#human steve au

[findafight]

Saw a prompt on the kinkmeme of the kids all being werewolves DESPERATELY trying to get human Steve to realize he's part of their pack and like. Listen. Okay. Listen

Steve has fought monsters from alternate dimensions. He has accepted Shit's Crazy in Hawkins. But he also needs someone to hold his hand and be very clear about instructions and other social things. So when they kids casually mention being werewolves he assumes it's part of their little dragon rpg game. No one can really fault him on this!! Alternate dimensions and superpowered children are on a different level than magical creatures!!

Hawkins is like, a safehaven for supernatural folks. Werewolves especially, with chief Hopper around. (The Party is a pack that's young, but has strong bonds) There's some vamps, though they mostly feed off energy (god knows the Munson boy does with his dramatics and penchant for getting into parties to deal) witches, of course, also like Hawkins and have good rapport with the locals in the know. (Mr. Sinclair is well known for his soothing muscle creams, household blessings, and the occasional curse.) Fae also are known to wander the streets.

All this to say, Robin is a selkie. One time in highschool Steve picked up her coat that had fallen off the back of her chair and handed it to her. The other humanish folks in the room went dead silent and stared because WHAT THE HELL Robin Buckley is soulmates with Steve Harrington??? But it's quickly forgotten and marked as a fluke. It keeps happening tho. At scoops he helps her get her coat on when it's raining and she's going through the five stages of grief because how is her soulmate a boy?!? THIS boy in particular?!?

And then she realizes, on a grody mall bathroom floor, that yeah, Steve's her soulmate. She tells Steve a few weeks after starcourt and he's like ".......what." so she drags him to his pool and puts her pelt on, transforming into a cute seal in front of him and he's like ".......WHAT!" because eshes a seal but her smile is the same and he proceeds to pat her belly and worry that the chlorine isn't good for her and that they should go to lover's lake so she can get a good swim in.

He still doesn't realize the kids are werewolves until Dustin begs Robin to just tell Steve, he'll believe her he's ALREADY believed her!! They need their human!!!

And she goes "uhg. Fine. But one of you'll have to transform for him he's more of a visual and tactile learner"

Dustin goes mistyeyed "ohhhhh I bet he gives the BEST belly rubs and ear scratches..."

Robin is SO SMUG because Steve absolutely gives the best belly rubs and seals are just dogs of the ocean.

So eventually Steve gets In The Know of all supernatural, non-upsidedown, happenings in Hawkins.

And then he turns nineteen.

His parents, both in town at the same time and on his Birthday no less, sit him down to tell him about the Family Legacy.

Harringtons, after all, are notorious Monster Hunters.

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Brave [5 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: The journey to Tarrath is not one to be undertaken lightly—there are more things to fear in the untamed places of the world than stags, a lesson you are soon to learn. 

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy/n AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

A/N: 👀

You have been riding since before sunup, and your hips and back ache from long hours spent in the saddle. The pack sets a leisurely pace through the grass sea, meandering through the plain in a loose line. The vast mountains you knew are at your back now, shrinking into misty, faint points. They tell you how far you have come with their distance, and you wonder how many steps you have taken since last you were the person you had been before. 

Since you left the woman you were supposed to be by the riverside—and how many more you will have to take to become someone else entirely. Though it has been only a fortnight sine you watched the village burn, it feels like a lifetime ago. Someone else’s memory, someone else’s eyes. 

The pack keeps a steady pace until the sun is high in the sky and the mountains are meaningless pinpricks. The land changes too, the flat plains turning into rolling hills that remind you of the cresting waves you have seen painted in books and on tapestries. The only difference is, these don’t come crashing down to drown you, the grass whispering quietly in the breeze. 

You ride somewhere in the middle of the line, the pack stretching both before and behind you, riding towards the sun as it begins to sink low in the sky. You can see Steve near the front, his sword strapped between his broad, bare shoulders. Like he can feel your gaze, he turns back, one thick fang hanging over his lip as he grins. You drop your head, your cheeks burning. 

Let them see.

When you look up again, he’s gone. 

—

Night on the grass sea is beautiful. A thousand thousand stars glow like fireflies caught in tar, stretching out further than you can see into the darkness. The pack does not stop, continuing at the same pace as all light fades, and the moon rises cold and clear. At first, the sheer drop in temperature is enough to keep you awake—without the thick furs and blankets neatly rolled and strapped to your horse, your ripped dress offers less protection against the biting wind. But after a few hours, despite the chill, your eyelids begin to droop heavily, your shoulders dropping as you slump in the saddle. 

It is the feel of Steve’s warm hand on your back that wakes you, instantly jolting you into panicked awareness as you turn sharply to glare at him. 

“Easy, Sweetmeat,” he replies. “I mean only to keep you from breaking your neck.” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless that is your wish this night.” 

You scowl. “No, I—thank you.” The words come haltingly.

“The journey is a long one.” Steve shrugs. “You will learn to sleep in the saddle.” 

“Or fall out of it,” you mutter, and he laughs, a loud boisterous sound that carries out into the night. 

“You never cease to amuse, Sweetmeat,” he says after a moment, the words still colored with the sound of his mirth. “I wonder what the elders shall make of you.” There is fear at his words, but your curiosity burns just as brightly. 

