of steve x reader and eddie x reader fics when I first started out. If people know they can find things that they like on your blog, they're going to be more willing to follow you.

If it's something you're comfortable with, post sneak peeks of your writing on your blog. Get people excited for your fics by posting small snippets of what's to come as early promos. I participate in a lot of WIP Wednesday type tag games and challenges to get me writing more and to get my friends and followers excited about the things I'm creating.

Basic housekeeping stuff for your blog would be making sure your blog isn't blank!! Most people will automatically block you if you don't have an icon, a header image, or a bio because blank blogs are treated as bots. Make it obvious that you're a real person. I also recommend putting your age in your bio - or an age range if you're not comfortable sharing your actual age.

This one isn't necessary, but my bestie @quinnkeerys runs a discord server for Stranger Things rarepairs. If you think the ship you're making your blog for qualifies as a rarepair and adheres to the few ship rules the server has, I highly recommend contacting them about joining! We're a really small group, and we all multi-ship and share headcanons there. It's a super welcoming and supportive environment, and I feel like making friends in the community and supporting other creators is so helpful when you're first starting out.

I hope this helps! If you have any more questions, feel free to reach out again! I'm always happy to help <3

#ask box #anon #advice

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schrijverr · 7 months

Text

I Found Myself a Cheerleader 23

Chapter 23 out of 28

In this chapter, Eddie patches Steve up as they all recover from what has just happened, before they need to make a plan. Vecna is still out there, Eddie is still wanted, Chrissy and Max are still cursed.

On AO3.

Ships: steddie & buckingham

Warnings: general season 4 shenanigans, injury, talks about death

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Chapter 23: The Morning After Escape

With everyone safely out of the Upside Down, Steve wants to get as far away from that portal as possible. He will never forget the feeling of the tendril around his leg or how it yanked him through as he was helpless to stop it.

However, they’re also a group of nine and one of them is wanted for murder and four just escaped the police. So, he settles for moving to Max’s trailer before the sun will start to come up, knowing her mother isn’t home.

Most are still focused on Nancy, but his three friends keep an eye on him as he assures them all he’s fine, despite how his sides burn.

Since Nancy is too shaken up right now, Steve slips into her role as leader. With hands on his hips he tells the group: “We need sleep right now. I’m taking first watch, everyone else get rest. We’re going to need it. Let’s regroup in the morning.”

Fortunately, the past 24 hours have been eventful enough that no one protests or tries to fight him on it. Instead, they all find a place to get comfortable and collapse.

Robin is the only one, who hesitates for a moment. She points to him and frowns: “Are you going to clean those wounds? You know I don’t do well with blood or I’d tie you down, so you better do it yourself or some shit. Because blood poisoning is a real thing and once it starts, the only way out is to cut off a limb before it hits your organs.”

“Positive as always, Robbie,” he rolls his eyes, but he knows she’s right, even if he isn’t looking forwards to it.

“Just promise me, Steve.” The fact that she uses his name, shows how serious she is about it and Steve feels his hackles soften.

He gives her an encouraging smile and nods: “Promise.”

“Good,” she nods decisively, before also finding a spot.

Steve follows her with his eyes, getting the bajesus scared out of him when there’s a sudden hand on his shoulder. He practically jumps in the air and is only soothed by Eddie saying: “Calm down, sweetheart, calm down. It’s just me.”

“Fucking hell, man, don’t scare me like that,” Steve exclaims, clutching his heart as the rate finally goes down again.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, looking genuinely apologetic. “I just wanted to offer some help. I’m somewhat of a nurse myself.”

“You are?” Steve asks, sounding a little surprised.

“Don’t look so shocked, Stevie,” Eddie grins. “We don’t have healthcare, if I had to go to the hospital for every bump and scrape, we’d be bankrupt. Same goes for uncle Wayne. Now come on and let me patch you up.”

Steve doesn’t know what to respond to that, so he lets Eddie pull him along to the bathroom and direct him to sit down on the closed toilet.

