#platonic steddie

[munson-blurbs]

Sometimes I think about how Steve never had a man in his life who respected him.

His dad doesn't respect him.

Tommy didn't respect him; he was just a hanger-on who would do anything to climb the popularity ladder.

Dustin looks up to him, but it's not the same as having the respect of his peers.

Keith barely tolerates his presence.

And then Eddie comes into the picture and tells him that he knows he's no longer the douchey King Steve who reigned at Hawkins High. Who has real, raw, vulnerable conversations with him. Who sacrifices his life to save Steve's. Who listens to Steve, cares about what he says--not out of obligation, but out of respect.

Idk man. Whether you ship Steddie or you just like them as platonic friends, I think that's kind of beautiful.

[bangaveragewhitewine]

Hearts are wild creatures

Dad!Steve Harrington x Mom!Reader

Halloween, 1999

A simple worn-before couple’s costume and drinks with friends. Kissing like teenagers and hushed voices. You and Steve, a night to make up for lost time before Halloween-morning with your two little girls.

Takes place two years after soft slow, morning glow

Word count: 6.4k

Contents: Parent!Steve & Reader. Explicit (18+) - oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (reader is on birth control, but wrap it up, friends!). Breeding kink. Parental domesticity - Steve & Reader have two kids, mention of a difficult pregnancy, sickeningly sweet domestic fluff.

Author’s note: This started as soft Halloween-flavoured domesticity and then I imagined Steve dressed as Johnny Castle… we couldn’t not go there. 

Thank you @specialagentmonkey for proofreading and being wonderful. And for watching ST from the start with me! And thank YOU, dear reader, for being here. I hope you enjoy it!

Tucked away in the Chicago suburbs, your little house matches its companions in the cosy cul de sac; the residents of Elm Crescent had transformed their homes and gardens into a Halloween Wonderland as exciting for the adults as it was for the kids. You knew you had made the right choice buying your first home here. 

The garden has been prepared for a night of costumed trick-or-treaters, the path flanked by two homemade sheet-ghosts and leaves raked in vain leaving the green lawn clear for those that fell since yesterday afternoon. Four carved pumpkins guard the house from their spot on the front steps, arranged from largest to littlest - one for each of you.

Inside, tissue-paper ghosties with wobbly marker-drawn smiles made by tiny hands float on lengths of thread, seasonal art projects take pride of place in the kitchen, and paper bats guard the stairs from their hanging place on the spindles. Nothing too scary to frighten a four and nearly-two-year-old, all brightly childish orange and purple and green, smiling instead of scaring. 

Halloween fell perfectly in ‘99 - a Sunday night for tricks and treats meant that you and Steve could make grown-up plans on Saturday. A simple worn-before couple’s costume, a competent and willing babysitter, and drinks with friends in a too-loud bar that you all left early to get pizza and a cab home. It was later than you had stayed up or out in months, maybe years, and you both felt almost giddy with excitement. Far from the late and boozy Halloween nights of your early years as a couple, it was exactly the night you and Steve had wanted. 

Back home, your Johnny and Baby costumes were barely folded before you crawled into bed together and kissed like off-the-leash teenagers, keeping your voices and giggles low while your babies slumbered peacefully down the hall. 

After paying the babysitter from across the street, making sure she got home safe, neither you nor Steve could resist a peek at the two sleeping girls when you got home, both sentimental (and a little broody again) as you held each other gazing at their little dreaming faces. Beth with her bunny-teddy pillowing her cheek (reminding you to wash it soon with lavender detergent and steaming hot water) and Ava, sweet little Ava, starfishing in her crib. Your tiny girl takes up so much space in your hearts, pulls attention in every room she enters with her big brown eyes and honey-blonde hair; she is your little cherub. 

You had missed them on your night out, tried not to count the minutes since you had left or until you got home to them. Steve had felt the same, but you knew they were safe and (hopefully) sleeping. So, you tried and succeeded in letting yourselves be distracted by your brilliant little group of friends, strong drinks and each other - all of which came easily, with warm cheeks and loud laughter, stolen kisses while your friends pretended to take offence that you loved each other more than them. 