“What is it like?” You ask. “Your city?”

“In your tongue, Tarrath means ‘city at the end of the world’.”  You feel your eyes widen in spite of your attempt to keep your features schooled into neutrality. “It was built into the cliffside by my people long ago, before we knew the arbitrary lines your kings drew on their maps.” You gape at him, floundering for words. The maps you know end somewhere out into the grass sea. At their edges, perhaps an orc settlement or two, but mostly… nothing.  The impossibly vast mountains and the forests that border them are all you know.

But perhaps the truths you know are not truths at all. 

“Have you seen the sea, little one?” You shake your head. 

“What does it look like?”

Steve smiles. “Blue. The water is salt to the taste, but so blue. Like… two skies.” He motions with his hands, and you hold the reins tightly as you close your eyes and try to see it. More water than you could possibly imagine, as deep and endless as the sky.

“And the city?” You ask, stifling a yawn. 

“There are great towers of red brick with fires at their hearts. And there are not so few men as you might think.” 

“Humans?”

“And more.” He nods. “Elves, Dwarves. Children of the world before.”

You begin to slump again as he speaks, but this time Steve doesn’t wake you. He reaches across your lap to grasp the reins in one large hand. He loops them around the horn of his saddle. When you do finally begin to lean over, it is against his warm shoulder. 

“You coddle her.”  Bucky’s irritated voice doesn’t wake you—the firm hold exhaustion has on you is too heavy to drag your mind back to wakefulness, and you will not remember these words when you do wake again. Steve chuckles. 

“I like her.”

—

“Storm’s too thick.” You, and the rest of the pack are crowded around Bucky as he speaks, the horses shifting anxiously in the stillness. You can see it, the band of dark, angry dust stretching across the horizon. You’ve never seen anything like it, like the Gods’ fury given terrible form. When Bucky had set out to scout, it was a pinprick–and now the cloud stretches almost as far as you can see. “We’ll be waiting days for it to pass.”

Steve grimaces, his tusks hanging over his lip as he showcases his displeasure. 

“Aye,” he agrees, turning his eyes toward the horizon, eyeing the storm. “We’ll go around.” 

“The pass?” There’s a murmur of something like discomfort that passes through the pack. Something like fear. “Gods damn it.” Bucky looks back toward the storm and curses again. “We don’t have the rations to wait it out.” He doesn’t ask—it isn’t a question. And Steve’s grim expression is all the answer you need. 

“We’ll put it to a vote. The pass—or the storm.” He turns to the pack. “Those who want to brave the storm, step forward.” Lightning crashes in the distance, and you swallow thickly. By the sound of it, the pass is equally formidable. You recall the stag, it’s hungry jaws and fierce eyes, and wonder what else waits for you on this road—the one you’ve chosen. 

After a moment, Steve nods stonily, his expression battle-fierce. 

“The pass it is.” 

The pack wastes no time reorienting itself, turning west to skirt around the tempest of stinging sand and thunder. Carol rides up beside you, her expression grim. 

“Do not think we have chosen the easy road, little human.” 

You don’t. “What is the pass?”

“It was a road, once. One that has returned to the sea and the things that live inside it.” Her voice is low, warning. “Men are wise to fear the zikaegina,” she gestures at the endless shifting grass. “It hides many things.” 

“Why did you abandon the road?” Carol grimaces, her expression heavy with memories, knowledge you don’t share. Her eyes are dark when they meet yours again.

“Because other things used it too.” 

to be continued

next

[dad-sun-and-moon]

Whiteboard stuff!

A bunch of AUs in this dump. We got Baby Gegy, Minecraft, and Bonnie making more appearances.

The one with Steve and Dan is the Minecraft au (aka Soncraft). Steve is… Steve, and Dan is Herobrine, except he’s just some cryptid who loves turtles and his future boyfriend.

Bonnie is not sober

[sm-baby]

hehe HUMAN AU!!!

[sailing-through-hawkins]

ready for your bite

✧ written for 'suck' ✧ word count: 480 ✧ rated: T ✧ cw: none ✧ tags: vampire!eddie, confident steve, suggestive ✧ @steddiemicrofic (〜￣▽￣)〜✧

"Hello? Is anyone here? I'm sorry to intrude, but there's a terrible storm -"

"And so you enter my home?"

Steve gasped, spinning around to find a man, watching him from the shadows. "Please," he says. "Allow me to stay for just the night, until the storm passes."

The man stares at the droplets running down his skin. "Of course. Come, I'll show you where you can dry off."

Steve inhales when he hears the window click open, the hinges somehow quiet despite it being so large and heavy.

He stays silent as a weight starts to creep on him, tangles of curls brushing against his bare skin, only letting out a sigh when a feather-light touch grazes down his throat.

"What a pretty bride you'd make."

The words are soft, almost wistful, and his heart races, which means the game is over.

"And why," he drawls, opening his eyes to stare up at the shocked Edmund above him. "Would I not be a groom?"

"I - you're awake?" Edmund says and Steve almost coos.

"Is this the part where you ravish me in bed?" He raises his brow, moving his body languidly across the sheets, watching as Edmund watches. "Where you tie me down, bite my skin and suck the life out of me?"