Now that he’s sitting, he can feel the utter exhaustion that is wrapping around his bones, making them feel heavy. So, he just sits and watches Eddie rummage through the Mayfield cupboards until he pulls out a first aid kit triumphantly.

“Alright, Stevie, I’m going to need you to strip,” he grins that wide dimpled grin and Steve can feel his brain exploding a little at the words.

He doesn’t know what his face does, but it must be embarrassing with how hot his cheeks fill and how Eddie bursts out laughing. Eddie says: “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not going to take your virtue from you.”

Steve quells down all the disappointed feelings that bubble up in his chest, because he wants Eddie to take his virtue from him, but here Eddie is again, reminding him that even though he could be, he’s not interested in Steve. Which is fine. Totally fine.

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes playfully instead, before he shrugs off Eddie’s vest, sad to have to part with it, though he can’t think about that for too long. At the movement pain shoots through him and he hisses.

Eddie pulls a sympathetic face as he takes the vest and softly coos: “It’s okay, just let it out.”

“I can’t,” Steve lets him know through gritted teeth, trying to keep the noises of hurt behind closed teeth as he comes down from the movement.

“Why not?” Eddie frowns.

“Don’t need the wake anyone up with the sound of me screaming,” Steve tells him. “You can imagine how – seeing the circumstances – that wouldn’t be pleasant for anyone.”

“Ah, yeah, no, yeah, you’re right,” Eddie nods, before rubbing the back of his head. He looks around and says: “I don’t know how you’re going to be quiet though. Disinfecting those wounds is going to hurt like a bitch.”

And Steve hadn’t thought of that, but he knows he’s not going to let any of the kids hear him in pain or worry Robin more than she already is. So he looks around, before plucking the handkerchief out of Eddie’s pocket and holding it up: “Not the most clean, but it’ll do.”

“Wha- What are you doing?” Eddie squeaks and Steve can’t figure out why he looks kind of panicked and flushed.

“I, uhm- I was going to bite down on it so I don’t scream,” he offers. “Sorry, is it sentimental or something?” he asks as he holds it up so Eddie can take it back.

“No, no, no, it’s fine. Very fine. Just, uh- just startled me for a second,” Eddie says with a very unconvincing grin.

Steve is willing to ignore it though, too tired to try and figure out why Eddie is acting weird. So, he just folds the handkerchief to be able to bite down better on it. It’s not the most sanitary thing ever, but right now, Steve is beyond caring.

Eddie meanwhile has been getting stuff ready to patch Steve up. Once he’s done, he seems back to normal again. Without much preamble, he gets on his knees in front of Steve and asks: “Are you ready?”

Steve has about a hundred filthy thoughts running through his mind and a dozen crises, but he ignores them all and distracts himself by nodding as he quickly stuffs the handkerchief in his mouth.

“Okay, tap me if you need to stop, I’m serious, Stevie,” Eddie tells him, looking intently into his eyes.

Steve swallows thickly, drowning in their intensity, but managing a nod that has a smile breaking out on Eddie’s face again. His heart flips and he wonders how he’s going to make it through this in one piece.

All thoughts fly out of his mind when Eddie starts unraveling the makeshift bandages. The dried blood has stuck them to him and it hurts, especially at the parts where Eddie has to rip them off of him.

If it weren’t for the handkerchief, Steve would've broken a tooth, he’s sure of it. Tears spring to his eyes and his fists clench, leaving moon-crescent indents on his palms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Eddie keeps whispering softly and it sounds like it hurts him to do this as well.

Some of the wounds have started bleeding again and Eddie makes a displeased face as he grabs a towel to press against them as he tries to open the disinfectant with his other hand.

After a few seconds of watching Eddie struggle with it, Steve holds out his hand and Eddie blushes a bit as he hands it out. He says: “I have to keep pressure on it. Don’t want you to bleed out. Though it luckily isn’t bleeding that bad.”

Silver linings, Steve thinks as he uncaps the disinfectant and gives it back to Eddie.

Eddie pours it out over some toilet paper, commenting: “Like something else would be better, but we have what we have. Now hang on, sweetheart, this is going to sting.”