Now, at home in your cosy little bedroom, Steve’s hand skates upward, feeling the dips and curves of your body as your lips lock in a needy kiss. Smiling against your mouth, he greedily swallows the soft noise pulled from your throat. His hand finds its home, cupping your breast through soft shell-pink satin, as the other holds your hand pinned to the sunshine-coloured cotton sheet.

Two kids later and he is still utterly obsessed with you, in love with all of you - especially the bumps and marks of motherhood that came with each perfect girl. You had spent most of the night tucked to his side, pretty pink contrasting his tight black shirt and jeans. Robin had tried to sit between you at one point and you had been hauled onto the warm sturdy throne of Steve’s lap, his chin on your shoulder as he argued with his best friend over whether they should do karaoke or shots next. Except for quests to the bar for more drinks and a few trips to the bathroom, you hadn’t been without his warm touch since you left the house. He would have held your hand while you peed if he could, would have accompanied you to the bar except your friends forced you to be apart ‘for five fuckin’ minutes, dude.’

His lips skate lower, abandoning your kiss-swollen lips to nibble your jaw and seek out that spot on your neck while his thumb presses firmly against your nipple. Your brow creases in pleasure when he finds it; the quiet gasp ‘Steve’ is whispered into his hair, edging toward a whimper. 

“Mmhm? M’here, baby.” Tipsy from a lower alcohol tolerance and drunk on you, Steve’s voice is hot against your neck. 

Your fingers wrap over his own as he presses you into the mattress, his black Calvin Klein’s straining with need, with want. Your own underwear have been damp since his hand settled on your thigh in the cab at the start of the night. 

Your fingers slide into Steve’s hair, directing him back to your lips as his thigh slots snugly into the apex of your spread legs. 

“Yeah? There?” he murmurs, smiling cockily.

It had been far too long since you had time alone like this; too tired after work or parenting, one or both of you needed to dry tears and check for monsters after a bad dream just as hands began to wander beneath the covers. 

Your hips roll, electrified, grinding on the firm bulk of his thigh. “Please, Stevie…” 

You both know you could get off like this and if he thought that was what you really wanted - what you needed - Steve would let you. He would gladly watch you come undone, guide your hips and be whatever you need him to be. But neither had forgotten your hot whisper against his ear as Eddie carried a tray of drinks and shots back to your table earlier; the way your lips grazed Steve’s neck as you so quietly asked him to fuck you into the mattress when you got home. 

You had watched his eyes blow wide and pressed a rose-pink kiss to his cheek (warm and blushing) while your friends placed bets on when Baby Harrington the Third would be coming. 

Steve peels himself back, kneeling on the bed as he palms himself at the sight of you. You feel saliva pool under your tongue as you rake your eyes from his thighs, over that substantial bulge, and up his furry chest. He is nothing short of breathtaking, and Steve thinks just the same of you. 

Your fingers slip over the nude lace of your underwear, biting your lip when you brush over the damp spot visible even in the low light from the bedside lamp. You don’t play long, already too worked up, and push your panties down toward your thighs with a lift of your hips. 

Steve takes over, like a baton-pass, and eases your legs up against his chest with your feet against his shoulder. Your underwear is slipped off and thrown carelessly behind him, somewhere on the floor. He presses kisses to your calf, a curving path up over your ankle and the top of your foot before each leg is laid down gently on either side of his spread knees. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows before pushing yourself up to sit and meet Steve for another kiss; it is smiling and sweet and a little dirty. Your fingers hook into his waistband before taking a greedy handful of his unfairly pert behind, making him laugh against your mouth. 

“You going to give me what I want?” you murmur, kissing his chin. Your other hand slips down the front side, fingers wrapping around to squeeze his hard length as you look up through your lashes. 

“Anything. Everything.” Steve’s eyes flutter closed and he cups your cheek in one huge hand, blindly bringing you back in for another kiss. 

Your voices are just loud enough for each other to hear in the golden glow of your bedroom. You miss the days when you could be loud, but wouldn’t change it - take a day trip to the past perhaps, when you didn’t have to restrain your desire to a quick fuck after dark, or during nap time while the washer and dryer run in the background like white noise,

Maybe in a few weeks, before the craziness of the holidays, you can stow away to a hotel for a night or two and cash in on the babysitting offer from Aunties Robin and Nancy. 