"I don't - you knew?"

"Oh come on," Steve rolls his eyes. "A big spooky castle in the middle of dangerous woods with a single occupant who has no reflection?"

"How could -" Edmund sputters, still caging Steve to the bed. "There are no silver-backed mirrors here!"

"Brought my own," Steve grins, shifting along the sheets again just to see Edmund's eyes flicker down.

"You're a hunter," he accuses, but he doesn't move.

"Something like that," Steve agrees, and he strokes a hand up Edmund's arm and shoulder, curling it around the nape of his neck. The vampire's eyes never leave his but damn, the way they widen. "I'm really just a man, looking for some shelter from the terrible storm outside."

"The storm passed an hour ago," Edmund says, even as he follows Steve's hand pushing him closer.

"Mm, but it's so cold out there," Steve pouts, both of his arms wrapped around Edmund's neck, his bare chest pressed against the silk of Edmund's shirt. He watches him swallow with a smile. "Will you leave your poor fiancé to shiver just after you promised me forever?"

"I - you - this isn't how it's supposed to go?!"

Steve pulls him in closer, pushes Edmund's face into his neck, relishes in the sound of his gasp. "Why not? Everything's going according to your plan, I am simply asking if you intend to get my blood all over these fine sheets."

"What are you?" Edmund says softly, nervously, into Steve's skin.

"Why don't you start drinking," Steve grips his hair with a smile. "And find out?"

[eechytooru]

Just sketchin' a bit

[self-written-god]

T | 1625 | m/m Steddie human/wingfolk | fantasy | winged!Eddie, wing grooming

The business was slow at first, but as the word spread, more clients were coming, including those that paid a lot for full treatment, from cleaning to waxing, and sometimes even dyeing. In a year, the salon became the best known in the region, with some arguing it was the best one. Maybe it wasn’t the biggest achievement considering the services provided were still hard to come by, but it was an achievement nevertheless.

Robin saw wingfolks from many species and all walks of life, but the man that walked through the door one Thursday afternoon was a sight to behold.

He was dressed in all black, the alternative type that didn’t mind cutting a hole through a shirt to accommodate his wings. The clothing matched his feathers, dark like coal and opalescent when the sun hit them just right. Black wings were rare in general, and their owners also kept to their circles. Steve could count on the fingers of one hand the times he worked on them in the past year of running his business.

“Welcome to Robin’s grooming service, how can I help you today?”

Instead of a greeting, the man looked around, studying the salon walls and the man who greeted him.

“I’ve heard you take in all the customers?”

Steve straightened his spine. It was a question he’s heard before, in many intonations.

“Yes, we care about the wings, not who they belong to or what color they are.”

He’s heard about salons that refused to treat black wings, running on a prejudice that black wings belonged to demons or, as some called them, corrupted angels. Thus why they kept to themselves.

The man relaxed a bit, finally approaching the counter. 

“Are you free today?” he asked, fingers drumming nervously on the wood.

“Yeah, I have noone scheduled. What would you like to get done?” he smiled, hoping to come off as reassuring as possible. His client didn’t look very convinced though. He fidgeted with the feathers of his right wing, curled slightly towards himself.

“Just the basics. I don’t have much money and,” he hesitated before admitting. “I’ve never been to a groomer before, usually my uncle did it, but his arthritis got worse, and, you know…” he shrugged sheepishly, realizing he's sharing more than necessary. “Long story short my band leaves for our first tour this weekend and I wanna look good on stage.” He smiled, finally, and Steve could read the pride and excitement behind it, despite how small it was. He offered his own, wide grin back.

“Congrats on the tour, man. It sounds like a special occasion.”

“Thanks, it kinda is, isn't it?” The man scratched his cheek, the sheepish grin back.

"My name's Steve, I'll be working on you. What's yours?"

"Eddie."

The man notes the appointment down in his calendar, then closes it.

“Well, let’s get you stage ready then. Would you like some tea? I have a great yasmine blend. Do you prefer to lie down or sit?”

“Sit, I think. Tea would be great.”

“Gotcha. Get comfortable, you can change the music, adjust the chair however you like. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

The man sauntered to one of two stations in the salon, the one with the chair, tracing the leather before he turned to the radio and a stack of cassettes beside it. The wide selection of genres proved that the owner cared about his clients’ comfort more than imposing his taste on music on everyone. He shuffled through them, finally settling on an Aerosmith tape to pop it in. He settled on the chair, watching the man lineup needed supplies. A steaming mug of fragrant tea was settled down next to him.

“Thank you,” he said, following him with his gaze and then listening intently as he ran him through the process and the tools he’ll be using. First, came the brushing, to get rid of anything his feathers don’t need. It took him a moment to loosen up to the fact that a stranger was touching his wings, but when they finished the first one, he was relaxed enough to engage in some small talk.

“What’s the name of your band?”

“Corroded Coffin. We play metal, mostly covers, a few originals.”

The man hummed.

“Sounds fitting. Are all your bandmates winged folks?”

Sometimes this line of questioning would rub him the wrong way, but the groomer’s intentions seemed genuine. Besides, he got raving reviews from people Eddie trusted.