That’s all the warning Steve gets, before the pressure is removed from his side and a burning sensation radiates as Eddie cleans them. He’s unable to be completely quiet, small hurt noises still making it past the handkerchief in a way that would be embarrassing if there was room for anything beyond the pain.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, I got you, just ride it out. I’m here. You’re okay, sweetheart, you doing good. Hang in there a little more. Almost done, baby. Almost done,” Eddie keeps up a stream of reassurances that surely will make a return in Steve’s daydreams once his body stops feeling like it’s bursting at the seams.

“The Mayfields don’t have anything for stitches, so you’re lucking out and we’re using medical tape,” Eddie tells him and he’s glad Eddie is keeping him in the loop and not surprising him, even if he’s too out of it to respond.

“I’m just gonna go on and get it over with. Tap me if you need a breather,” Eddie reminds him, waiting until Steve nods, before taking the open skin and trying to tape the two side back together again, like there aren’t chunks missing.

“Holy shit, dude, how did you not kneel over,” Eddie says, partially to himself as he gets to a particularly nasty one.

Steve knows he doesn’t expect a response, so he just focuses on staying conscious and hopes Eddie will start comforting him again. His voice is a lifeline throughout all this and he needs it if he wants to make it through.

As if he can read his mind, Eddie starts murmuring praises and soothing him again. Softly cooing about how well Steve is doing and how close to done they are.

Swiftly Eddie moves between taping him back together to taping the gauze over, before wrapping actual bandages around Steve’s torso. To do the last part, he has to lean in close. Steve is almost glad that the pain has wiped him out, so he doesn’t do something embarrassing like pop a boner right in Eddie’s face.

“Tadaa, all done,” Eddie exclaims with a pleased grin after he’s tied off the bandage, leaning back on his knees as he takes in his handy work.

Steve is sure that if they stay in this position for too long, he might do something to fuck up their friendship. So, he spits out the handkerchief and clears his throat, before tightly smiling: “Ah, thanks, man. I- I should go actually hold watch now. But thanks, really.”

Eddie raises brow at him and Steve feels himself shrink under his gaze. He feels exhausted and wrung out. He’s hurt and he doesn’t want to deal with the wilting feeling in his chest right now, thank you very much.

“You, mister,” Eddie starts, “are going to sleep. You need the rest, man. I can hold watch and I’ll wake you when I get tired.”

With the offer on the table, Steve must admit he is very tempted. But he hasn’t had a nightmare yet and he isn’t willing to break his streak. Stubbornly he shakes his head and says: “I can do it,” an argument that is undermined with a yawn.

“Sure, you can,” Eddie smiles, before patting his thigh a little condescendingly, “but you’re not going to.” With that he gets up, knees cracking, then stops. He frowns and exclaims: “Dude, your back is all fucked up, why didn’t you say?”

“Oh,” Steve says, blinking heavily. “I uh- I kind of forgot about it.”

“How did that even happen?” Eddie asks as he leans in to inspect the wounds.

“I got dragged over the ground,” Steve admits.

Eddie hisses in sympathy. “That’s some nasty road rash. Not too deep though, which is good, but it still need to be cleaned up. Gimme the disinfectant and toilet roll.”

Deciding it’s useless to argue, Steve hands the requested items over without much preamble, only really regretting it when Eddie stands between his legs and guides his head to lean against his stomach, so Eddie can reach his back.

He’s aware of how warm Eddie is and without the handkerchief, he has to bite down on Eddie’s shirt to stay quiet. Tears roll down his face at the sting and he clutches Eddie’s belt to stay grounded.

“Now we’re all done,” Eddie announces, staying close and carding a hand through Steve’s hair again, like he’d done that night Steve threw up after a nightmare.

The act is so comforting and Steve can’t help but melt into it. Everything is catching up with him and he’s already drifting off. He knows he should fight to stay awake, but it’s too hard.

“I got you,” Eddie whispers, before pulling away, luckily not commenting on the pathetic whine Steve lets out.