But tonight is perfect nonetheless. It’s perfect when you shove Steve’s briefs down his thighs and when his fingers skate over your back to undo your bra (before it joins your underwear and his on the floor). You lay back, taking Steve with you, and hook your leg over his hip and bring him as close as you can all over again. 

All there is right now is you and Steve. You’re well-practised enough to be quiet. 

Covetous hands palm over hips, fingers thread into hair, pulling each other close and closer still. Steve finds his home between your thighs and leans over, dipping to kiss you as his fingers press and tease, push inside you with care. His fingers stretch just right and curl up to seek out the place that makes you drool. 

“Lemme have a little taste?” he asks against your mouth, smiling when a whine catches in your throat. “Yeah? Can I?” 

“So greedy.” Your cheeks are warm and crease when his smile sets you off. 

“I am. I can’t get enough of you.” His straight white teeth nip your lower lip, a bite he soothes with his tongue. “I think you love it…” 

You gasp as his fingers curl again before he withdraws them, and watch as he licks your wetness from them. 

Steve winks as his lips trail lips lower, over your chest and the softness of your tummy, your hips and the places on your thighs that jiggle a little bit. Steve presses a feathery kiss to your swollen bud before licking out his tongue to part your lips

Steve’s prone to getting sidetracked down there - not that you would ever complain about your husband who loves to go down on you - but you have been thinking of being railed by him since last Wednesday. 

The begged-for ‘little taste’ quickly becomes so much more.

There’s nothing ‘little’ about Steve - not his hands or his thighs, his biceps or his manhood, or his heart. His appetite for you certainly is not little or lacking either. With his hand on your thigh, the other on the cheek of your ass, he makes your thighs tremble with a few skilful licks and the soft suck of his mouth. His nose rests and nudges against the pudge of your mound, darkened eyes fixed on you as he flicks his tongue.

He watches how your jaw drops, the crease in between your brows. You feel dizzy, anchored only by the weight of his hand spreading your thigh higher, wider for him. 

The burning want in your belly flames hot and bright as Steve buries his face between your thighs. His tongue presses firm and flat, encouraged when your fingers slide into his hair to keep him ‘right there, oh!’ 

Silenced by your own hand, you feel that white-hot tight-winding feeling as his fingers slide home again. The sound of his wet mouth on you sounds so loud, the same volume as the throb of your heart, the blood rushing in your ears. A whimper of Steve’s name is stifled, a high choked-up noise in your throat as his scalp burns from tugging fingers. 

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, amped up and tightly wound after a night of teasing and wanting, and the long groping make-out and grind in the kitchen after the babysitter left.

Steve’s solid weight keeps your hips low to the bed, even when your back arches sharply.  An expert at your pleasure now, seeking it out and making you see stars every time, he keeps up the pace and pressure, with his fingers and tongue. He knows what you need, how you like it - never stale, never disappointing. 

Your body attempts to curl up on itself, feeling too good. Slowly, carefully, Steve drags his mouth to kiss your shaky thigh before making his way back to lie alongside you. His damp fingers, wrap around his diamond-hard length to give some sort of relief. 

Glowing and giggly, you gaze up at him and drag Steve in for a kiss. “Knew you were a greedy boy.” Your voice is quietly breathy, shaking with that post-orgasm wobble as he laughs against your mouth. 

“Got carried away. Sue me.” His voice is a low murmur. 

Cupping his cheek, you skate your thumb along the bone. He’s so gorgeous, gold-toned in the nighttime light. Your fingertips brush the moles on his cheek as Steve kisses you again; beneath the musk of you on his tongue, you can still taste the lingering whiskey notes from your night out.

Pulled right up against him, you feel the hard and soft of Steve’s body, the fur of his chest and thighs. He found two grey hairs on his chest earlier in the year which almost caused an existential crisis - only solved with your tweezers and a tonne of kisses and promises that you would still adore him when every hair on his body was shiny silver. 

“You wanna be on your back or front?” he asks, squeezing your side.

The question makes that inferno in your tummy begin to burn hotter again. You think of how good it feels when he’s behind you, thighs slapping against the back of your own, the way he stretches you and hits that place deep inside. And yet, you need to see him tonight - you are so dreamily in love with him that not having his lips on yours might just make you expire. 