“Our drummer is fully human, but other than that, yes. Only mine are black, though.”

“They are beautiful,” the man said, and he blushed under the compliment, glad to be turned away from him. “Pity I don’t get to work on black wings often.”

“Well, if you do a good job today, who knows,” he offered. “Maybe I’ll need some grooming when I come back from the tour. Someone’s gotta brush away the leftover coke.”

Steve snorted.

“Oh, it’s this kind of tour? Sex, drugs and rock’n’roll? I’m fine with coke, but cleaning up sperm will cost you extra.”

Eddie choked on his spit, head snapping back to see the man’s cocky smirk. He could feel his cheeks heat up, imagining scenarios in which cum could get up there.

“Thanks, I think I'll manage,” he choked out, turning back away.

“I mean, it takes two, at least, and a good partner should help with it.”

“I guess so,” he mused, red faced against his arms, and the topic simmered out. 

“Were you in a forest recently?” the groomer asked instead.

“Uh, yeah, why? Oh no, is there a tick?!”

“No, no, don���t worry,” the man chuckled. “Just some pine needles. And twigs. Found a small pinecone too,” he said, showing him the findings in his palm.

If he gets any redder he might faint.

“Uh, that’s not cool, I’m usually more careful, I swear I’m not a slob-”

Steve stopped him, patting the bare skin between his wings soothingly.

“My friend has wings too, I know how easy it is to get stuff stuck in them after just a short walk through the woods. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about."

Eddie grumbled into his arms, melting further into them as if he wanted to disappear. The rest of the brushing was uneventful, with Steve mostly talking about his winged friend. Her name was Robin, the namesake of the salon, and she was a co-owner of the place. It seemed like they were close, but not once did Eddie get the idea the feelings between them were romantic. 

“Now I'm gonna clean them for any remaining dirt, then just conditioning and we’ll be done.”

Eddie nodded, watching him swap the supplies for the next task. 

Five minutes in proved him wrong for thinking brushing was his favorite part of grooming. Steve was way more attentive than his uncle, gently rubbing the suds into feathers. Under his touch, and with a faint smell of jasmine, he started dozing off. After the third time he jolted himself awake, Steve gently said:

“It’s okay, you can nap. You wouldn’t be the first one. I’ll wake you up to pick the oil when I’m done.”

Eddie nods once, and settles his head on his arms, letting himself drift off.

He’s woken up by a warm hand soothing the knobs of his spine. He purrs at the touch, still in a sleepy daze, before catching himself. The man chuckles, but doesn’t comment. He offers him a slim brown bottle.

“I have others to choose from, but I think this one would work for you.”

Eddie screws it open and takes a sniff. 

“It smells…” he searches his brain for the right word. “Foresty.”

“Yeah, Do you like it?” The man is grinning again, so Eddie rolls his eyes before admitting that yes, he does. Steve takes the bottle back. “You can go back to sleep, or I can make you some more tea or coffee if you’d rather wake up before leaving.”

As appealing as another nap sounded, Eddie didn’t want to embarrass himself further in front of the man.

“Coffee sounds great.”

“Gotcha. Be right back.”

He returned bearing coffee and immediately went to work. He rubbed the oil on his palms before applying it to the feathers with the same motion he’d been cleaning them with, slow and attentive.

Maybe not going to sleep was a bad choice, but Eddie determinedly sipped on his coffee, just letting himself enjoy the treatment. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” the man spoke up, surprising Eddie. He made a hum of encouragement. “For a favor, actually. I’d give you a full treatment for free as payment, of course.”

Eddie turned back to look at him, now curious. The man was focused on his wings.

“Just spill it, man.”

He breathed out, finally looking up to meet his gaze.

“I’d like to add your wings to my portfolio,” he motioned vaguely to the walls of the salon, decorated with photos of wingfolk. The main focus were their wings, some of their faces weren’t even shown, though some had make up and hair done - a secondary specialization for the salon. “Most of those are of my friends, but none of them have black wings. I’d love to have yours displayed.”

Eddie frowned. 

“You want my wings on your wall?”

“Greatly.”

“Wouldn’t that scare off customers?” he reminded. 

The man only huffed.

“Good, I don’t need people like that around me.”

Eddie was stunned into silence. He turned back to settle against the chair, considering the photos on the walls.

“Okay. I’ll contact you after the tour?”

“I’d love that. Thank you,” the man said with a smile in his voice and went back to work.

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

post apocalypse au where the plot of stranger things doesn't happen but vecna still tears the world open and brings the upside down right side up. and the scattered people who managed to survive the initial earthquakes and power outages and complete breakdown of society have to contend not only with creatures from the upside down trying to eat them, but also with what the bleeding of an alternate dimension into their reality is doing to their bodies

people with prolonged exposure to larger tears seem to be slowly changed into something else, like some radioactivity from the dimension is mutating them. people grow claws, or leathery wings, or their face peels open, or they turn into unrecognisable piles of eldritch goo. there's vampires, were-demogorgons, flayed, weird ghosts, and the number of super powered people like el was in the show skyrockets