He supports Steve until he can put him down on a chair. Eddie has brought the vest with him and he gently lays it over Steve as he blanket. Softly, he says: “Just rest, sweetheart.”

“Nuh, have to-” Steve yawns. “Have to stay awake.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll watch over you,” Eddie promises and it’s the last thing Steve remembers before he fades into sleep.

He wakes with a start, heart pounding and sweat cooling on his skin. His breathing is heavy, but he hasn’t screamed and he doesn’t feel the need to throw up. All of which are wins in his books as he scans the room.

Everyone is still asleep, music faintly comes from Chrissy’s and Max’s headphones. The only person, who’s awake is Dustin, who has gotten watch after Eddie apparently. Since the man himself is curled up and fast asleep on the ground next to Steve.

He lets his gaze rest on Eddie’s face for a second, taking in the smoothed out forehead and the peaceful expression that hasn’t been there this past week. Despite wanting to really badly, Steve fights off the urge to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Eddie’s ear and instead gets up to sit down next to Dustin.

“You okay, man?” he asks after a second, nudging Dustin.

“Yeah,” Dustin answers. “Well, no, but considering, yeah. It’s just never dragged out this long and the stakes seem much higher, you know? Max could die. You guys could have died. It really sucked when we got taken and we didn’t know what was happening to you out there.”

The twilight makes it easier to admit, Steve knows, both their faces obscured by the darkness. It also makes it easier for him to wrap an arm around Dustin and pull him to his side. These kids are truly just that. Kids. Hell, even the adults here are kids. Steve doesn’t feel equipped to handle this, he can’t imagine anyone else does either.

Hopper was the only one, who ever seemed in control and Joyce, but neither of them are here right now. Steve is. Eddie might be the eldest, but Steve comes right after and he is the most experienced next to Nancy. He had already realized he would have to step up after Hopper died – something that still sends a twinge through him – but this moment makes it more real.

Dustin is so confident, but he feels small under Steve’s arm. Steve takes a deep breath, then he says: “We’re gonna be okay. Maybe not tomorrow or the day after that, but we’ll make it through. We always do.”

“Maybe,” Dustin replies, not sounding very confident as he huddles closer under Steve’s arm. “But making it through involved loosing Hopper last time. Who are we going to loose now? Max? Eddie? Chrissy?”

“No one if I have anything to say about it,” Steve promises, already knowing he would do anything to keep them alive.

“But you can’t guarantee it,” Dustin says, not to be mean, but because he is scared and upset, and he always pokes holes in everything.

Steve doesn’t blame him for it, but he also hates that he is right. Steve can’t guarantee that they will all make it out. Can’t promise that Eddie, who is now peacefully sleeping will ever get older. Can’t promise that Max, who is now tucked onto a couch next to Lucas won’t be lying next to Billy in a few days. Can’t promise Chrissy, who is being used as a pillow by Robin won’t know what it is like to have all her bones snap.

He just can’t, but he wants to. He wants to be able to ensure that nothing will happen to them. But Dustin is right, as he so often is.

“You’re right,” Steve sighs, because he doesn’t know what else to say. “I can’t guarantee jack shit, but I can promise you that I will try my best. We’re all are going to have to try our best, like we always do. Nothing more to do.”

“I guess not,” Dustin agrees, sounding defeated, which Steve hates.

“Hey, no long face,” he says, nudging Dustin again. “We’re too epic and soon, this will be something we can joke about. You can probably even do science.”

That gets a huffed laugh out of Dustin and Steve can’t help but feel a little victorious about it as Dustin says: “Yeah, probably.”

It’s quiet for a second, then Steve softly says: “Try to sleep a little more. I’ll hold watch.”

“Eddie said not to let you, that you were hurt,” Dustin replies, sounding worried.

And Steve doesn’t know if he feels touched or annoyed that Eddie said that, since he has always tried to keep it from the kids how hurt he is. Steve smiles at Dustin deciding to be a little touched as he says: “Eddie is exaggerating. I feel fine. Don’t worry about me, I haven’t been brought down yet.”