“Back. Pass me that cushion?” 

As you get comfy, Steve takes himself in hand again and settles himself between your legs. His non-busy hand runs through his hair - still a glorious mane into his thirties, despite a few shorter cuts over the years - and you are reminded of the pretty-boy you fell for almost a decade ago.

Steve catches you smiling and palms your leg as you settle on either side of his hips. He matches the little grin and dips forward to kiss you, nuzzling your noses together. 

“What’s got you smilin’ like that, huh?” he asks, running the head of his cock through your wetness before tapping it at the top. 

He watches your lashes flutter, the way you bite your lip. 

“Just thinkin’ about you, handsome,” you murmur, “You always make me smile.” 

He grins and kisses you again, both feeling like young loves again despite the aches and pains and the mortgage and the two kids sleeping down the hall. “I fuckin’ love you,” Steve whispers. 

“I love you,” you murmur back, running your fingers into your love’s hair as the other hand grabs his wrist. “Please? Been waiting all night, Stevie…”

His lips melt the put-on pout and together you guide him inside. The stretch of him has got easier over the years, well practised at love-making and fucking like rabbits alike. He’s gentle when he needs to be, rougher when you both want it like that. 

“I’ve got you, baby. Sorry for making my girl wait,” he murmurs as he slides all the way in.

Eyes fluttering closed at the stretch-and-fill, Steve starts off with a slow grind that makes your jaw drop. He murmurs quiet swears at how warm-wet you feel around him, squeezing him tight as his hips draw halfway back before going all the way in again. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, and braces one hand by your head with the other splayed wide on your side. Your hips lift with him, legs propped high to open you up wider for him. 

For a scant second, you want to ask if his back hurts - he pulled something at basketball drills last week and you had massaged on Tiger Balm morning and night for a few days until the twinging stopped. The hard flick of his hips makes the question vanish from your mind, his cock dragging and hitting just right. 

“Oh god,” you whisper-gasp, jaw hanging open.

“I know, baby. M’sorry it’s been so long. M’a bad husband, huh? Leaving my poor wife needy and un-fucked.” His voice is hot and rough against your cheek, breath tickling your ear as he finds his rhythm. “Gonna make it up to you, yeah?” 

You squeeze the back of his neck, giggling. “Make it up to me all you want.” He palms over your hip, hiking it higher before leaning over you again. “Fuck, Steve. Feels so good.”

Your eyes dip to the gold chain hanging around his neck, watching how it sways in rhythm to how he’s fucking you. You bring your hand to where it rests against his neck, guiding Steve’s mouth to yours again. His breath huffs hot against your lips, tongues sliding in a dirty kiss. 

The wet click of parting lips sounds loud in Steve’s ears when you break away, moaning his name against his chin when his thrusts hit deeper, harder. 

“Shhh, I know you wanna be loud, sweetheart. I know you feel good.” His voice is like lava dripping as he kisses your neck. 

You pinch your lips together, the moan caught in your throat comes out as a high hum. 

Steve is so hard. His pants felt too tight all night; half hard since he saw you in your little pink dress. It only got worse, harder not to ask you to meet him in the bathroom, when you sat on his lap and toyed with the back of his hair, whispered in his ear before slipping into conversation with Nancy about something totally different. 

The slick-tight-hot feeling, the way you pulse around his cock, makes that tense coil of pleasure low in his gut wind tighter. His chest feels like 

You can’t help but fall a little more in love with him, hypnotised by the swinging gold chain, the circles he rubs against your hip and the way his styled hair falls over his forehead.

Squeezing your thighs around him, you bring your legs up and tilt your hips higher. Steve adjusts the stance of his knees and slows his thrusts to a deep grind, the tip of him brushing your cervix. You can feel all of him pressed right up against you, inside and out. 

“Oh fuck.. fuck, Steve.” Your voice is thin and strained, like a thread about to snap. 

“Yeah, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispers, biting down on his own lower lip. “God, you’re so pretty. So sexy.” 

The air in your bedroom feels humid and heavy, like a thunderstorm, waiting for lightning to crack and split the sky, waiting for a downpour. 