other people who manage avoid this fate shun those that fell to it. and to an extent it's reasonable, some people who get changed in this way completely lose their humanity, like the flayed, and while others retain it it probably doesn't seem that way when a vampire-like person needs human blood to survive. but a lot of people are just as terrified of the changes happening to them as other people are, and while they may not be harmless, they'd much rather use their new biological advantages to keep people safe

despite this, people that have been 'corroded' by the upside down are ostracised, feared, sometimes outright hunted by regular humans. so sometimes, they band together. form their own little apocalypse groups

eddie is in one of those groups. he wouldn't say he's the leader, bc they don't really have a hierarchical structure and eddie likes to think he's managed to maintain his anarchic ideals even in the face of the apocalypse. but he is the oldest, and the most scary looking (if not the most actually dangerous), so the combination of everyone being younger and his ability to scare off corroded-hunters that come looking for them means everyone else kind of follows his lead

so no one really questions when he comes back to camp one day holding two passed out humans. a mole-dotted man and a freckled woman, probably about eddie's age, who were injured and had crawled into a ruin building to die. and like. what was eddie supposed to do, leave them there??? no, gareth, it has nothing to do with how pretty the guy is. no, eddie doesn't know how they'll react when they wake up in the middle of a corroded camp, they'll cross that bridge when they get there. el says she senses that they're good people, so clearly everything will be fine actually!!!!!

[deoidesign]

hhhhhmmmm rotating them in my brain

[monster-cock69]

All human au where Steve and Bucky are in an open relationship and Peter knew but didn’t realize they were each other’s husbands until he’s leaving the apartment after hooking up with one and sees the other

[findafight]

WAIT OKAY I just read your supernatural st au and AHHHHH now I need that one too holy shit token human Steve!! Token human Steve!!!

Even here everyone’s just like I love him he’s a neat little guy he’s literally thrown himself around and been mortally wounded for the party when he’s literally the only human and everyone’s just like - him!!!! Selkie Robin and how they find out they’re soulmates!! Aaahh!!!! And that final line…… I am obsessed putting in my little request for a full fic when you can, pretty please!!!

Anon you're spoiling meeeee I love you I love hearing from people who like my writing/ideas!! Original post

This one is definitely something that has high potential of me actually writing too. Because like, yeah. The Party is Marge Simpson "I just think they're neat" potato meme about Steve. He's so shaped.

This has a readmore because it's actually got two different mini scenes in it. Enjoy~~~ (also note I included a bit of another non kinky kinkmeme prompt about supernatural baby sitter Steve in this!)

I imagine a scene where Dustin, early fall of '85, is complaining to Lucas and Mike about another failed attempt to get Steve Officially (as he can't actually be Pack unless he KNOWS he's pack, ya feel? Like he IS their pack but also he doesn't know so not really but yes but no...) In their pack at lunch, and Eddie, who as mentioned is a vampire that feeds off energy and is therefore The Most Dramatic Bitch Ever, overhears and is like

"Steve? Steve Harrington is part of your Pack??"

And Dustin goes "well he would if he stopped being DENSE about it!!! We've been trying to tell him-"

"you've been trying to tell him" says Mike.

"-since before Christmas last year! But he keeps thinking we're-"

"you're-"

"-talking about DnD!!"

Eddie is just a little shocked his newest sheepies have been trying for nine months to tell Steve, King Steve, of all people, that his preppy human ass is such a firm part of their Pack that they haven't given up on telling him.

Lucas pipes up. "To be fair to Steve, he was concussed before Christmas last year, and then again this summer."

Dustin shakes his head. "Need to get the guy a helmet. Protect the braincells he has left."

"did he have any to begin with?"

"oh, can it, Mike." Lucas says. "At least he knows about Robin, now. So maybe you should ask her for help. He believed her!"

Ohhh? Eddie was curious, because he had heard certain...rumours, about a Robin and her possible tie to Steve Harrington.

Dustin scoffs. "Okay, yeah, but she's his literal actual soulmate who he still refuses to date, and she transformed in front of him. But I don't want to freak him out. A seal is one thing, a wolf is another!"

"Dustin, you're basically a dachshund."

"fuck right off"

Eddie waves his hands in front of them. "Wait wait wait. Are you talking about Robin Buckley? The selkie in the marching band with Gareth?" The sheepies nod. "You're saying Steve Harrington, former captain of laundry basket sport-"

"actually pretty sure he wasn't ever basketball captain, just swim team-"

"-former Head Jock, is dorky little Robin Buckley's soulmate? Like full on, Selkie coat magic woo woo, Soulmate?"

They all nod, but it's Lucas who speaks. "Yeah. They worked together over the summer. Became, like, inseparable. She told him in August sometime I think."

Eddie does not know how to process that.

-----

ALSO!!!

I imagine Steves parents sitting him down, after his nineteenth birthday (which I headcanon as April first) and very carefully explaining to him that Monsters Are Real.

And Steve sitting there, nearly eight months into knowing that, trying to pretend he doesn't. Pretending that since Robin told him she was a Selkie and the Party told him about being werewolves, he'd sort of, kind of, become any supernatural beings' go to babysitter. Sort of.