“You sure?” Dustin asks.

“I’m sure,” Steve promises.

“Okay,” Dustin doesn’t sound completely convinced, but makes himself comfortable against Steve anyway, quickly dropping off, exhaustion catching up with him.

So Steve sits there alone in the dark room and keeps watch as he mulls over Dustin’s words. He has never been the planner, but he needs to ensure that the others will be safe. Yet he can’t be everywhere at once.

God, how is he ever going to make sure they’re all making it out? He doesn’t care if he lives or dies, but he can’t rob the others of their future when they’re all so bright and have so much to accomplish and experience.

Worries crawl up his spine and he feels like it is going to swallow him whole. The only thing that keeps him grounded is the rhythmic checking up on everyone, Dustin’s warmth against his side and the soft sound of music and breathing.

Slowly everyone wakes up and gets woken, so they can reconvene in the kitchen to regroup to hear about Nancy’s vision and to make a plan.

What Nancy tells them is horrifying, a dark future that looms over them should they fail. Steve can’t imagine what Hawkins would look like when split open, the Upside Down bleeding into their lives in a way they can’t walk away from. Not only that, but Chrissy and Max would have to be dead for that reality to come to pass.

“We need to call the Byers, see if they have ideas, if El knows anything,” he hears himself say and he knows he has a point, but he knows that deep down inside he hopes Joyce will come take this burden of his shoulders, even if he can’t ask that of her after everything.

But he can’t take it back now, so they dial the number over and over again, getting nothing but a busy line that makes Steve worry more than he is willing to admit, despite the fact they have no time for extra stressors.

Dustin tries to convince them that it must be that Joyce is busy for work with the phone, but Max, like Steve, isn’t convinced. This can’t be coincidence.

“She’s right,” Nancy agrees too. “It can’t be coincidence. It can’t be. Whatever is happening in Lenora is connected to all of this. I’m sure of it. But Vecna can’t hurt them. Not if he’s dead. We have to get back in there. Back to the Upside Down.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no no no,” Steve quickly says. He is all for Vecna not hurting anyone, but going back into that hell dimension is just begging to get someone hurt. He can’t let them, he’s putting his foot down.

“Nope,” Eddie is also saying, which Steve appreciates.

However, he knows how stubborn Nancy can get, so he tries to calm her down by saying: “Let’s think this through, okay?”

“What is there to think through?” Nancy exclaims, obviously upset.

“We barely made it out of there in one piece,” Steve replies, because isn’t it obvious? The Upside Down is dangerous.

“Yeah, because we weren’t prepared,” Nancy counters, not willing to back down either. “But this time we will. We’ll get weapons and protection. We’ll go through the gate, we’ll find his lair, and we’ll kill him,” she lists as if it will be that easy.

“Or he’ll kill us,” Steve argues. “The only reason you survived is because he wanted you to. He’s not scared of us.” He gestures to the group around them, all ragtag nerdy kids and teens barely touching adulthood.

Robin gets up from the floor to back him up and he is so grateful for that, because they were beginning to sound like his parents back when they bothered to come home. Steve never wants to feel like his father.

“And for good reason,” she says. “We were wrong about Vecna. Henry. One. Sorry, what are we calling him now?”

Different answers are given and Steve wants to rip his hair out, because that is so not the point right now. He loves Robin, but this is not the most important thing to focus on.

Luckily Robin manages to move on from it and ramble on: “Right. We’ve learned something about Vecna/Henry/One. He’s a number, like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin. But- but- but my point is, he’s super powerful. He could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It’s not a fair fight.”

Steve can totally find himself in Robin’s words. It’s not a fair fight and they shouldn’t have to fight it. And he can see that Robin sends Nancy back to thinking again.

“Then why fight fair?” Dustin suddenly speaks up. “You’re right, he’s like Eleven. But that gives us an upper hand. We know Eleven’s strengths. And weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses?” Erica asks judgmentally and Steve has to agree with her. El is pretty over powered and strong.