Steve moves his hand from your hip, gliding over your pelvis to feel how he makes you bulge just a bit before his fingers begin circling your sticky-damp clit. Just quick enough, firm enough, mean enough. 

Your back arches, quiet voice babbling with incoherence at how intense it feels. “I’mgonnacomeohgodstevestevefuck…”

“Come on baby, come for me. Let me feel it,” he pants, hitting deep and hard. He’s so close, barely holding on to himself. 

You hold him tight to you as you come, fingers tugging in his hair as the other hand claws and digs into the meat at the top of his ass. 

Overwhelmed, a sweet shock of release hits you like lightning and opens the floodgates. 

Steve holds you just as close, anchored to each other. Whispering hot words of praise against your mouth, he gazes into your watery eyes sparkling with tears - he makes you feel that good. 

“Oh baby, I’ve got you. You okay?” he asks, so tender. He leans over you, wrapping his arm beneath your lower back as the other braces his weight along his forearm. One huge hand cups your face and wipes your tears. There’s mascara smudged beneath your eyes, and you look beautiful. 

There’s that smile he loves; wobbly and lovely. A giggle-sob bubbles from those sweet kiss-bitten lips. “Fuck, Steve..” 

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Want me to pull out, is it too much?” 

You shake your head against the duvet, your hair a mess. “No, no. Don’t... Wanna feel you.” Your voice is slurred, love drunk. 

That makes him throb. He kisses you again and runs his nose along yours. “M’close,” he whispers, beginning a slow-dragging thrust inside your soaked and still-fluttering body. 

You can see it, how close he is, and feel it in how his rhythm has faltered. His brows pinch, smearing wet kisses to your shoulder as he tucks his face into your neck. 

“I’ve got you, Stevie. You’re so good,” you whisper, stroking the back of his neck. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.” 

A grunting groan is smothered against your shoulder as Steve stills and shudders on top of you. His hips pump slow and hard as he comes inside with your name on his lips, making you shiver too. 

His weight settles, sinking you into the mattress in the best way. This is exactly what you had missed so much. As much as you fervently adore actually having sex with Steve Harrington, there is something so special about lying with him in the afterglow. 

Sweat-sticky and breathless, you stroke through his hair and press your lips into his hair. The hairspray scent lingers, clinging to the scent of shampoo beneath the smoke from cigarettes bummed from his bad-influence-best-friend Eddie. There was something about the smoke-tinged kisses that made you feel extra feral for him on the way home. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” you whisper, laughing softly when his sigh tickles your neck. 

“But you’re so comfortable.” 

Lifting his head, Steve smiles all pink-cheeked and dozy. “So beautiful too,” he murmurs, inching forward to kiss you. 

The wet noise from below makes you both laugh like teenagers and you take your turn to hide your face. 

“You take your birth control today?” he asked, easing himself up and out of you slowly, carefully. His eyes can’t look away from where he drips from you. 

“Mhm. Sorry, big boy.” You grab a tissue from the bedside table, wiping yourself gently before you mess up the duvet cover. You had both agreed, after having Ava, to wait a few years before adding to your nest again - it had been Steve’s idea after your less-than-easy second pregnancy. For a man with a bit of a breeding kink and a dream of a family the size of a field hockey team, he was wonderfully considerate. 

He kisses you again before standing to find his pyjama pants; he leaves out one of his sweaters and a pair of shorts for you too - sleeping naked was a dangerous game with two small kids. 

Clean-faced and exhausted and happy, you curl up together in bed after a few sleepy kisses and a playful argument about who would get up with Ava in the morning. As if Steve would ever miss a chance to let you sleep and steal the morning smiles from your youngest all for himself.

“You won’t even hear me sneak. M’a ninja,” he murmurs tiredly against the back of your neck and you can feel his smile. 

“If you say so, ninja boy,” you mumble back, dragging your joined hands up for one more kiss before slipping into a deep, peaceful slumber.

Sunday. Halloween. The best day of the year for your little girls - since the last best day (their Daddy’s birthday in late July). 

Ever a fan of Halloween, and autumn in general, you always wanted to bring your girls up to be excited for Halloween as soon as September began. Still so little, with Play-Dough minds, they had begun to catch on to your excitement and followed soaked it up. Beth especially, four with an expansive imagination, was excited about dressing up and eating candy and watching “Hogus Pogus” with you after dinner. 