It started with a litter of pups he stumbled across in the woods who seemed really friendly for being abandoned in the woods and welcomed the water he brought them and the ear scritches he gave, that he didn't even realize were werewolf children until a couple came crashing through the trees frantically and stopped to watch as he helped a puppy get a leaf off its paw. And the pups are waggled over to the woman and the man looked at Steve with a twitchy nose and then Steve realized they were scenting him because ohhhh. Werewolves.

And Steve went "uh. I think they forgot how to change back? Good luck?" And left. Because what else was he going to do?

So it became a thing. Little magical creatures were told that if all else fails, Steve Harrington will make sure you're safe and looked after until your parents could get to them. He amassed a Rolodex of the contact info near-human folk of Hawkins, and a reputation for being a damn good babysitter. And also somehow having a gaggle of kids around him whenever he went to the park.

So his parents go on and on about things Steve already knows about and he's wondering why they're telling him all of it and also how they know and then they mention how these things are dangerous. How they must be removed. Destroyed. Killed.

Because that's what Harringtons do, they hunt monsters in the night and keep the good, normal, human folks of america safe.

And Steve, who knows that there are supernatural creatures in Hawkins; who knows what actual monsters in Hawkins look like and has hit them with a spiked bat and an axe; who can't go three blocks before some pup or fae or gnome or whatever decides to follow him like a duckling; who little lost kids of all shapes and sizes flock to in order to get back home; sits there and listens as his parents tell him how to kill them. How to salt and burn the remains.

He grips the edge of the table with white knuckles and purposefully evens his breath. He will not betray The Party, or Robin, or any of the families who have found a safe haven in Hawkins to live their lives peacefully. And isn't it ironic, that the place the Harringtons supposedly live, the place they are barely in because of legitimate business and the family business takes them across the country, is a hotbed for supernatural activity. It happened right under their noses, and their only son and heir was at the centre of it. The Human in a Pack of werewolves, platonic soulmate to a Selkie, potential.... something to a vampire, babysitter of all the little creatures of the county.

So Steve tries to make a plan. He can't let his parents know that Hawkins is anything but a quiet human town, but he can't let them keep hurting innocents either. It's either a long con of taking up his family mantle and changing things from inside, manipulating the system like he did in highschool to his whims, or dismantling it loudly and more dramatically which could back fire.

Either way, as soon as his parents leave again (for human related business), he takes the family Grimoire, his birthright, and calls an All Party Meeting.

He slams the tome onto the table and says, simply,

"we've got a problem"

[a-little-unsteddie]

wip weekend

it’s that time of week, and i’m back with more things that need writing :b once i finish ch 3 of stuck in your throat, i’ll start posting it. i’m like, 1/4 of the way through ch 2.

so you know the drill from others doing this, but just in case: send me an emoji and i’ll write a snippet in the respective fic and post it with your ask! i’ll accept asks through Monday 11/27 10:00pm CST.

🎤: stuck in your throat - omegaverse fic, gift for lexirosewrites, rockstar alpha!eddie, nanny omega!steve

🪐: untitled humans are space orcs au - human!steve in space, gets kidnapped from earth by brenner, eventually meets alien!eddie and robin

snippet from 🪐

Eddie wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong, but he knew there was something off about the ship. Hellfire was a reliable—and more importantly, consistent—ship that had never let the crew down. She made the same creaking noises she always did, the same groaning when they accelerated too hard, the same buzzing of the lights filled the ship to the brim with noise, but there was something off. Things around the ship were moved, disappearing there and reappearing here.

It put him on edge.

He wasn’t the only one noticing, either.

Gareth complained more and more frequently that his starcharts were being moved.

Dustin accused Jeff of taking his reports, which had grown into a daily argument.

Jeff told him that the medical supplies were being moved, or taken entirely, which made Eddie nervous.

Argyle said their rations were being used quicker than they usually did.

Robin said she was woken repeatedly throughout the night cycle to weird noises coming from the hallway outside her room, which was possibly the creepiest thing that had been reported to him.

They weren’t a large crew, not like the many other trading ships, there were six crew mates in total. They usually knew exactly how much of their supplies they needed, so to be told they were going through their rations faster than they usually did, there was really only one viable cause.

They had a stowaway.

[justrambles]

au where a lot of people in hawkins are fantasy/mythological beings (dustin is werewolf, wheelers are faes, robin's a witch etc) and steve is a guy. just a human. but it doesn't stop him from being the trusted babysitter in hawkins.

claudia's been busy lately, so steve has been taking care of dustin's dinner. he's trying right now to make some edible spaghetti, waiting for dustin to come.

he hears the door open and the kid is unusually quiet. steve pokes his head out of the kitchen and sees him them.

dustin is giving steve his most innocent smile, but it doesn't take steve's attention from the being next to dustin.

he looks like a human, minus the fact that he has two large horns protruding from his forehead, blazing golden eyes, blood red fingers, and a tail. oh and there's smoke coming out of his mouth.

"uh... dustin, who's that?"

"who's who? :)"

"the man next to you??"

"oh! you meant eddie! yeah, steve say hi to eddie. eddie, say hi to steve."

the being—eddie— waves, also with a innocent smile.

"and he is–?"

"ohhe'sjustademonisummonedwiththepartytoday. he's no harm, actually."