But of course Dustin has an answer. “When El remote-travels, she goes into this trance like state. I bet the same is true for Vecna.”

“That would explain what he was doing in that attic,” Lucas says, always the fastest in picking up what Dustin is putting down, like nerd on nerd communication.

“Exactly,” Dustin replies excited. “When he attacks his next victim, I’ll bet you he’s back in that attic, physical body defenseless.”

And in that moment, Steve knows he will be loosing this fight and that they’re going back in there, but he still has to try. So he snaps: “Defenseless? What about the army of bats?” as he points to his neck, not yet wanting to pull attention to how chewed he is, in the hope Dustin’s worry from earlier will make him reconsider.

However, no such luck. He only nods, deep in thought before saying: “Right. True. We’ll have to find a way through them. Distract them somehow.”

“And, uh, how do we do that?” Eddie asks, as he starts to get up, only to sit right back down when Dustin tells him he has no idea.

Only those who went down there know how strong these things can be and Steve appreciates him trying to talk sense into Dustin, who just barrels on. They make eyecontact and Eddie looks a little apologetic, obviously wanting to have Steve’s back, but failing under Dustin, who has set his mind to something. Steve gives him a small smile to show he gets it that Eddie returns.

Only to be snapped out of staring at Eddie when the rest of the conversation finally registers and he realizes Max is trying to make herself bait.

“Max, you can’t,” Lucas says and Steve wholeheartedly agrees with it.

“Then I can do it,” Chrissy speaks up.

“What? No,” Steve and Robin say almost at the exact same time.

“What do you propose then?” she counters. “Someone has to be bait.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to like it and just let you,” Steve argues, frown deep. He hates that this isn’t a danger he can throw himself in front of. He can’t bear the thought of them getting hurt. None of them.

“It’s too dangerous,” Robin pleads. “You can’t. He’ll kill you.”

“We’ve survived before. We can survive again,” Max backs Chrissy up, because of course she does. Crossing her arms and looking at them defiantly.

“Yeah,” Chrissy crosses her arms too. “I just need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic.”

Max nods and adds: “Then you can chop his head off. Stab him in the heart. Blow him up with some explosive Dustin cooks up. I honestly really don’t care how you put this asshole into his grave. Just whatever it is, whatever you do, try not to miss.”

Everyone is quiet and seemingly accepting it, even if there is pain in their eyes. But Steve isn’t going down just yet. He crosses his arms right back and says: “It’s too dangerous. Are there no alternatives? Are we sure? Robin, you can’t be agreeing here.”

“Of course I don’t like it,” Robin replies, throwing her hands up in the air. “If I could take her place I would.”

“Plus, she’s not the boss of me,” Chrissy says, glaring at Steve. She softens slightly as she adds: “I understand you’re worried, but I want to do this. We know how the stop it. The moment I start floating, someone can put my headphones back on. It’s either me or Max.”

And that is just plain mean, Steve thinks, eyes flitting between Chrissy and Max. He told her how worried he is for Max and how much all the kids mean to him. So he just huffs: “Well, I still don’t like it.”

“I know,” Chrissy smiles sadly, bumping her shoulder against Steve’s.

He gives her a strained smile back, then looks at Max, who says: “If it goes wrong, I’ll take my headphones off and be a distraction for Vecna.”

“Absolutely not. You’re not putting yourself in danger too,” Steve tells her. “But thank you. I trust you to keep an eye on her.”

It’s not much, but it’s enough to get a little smile out of Max, which is a huge win seeing the past few weeks, months honestly.

“Okay, so Max and Chrissy are one team for the distraction,” Nancy takes over again to plan. “Who is going with them. Erica?”

“Alright, I can hold watch,” Erica says, looking unbothered, but Steve can tell she’s happy not to have to go close to the portal. Not that she had to worry, because Steve would have never let her. None of the kids are going near it, if he can help it.

“I’ll also help,” Lucas is quick to interject.

“Yeah, me too,” Robin says.