Your parental body clocks ring at seven despite the late night. 

You wake to Steve creeping out, blindly bumping into the dresser with a quiet ‘shit’ as Ava calls out for him. This morning his presence was required to brush fat tears from the little one’s pink cheeks and kiss the damp paths they left behind until she was smiling again. 

You hear the youngest babbling as Steve carries her quietly downstairs, hoping she won’t wake you or Beth. The throb of a minor hangover and post-sex ache drags you back under the covers and into a light doze. 

You have another thirty minutes and some change until Beth wakes and realises she misses you, deciding to sneak in before even letting her Dad know she was awake - she wanted to see you hear about your Halloween party with her uncle and aunties and remind you that the best day had finally arrived.

The creaky hinge on the door alerts you - a reminder to ask Steve to show you how to oil it properly this time - you peek an eye open to watch the four-year-old sneak over to stand by the bed on her Dad’s side. She would be content enough with just seeing you, comforted in the knowledge that you were home to spend the day together; her face lights up when she spies you peeking over Steve’s pillow, your hand raised in a little wave. 

“Hi Mommy,” she whispers, dimples showing her delight. 

“Hi Bethie,” you whisper back, beckoning her into Steve’s vacant spot next to you. 

You open the covers to let your big girl in. She folds herself into you for a hug, her head against your chest. 

“I missed you. I missed you sooooo much,” she says, face turned up to look at you like she is a sunflower and you’re the sun. 

“I missed you too, baby.” Her little face cupped in one hand, you press kisses to her forehead and cheeks, her little nose. 

You make a tent big enough for two beneath the covers, lying on your sides facing each other until your giggling makes it too warm and your tummies rumble for the special Halloween breakfast you promise. (You curse yourself a little for that last glass of wine, trying to remember what exactly you had promised until Beth reminds you about the pumpkin-shaped pancakes). 

Wrapped in your soft dressing gown, you follow Beth down the stairs, hearing Ava’s happy-baby babble in the kitchen as she eats her half-banana breakfast appetizer. The decorations look a little silly and rough around the edges in the morning light, but still, your little home feels like a perfect pocket of happiness.

Beth jumps into the kitchen with an excited-but-not-very-spooky ‘BOO!’ for Steve. 

When she sees him, nursing coffee and Advil with a messy bedhead and tired smile, he quickly becomes Beth’s golden light source as her beaming face turns to him. 

“Woah! You scared me!” he says, clutching his heart before dipping to scoop her up. 

You try not to laugh at his Dad-groan and the cracking crunch of his knees as he stands, instead shuffling in your slippers to Ava in her highchair. 

Her hands bash on the tray, smushing banana with fierce excitement as you peck kisses all over her pretty cherubic face. 

Beth leans her head against Steve, playing with the string of his hastily thrown-on hoodie as she tells him about the dream she had and how he has to take lots of pictures of her costume later to send to your extended family. 

Spotting his bare feet on the kitchen tiles, you slip into the laundry room to find a pair of socks for him to wear. Resistant to ‘old man slippers’, you tuck them into his front pocket as you peck his lips and move him and Beth away from the counter so you can start on breakfast. You steal a sip of his coffee, wrinkling your nose at the lack of sweetness before shooing him and Beth to sit with Ava at the table. 

“What was Uncle Teddy dressed as?” Beth asks, head against Steve’s chest so she looks at him upside down. 

“He was a vampire. But he just wore his normal clothes and some silly teeth.” Steve rolled his eyes dramatically - he had seen vampire Eddie all the way back in high school when he was dealing instead of drinking, and again when you all used to drink and party the night away in your early twenties. Yeah you had dressed as Baby and Johnny before, but you had all boo’ed at Eddie when he showed up in the ultimate low-effort costume. 

“Oh. Okay. Vampires is sca’wry though, Daddy!” Beth reminds him. “You and Mommy didn’t go as scar'wies. What about Bobin?” 

You laugh quietly at the nickname Robin has had since Beth started speaking, and her simple way of humbling Steve about his own costume (and yours). 