"what?!"

so yeah, the party thought it would be fun to summon a demon and because dustin did the main act of summoning, the demon—eddie— is now bound to dustin by contract. he can't go back to hell until he finishes the deal, and in the meantime he's got nowhere to stay. and the kids can't take him in, their parents can't know about eddie. this leaves steve's.

steve's baffled, because did he just become housemates with a demon? and eddie is just curious of the human that has all those beings wrapped around his finger.

[nonbinary-eddie-munson]

I was thinking about how the run away with me au Robin and Steve "should we get divorced?" conversation comes about:

Theyre about 23 and Robin comes home in tears after another break up. The reason: Robin had asked her girlfriend of 8 months, Lorraine to move in with her and steve. Lorraine assumes this means steve is moving out and when Robin clarifys that no Steve is staying, he's an important part of her life theyre married for chists sake. Well Lorraine doesnt take that well, says she isnt going to spend her life playing second fiddle to Steve.

This isnt the first time a relationship had ended for either of them because a partner hadnt been able to accept that Steve and Robin were a package deal. Things had been especially rough for them romantically in the first couple years of their marriage. It wasnt until a particularly awful screaming match between Robin, Steve and Steves first real boyfriend, that they were able to admit their relationship was incredibly codependent and unhealthy. Steves boyfriend had been upset when Steve had cancelled on him for the 3rd time in a row because of a Robin Emergency™️ and decided to confront Robin about it while Steve was in class. Things escalated quickly when Steve came home early from class to find them arguing and immediately took Robins side. The argument and Steves relationship ended with a slammed door, a lot of tears and a new rift in Robin and Steves relationship.

It took a lot of long conversations with Carina and Marjorie, Steve working through his toxic masculinity enough to go see a therapist - He and Robin made a deal that theyd both go talk to someone about, you know almost dieing "do you think me being fucked up by what happened at starcourt makes me weak steve?" "No of course not!" "Well then why would it make you weak?" - and a summer spent apart (Robin taking an internship in rome to study latin) for them to sit down and have a long conversation about boundaries and ground rules for how they would navigate their relationship as well as dating in the future.

Steve and Robin agreed to both take a break from dating while they worked through their respective traumas, and figured out how to navigate their relationship in a healthy way. Things werent easy, the both of them occasionally backsliding into unhealthy behaviors, more than a few nights where one of them spent the night with Carina and Marjorie in order to have space from eachother. But eventually they get their shit figured out and decide to brave the world of dating again. Steve and Robin both have their share of flings and short lived relationships but nothing so far seemed to stick. That is until Robin met Lorraine.

Lorraine was funny, sweet and a little bitchy. They had immediately clicked after being introduced by some mutual friends from school. Robin really thought things with Lorraine were going to work out. Steve and Lorraine had gotten on like a house on fire, she had slipped into Robin and Steves dynamic easily, trading jokes and light hearted jabs, cooking breakfast together on days Lorraine would stay at their apartment. Robin had fallen hard and fast, she thought she had finally found someone who accepted that her and Steve were a package deal. So 8 months in when Lorraines lease was ending Robin (with agreement from steve) asked Lorraine to move in. Things don't go to plan. Robins dreams of a future with lorraine are shattered. She goes home broken hearted.

After Robin has cried herself out, her and steve cuddled together on the couch Steve is the one to broach the topic. Robin immediately bursts back into tears before he calms her back down again saying he doesnt want a divorce but he also doesnt want to hold Robin back, doesnt want to be the reason she cant find happiness. Robin replys by saying if anyone is holding the other back its obviously her, steve gave up everything to protect her afterall. Steve calls bullshit -years of therapy and he can finally say that word without cringing- says he would do it all again in a heartbeat, that she doesn't owe him anything. They stay up all night talking about it, about what the both of them want from their futures. Neither can see a future without the other. they're platonic life partners, one day they'll find their someones who can accept that and if not well, they'll always have eachother.

Of course they do find their someones in the form of a charming if infuriating metal head and a brilliant, sweet, and badass reporter. Through trial and error the four of them figure out how to navigate life together. They all live happy ever after.

Robin and Steve celebrate 30 years of marriage with divorce papers. They'll always love eachother but now they dont need a marriage to keep eachother safe. They dont need a marriage to stay as platonic life partners. They have eachother and they have Eddie and Nancy. They have everything they need.

-

Lmk what you think! I'd love to have someone to scream with about this AU and bounce ideas off of :D

Tagging by request <3 @ramyayaya

[eechytooru]

I have so many ideas for tawog, but there are so many of them that I forget half of them💀

[unfinishedslurs]

Whoopsie!! I totally killed Steve. My bad guys

Steve is batted away like a rag doll, and goes flying into a tree. The sickening crack leaves Dustin stunned, and he stops in his tracks, staring. Waiting for Steve to get back up, like he always does. 

He doesn’t.

Okay, so he’s passed out. Bad timing, but it’ll be like when Billy beat him up. He’ll probably have a nasty concussion, and a broken bone, but it’s fine. He’s fine. He’s always fine. It’s Steve. 

“Steve!” Robin cries. She starts to run to him, but a monster gets in her way and she has to defend herself. One rushes at him, too, and Dustin goes back to the fight. 