Nancy, who has been blind to how Chrissy and Robin are dancing around each other, shakes her head and says: “No, Lucas is smart, but we need you on a different team. I say we have a team distracting the bats at the trailer portal and a team going in and then Chrissy as bait at the Creel house.”

“But Lucas alone can’t do make sure both Chrissy and Max are okay,” Robin protests, giving Chrissy anguished eyes.

Steve wants to point out that Max is not going to put herself in danger, but he is here to back Robin up, so he suggests: “It would be smart to have an extra set in hands just in case.”

“Maybe Dustin,” Nancy agrees. “But we need people to go into the Upside Down. And if it’s Chrissy that’s going to be bait, she has both Lucas and Max there, not to mention Erica.”

“I can also do communications,” Erica offers. “This needs to be a coordinated attack.”

“We could use a system of lights and radios,” Dustin suggest.

“That’s smart, you two think about that,” Nancy says, then turns back to Robin and Steve. “It’s better if we go into the Upside Down. We can’t afford to go in a too small group.”

Robin looks at Steve, then at Chrissy, then back at Steve. Like him, she has realized that Nancy is right, but she doesn’t like it in the slightest. Steve can relate. If he hadn’t already set his mind on going into danger, he’d also want to stay with Chrissy, plus he would feel a lot better if he could go alone and everyone would be safe here in Hawkins. Their Hawkins.

“Fine,” she snarls, crossing her arms. “I’ll go bash Vecna’s head in.”

“I’ll go too,” Steve says.

“Me too,” Nancy agrees.

Eddie pipes up: “Is there more room on team kill Vecna? No, what am I saying, course not. I’d be better on team distraction anyway, I’m too loud.”

Steve’s heart breaks a little at the thought that he won’t be able to keep a close eye on Eddie and he seriously considers going back to wage a war for Robin to get to stay behind, but they have to think logically about this. And logically, they can’t go fight Vecna without a distraction.

“I can help Eddie,” Dustin speaks up.

“That can work,” Nancy agrees.

“No,” Steve says. He has already given in too much. Both Nancy and Robin are going into danger with him, Chrissy and Eddie are going to make themselves a target, Max might take a risk too. He’s not letting Dustin go in the Upside Down. No way.

“Steve,” Nancy sighs in that same tone she used to call him an idiot in, like he means well, but just doesn’t get it. A call back to when he followed her blindly and didn’t question her. He wonders if she thinks she can achieve something with that tone.

“I said no, Nance,” two can play that game. “None of them are going in there. He can coordinate with Erica from the trailer, but he’s not setting a foot into the Upside Down.”

“Hey, no fair,” Dustin exclaims.

“Yes fair,” Steve shoots back with a glare that means business. “I am going to go back in there and we’re going to kill Vecna and I can’t do that if I’m worried about whether or not you are okay. You said I can��t make any guarantees and I told you I was going to try, remember?”

“Yeah,” Dustin mumbles, obviously unhappy about where this is going.

“Well, this is me trying to make sure there are the least amount of risks,” Steve explains, trying to be patient, but failing a little. “You’re not going.” He turns to Nancy and repeats: “He’s not going,” to which she raises her hands in a placating manner, he won her over, thank fuck.

“But-” Dustin starts.

“No, buts,” Steve snaps, feeling a little guilty when Dustin snaps his mouth shut, though not for long, already working himself up to start arguing again.

Before he can, however, Eddie steps in and says: “Listen to Steve, Dustin. I’m not letting you come with me. I’m going to paint a target on my back. My back. You’re already in enough shit because of me, I’m not letting you put yourself in danger like that. This isn’t a game.”

“I know that,” Dustin exclaims. “I’ve been through this more times than you. What if something happens to you? You didn’t put shit on my back, I want to help and I know more than you.”

“You know I don’t mean it like that-” Eddie starts.

“No, you don’t, but it’s true,” Dustin cuts him off. “I’ve lived through this before. This isn’t my first time in danger.”