“Robin dressed up as Elton John. You know the song you like, Benny & the Jets? She dressed up as the guy who sings that song. And Can You Feel The Love Tonight. He sings that too.” Steve is a wee bit distracted, nibbling the chunk of crushed banana offered from Ava’s fist.

“Bobin was Simba?” Beth’s eyes are wide, excited. She doesn’t seem bothered about her lack of scary costume, only yours.

“No babe. Elton John, he’s a singer. She had big glasses on and a sparkly jacket. You know he sings... Um. ‘Rocketmaaan, burning up his fuel out there alone..’ you like that one. I’ll find the tape later.”

Ava squeals in delight when he sings, so Steve indulges her a little more.

As you mix up pancake batter (adding a little food colouring to make them orange like pumpkins), and take two Advil for the dull throb in your head, the soundtrack of Beth and Steve’s conversation makes you smile, interspersed with Ava’s chirpy shouts for attention, her little contributions to the conversation. 

You glance back at the little tableau of Beth on Steve’s lap, his hood pulled over his messy hair (a pair of sunglasses and he would look just the same as your hungover mornings in your first apartment together). His spare hand strokes Ava’s hair, twirling the crushed baby-curls at the back of her head and tickling her chin and neck to make her giggle. 

Beth joins you after a little while, standing on a chair to help mix the batter and supervise your pancake-making with little bits of commentary. 

“That one looks a w’ittle bit squished, Mommy. Daddy can have that one.” 

“Thanks, Beth.” Steve’s voice is muffled behind his second cup of coffee. 

“Welcome Daddy! Mommy, can I has that nice stuff on?” 

“On what, sweets?”

“My pancakes.” You can hear her eye roll, the implied ‘duh, mom’ (thanks Auntie Max). 

“The nice stuff? Syrup?” 

“Yeah! Sir-yup.”

“Yeah okay. A little bit.” You flip another pancake, turning the chocolate chip face down onto the heated pan. “Do you want bacon on the same plate or on the side?”

“Um. Can I dip it?” 

“In the syrup?” 

“Yeah, in that nice stuff.”

“Yeah, you can try dipping it. Who taught you that?”

“Teddy.”

You smirk, “Steve, did you hear that? Betty’s taking after her Uncle’s eating habits.” 

“Which one?” 

“Ed. She’s gonna dip her bacon in syrup.” 

“That’s my girl.”

Beth giggles and turns carefully on the chair to look at him. “No Daddy, you does it all over! You got to dip-dip.” 

“Can you show me how?” Steve asks, he smiles over at her, looking so handsome with the baby standing in his lap now. 

“Magic word?” 

You snort-laugh, tucking your chin to your chest as your shoulders shake; you just about slide the pancake onto a plate without incident. Beth has one hand on her hip, a mini-Steve for sure, giving as good as she gets.

“Are you practising your magic for later?”

“Nooo Daddy. You has to say p’weeeeeeze-uhhh.”

“Okay-uhhhh. Please, pretty princess Bethany, can you show me how to dip my bacon in syrup?”

Bethany considers it and looks at you with a cheeky smile. “Yep! I show you, Daddy!”

You wink at her before helping her pour more batter onto the hot buttered pan, praising her careful steady hand. 

“Beth, can you grab a bib for Ava please?” You’re almost done and know you’ll get it served up quicker if your helper has a special task. 

“Yes! What colour?” her hot cocoa eyes shine with delight to help as you help her down. 

“Surprise me. We have a Halloweeny one for later, so any one you like for breakfast time okay? Dealer’s choice.” You dot a kiss to her head before watching her scurry to check what colour her sister's sleep-suit is. 

“There’s a laundry basket in the living room, babe. The bibs are on top. Do you need help?” Steve asks her, lifting Ava back into her chair before going to get forks and plates and glasses of juice for the table. 

“No tank you.”

You lean back against Steve’s warm chest and tilt your head for a kiss. “Hi. I missed you.” 

“Missed you more,” he murmurs, squeezing the tender spots on your hips as he kisses you slowly and sweetly. A proper kiss for the morning, tasting of coffee and shared banana and sneaked chocolate chips. 