As soon as it’s over, Robin is hurtling towards the tree that Steve is still lying at the base of. Bile rises in Dustin’s throat as he follows her. He shouldn’t be passed out this long, it’s a sure sign of severe brain damage. He shouldn’t be laying this still. 

When he catches up, Robin is already shaking him. “Steve,” she pleads as the others come to see what’s going on. “Steve, c’mon, wake up. We gotta get you to a hospital. Hear that? It’s your least favorite word! I’m going to stick you in a hospital for life if you don’t wake up right now—“

“We should check his pulse,” Dustin says distantly. “Make sure his heartbeat’s steady.” He drops to his knees to do just that. Just as quick, Jonathan nudges him away. 

“I’ll do it,” he says, in a voice Dustin’s only heard him use on Will. “I’ve got some first aid training under my belt.”

He doesn’t reply, just takes the hand Robin’s not clutching and stays still, staring at Steve. He can’t stop feeling like something’s off about the way he’s laying there, completely motionless—

His heart stutters in his chest. Steve’s completely motionless. He’s usually so bad at staying still, always running his hands through his hair, or flicking his lighter, or tapping a beat against the steering wheel. Now, he’s not doing any of that. He’s not moving at all. There’s not even a rise and fall of his chest. 

Dustin stares uncomprehendingly. He has the puzzle pieces, he knows he does, but he can’t make them come together. It’s like his brain is rejecting the picture it makes. 

Jonathan pulls his fingers away from Steve’s throat, brow furrowed, anxiety pulling at his features. He starts to take Steve’s hand, but Dustin can’t make himself let go. 

Gently, ever so gently, Jonathan pries his fingers off the limp wrist in his grasp. Dustin lets it happen, silent.

Robin hasn’t stopped talking, quiet murmurs replacing the panicked concern from before. He can’t understand the words through the roaring in his ears. 

Jonathan has turned white as a sheet, frozen with his fingers looped around Steve’s wrist. He thinks he might know what it means. He thinks he’s wrong, he’s wrong, he’s got to be wrong—

Robin shifts to lie perpendicular to Steve, and lays her head on his chest. Quiet, like she’s listening for something. 

She doesn’t find it. 

It’s been three weeks, but Dustin can still hear Robin’s anguished howl ringing in his ears. 

They had to pull her off of him, needed Hopper and Murray both because she fought. Kicked and scratched and screamed when they took her. Kept calling out for Steve to wake up between it all, escaped twice so she could go back and hold him. Hopper was grim, face open and awful, Murray pale and swearing as they wrestled her away. 

Dustin hadn’t moved, still in shock. Jonathan and Argyle had to practically carry him out, because he couldn’t make his limbs work. He couldn’t make himself leave Steve’s side. 

He realized what they were doing halfway to the car. 

“Wait,” he said, twisting, “wait, what are we doing? We can’t leave him there. We can’t leave him alone, he hates being alone. We can’t—“

Jonathan and Argyle exchanged a look over his head. 

“I’ve got him, man,” Argyle said quietly. Jonathan gave a sharp nod before moving in front of Dustin, ducking down to meet his eye. Tears were streaming down his face. 

“I’ll sit with him,” he promised. “Go ahead and go with Argyle, okay? I’ve got him. He won’t be alone.”

“But I—“

“I’ve got it,” Jonathan repeated, voice cracking. Dustin nodded and fell limp against Argyle’s side. He trusted Jonathan. Steve did too. 

When they got to the car, Robin was still thrashing. Murray was practically sitting on her, a bruise forming over his eye. 

“Where’s Jonathan?” Hooper asks sharply when he sees them. 

Argyle gestured helplessly. “Sitting with him. Dustin said…he didn’t want to leave him alone.”

Hopper's eyes were defeated, and he swiped a hand across his face before getting up and heading towards Steve and Jonathan without another word. 

Dustin climbed into the backseat, where Murray finally had Robin pinned. She was yelling herself hoarse. 

“You—you asshole, get the hell off of me, you can’t just fucking—you don’t get it, he needs me, he hates being alone, he hates it, he fucking hates it and he’s never alone. As long as I’m here he’s never fucking alone so let me go—“

“Robin,” he croaked, holding her arm. She whipped her head towards him immediately, eyes wide. 

“Henderson. Dustin, tell this asshole to let me go. I need to go to Steve. We can’t—I can’t leave him alone, please, he needs me there—“

“He’s not alone,” Dustin promised around the lump in his throat. “Jonathan’s with him. Jonathan’s gonna stay with him, he won’t be alone.”

She shook her head. “No, he needs me—“

“Jonathan will take care of him,” he repeated. “He’s Will’s big brother, he’s good at taking care of people.”

She finally stilled, eyes on Dustin. “Jonathan has him?”

He nodded, face wet, and she finally relaxed.

“Jonathan’s good,” she said. “Steve…Steve likes Jonathan.” She laughed, sharp enough to make him flinch. “He’s a sucker for pretty boys.”

Argyle made a low, hurt sound, like he’d been punched. Murray moved to the middle seat, relieved that he no longer had to pin her down.

In a move that they should have seen coming, she opened the door and bolted. 

“Shit!” Murray barked, and ran after her.