“Yes, it is,” Steve snaps. “Because we’ve always tried to keep you safe. I fought with those demoshits when you were behind me, I got captured in that base so you could run and I got pulled into that lake while you were on the coast. I took those risks, so you didn’t have to. Just like Hopper did for us. I’m not letting you die. Not on my watch, Henderson. It’s my job to keep you safe, you fucking idiot. If anyone is taking the risks, it’s us and you’re staying here and you’re going to deal with it, because I’m not going to your fucking funeral.”

It’s quiet after his outbursts. His own breathing is heavy and Dustin stares at him in shock. Around them, the tension can be cut like a knife. No one dares to say a word.

Much to Steve’s horror, tears start to well in Dustin’s eyes, but he bravely swallows them away. Yet they’re still audible in his voice as he replies: “And do you think I can go to your funeral? Or Eddie’s? You die, I die, remember.”

“And I’m not going to die,” Steve promises, despite knowing he can’t. “All I’m saying is that I know how to swing a bat, you don’t. Once you stop skipping PE, you can come, okay?”

The joke cuts the tension and Dustin huffs a laugh.

Eddie comes up behind the kid and ruffles his head, much like Steve himself does, as he says: “And nothing’s happening to me either, you know I’m good at running.”

“You’re also pretty brave, you know,” Dustin tells him and Steve can see how Eddie swells a little with pride.

He’s so good with Dustin, thinks too little of himself even though he deserves the world. Steve loves him so fucking much it hurts, but he can’t throw the operation off.

He can’t risk their friendship. They have to rely on Eddie to keep their path clear and Eddie has to rely on them to make sure he’ll make it out alive. He can’t upset that delicate balance of trust, no matter how much he wants to kiss Eddie right now. Plus, the kids and Nancy are here and he doesn’t want to out himself or Eddie.

So, he stays quiet as Nancy nods: “So, we have our teams. Now we just need to get weapons and stuff for a distraction. Ideas?”

Eddie lights up and quickly gets a paper, spreading it out on the table as he points to an add and says: “Check this out. The War Zone. I’ve been there once. It’s huge. They got everything you need for, uh, well, killing things, basically.”

“You think fake Rambo has enough guns there? Is that a grenade? I mean, how is any of this legal?” Robin judges bitchily and both Chrissy and Steve snort.

“Well, lucky for us, it is,” Eddie replies back, just as bitchily and Steve can’t help but look at him a little gooey eyed, which he quickly wipes off his face after meeting Robin’s eyes and seeing her ‘really?’ stare.

Eddie is still talking about avoiding hicks and cops and Steve tunes back in to hear Erica make the valid point that at a store like The War Zone there probably are angry hicks.

“Normally I’d agree,” Nancy says, “but we need the weapons. So I think it’s worth the risk.”

“Me too,” Lucas agrees, as Dustin does the opposite, wondering if it’s worth the time to bike there and Steve has to agree with that, remembering the horror bike ride in the Upside Down, how his sides screamed at him. He doesn’t know if he can bike that far and go kill Vecna. It’s more an either or situation.

“Who said anything about bikes?” Eddie speaks up.

“What you got some sort of car we don’t know about, Eds?” Steve asks, wondering why Eddie didn’t say before as well as wondering how, since he knows Eddie’s van is off somewhere near Rick’s boathouse.

“Well, it’s not exactly a car, Stevie,” Eddie says as he stands up from where he’d been leaning over the table in a manner Steve had pointedly not been looking at. Now they’re almost nose to nose and Steve is concentrating so hard on not looking at Eddie’s lips that he almost misses Eddie say: “And it’s not exactly mine, but uh, it’ll do.”

Eddie looks at the others for a second, then back at Steve. He gives him a mischievous grin that makes Steve knees go weak and he just knows they’re going to get into trouble, but with eyes like that, Steve is willing to follow Eddie anyway.

A/N:

I just love Steve being oblivious while Eddie looses his mind about the handkerchief lmao

Also trying to figure out a plan was the worstttt, I hate it, why do I do this to myself? Season 4 is a fucking nightmare lmao, but I do love the Dustin & Steve dynamic of this chapter, so vibe xp

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