Your fingers brush his jaw, feeling stubble beneath soft fingertips. He won’t shave today, you hope he’ll string it out a couple of days into the work week. 

After another hip-squeeze, he picks out cutlery and you notice how he squints into the drawer. 

“Glasses.”

“Getting them next, chef.”

“No, your glasses Stevie. You’ll get a headache.” 

“I have a headache. I’m blaming Rob for it.”

“It’ll get worse if you don’t put your glasses on, babe.”

You watch him mimicking your correctness with a scrunched nose as he picks out forks and knives. He knows you’re right but he doesn’t have to like it.

Steve gathers everything for breakfast, including Beth’s syrup. 

“I’ll get them in a sec,” he murmurs behind you, waiting for Beth to return with a bib first. 

You smile to yourself and start plating up. 

“Beth, how are we doing on the bib?”

When he looks into the living room, Steve sees Beth with every clean bib around her as she decides. 

“I can’t find one to match!” Beth’s face is a scowl.

“Babe, it doesn’t need to match. Just pick. Please.” Steve tries to be patient. Ava is getting impatient without food or distractions in the kitchen and he hears you chatter to her to try and help. He’s usually good at the diffuse and distract technique, a pro after quasi-parenting more than half a dozen teenagers.

“Can we do a-a spooky one?”

“Um. Sure. This one is kinda autumny?” He holds up the orange and yellow floral one, tiny flowers and green leaves. 

“But Ava’s jammies is pink Daddy! It doesn’t go! It has to be spooky and match!” Beth’s voice turns whiney, a pout on her face. 

Steve pops his head back into the kitchen where Ava is entirely unimpressed with being ignored as you bring over the plates. “Beth would really like it if Ava could have a Halloween bib now, and if it matched her pjs too…”

You watch him suppressing an eye-roll, knowing it would just hurt his head. He looks exactly like Beth. 

“Um, check the laundry room? I left a couple out.” You peek around Steve and see Beth with all of the bibs around her. “Sorry, I should’ve just told her to check in there.” 

“No, it’s fine. Beth, pick those up please and come wash your hands.” 

Steve smooches Ava’s cheek as he passes and palms your side with a squeeze. He picks up a purple bib with bats and a white one with ghosts - he is hopeful that one will suit Beth’s specifications and taste.  He has this Dad thing down to a fine art.

The bigger girl has clean and almost dry hands, pyjama sleeves rolled up her arms by your gentle mom-touch. Her face splits into a grin when Steve presents the choices.

“Yes! The pur-pellll!” she squeaks, bouncing on her feet. 

He dips to pick her up, barely suppressing the dad-groan - but it’s quieter than last time. “My little fashionista, huh? Everything’s gotta match?” He pecks her nose, making it scrunch like a bunny’s. 

When Ava’s got her bib on, distracted by cut-up pumpkin-shaped pancakes and berries (with one slice of bacon), Beth sits in her seat at the table in awe of the jack-o-lantern faces you have created. 

“Spooky enough, babe?” You sip maple-sweetened coffee and smile at her little happy face. 

Her hair is spilling over from her messy bedtime ponytail, which comes more loose as she nods furiously. “So cool! Tank you Mommy!”

“Super cool,” Steve agrees, winking at you across the table. “Thanks, baby.”

You’re just as sexy to him now, as you were last night with your messy hair and the well-loved teddy-print dressing gown. He notices his glasses case by his coffee and you wink back at him over the top of your mug.

With his world more in focus, Steve watches you smile at Ava as she shows you her chunk of pancake. You kiss her cheek, nuzzle into her milk-and-honey scented neck telling her you love her. 

You feel like the littlest one hasn’t had your full attention this morning and you have missed her, feeling mom-guilt to the hilt. Steve will take on dish-duty once the plates are empty and bellies are full, giving you time with your girls. 

There are a few last-minute decorations and chores you want to make time for in between kid-friendly movies, dressing the girls in their costumes - Beth as a tiny cute witch and  Ava as a cosy pumpkin. The girls are your number one priority today, making core memories for them and taking one hundred and one photos for the albums. Ava is still too little to really soak it in but she takes enough notice to nourish her little mind. 

You and Steve will fill out the candy for trick-or-treaters, and hold little hands when the girls go door to door in your own cul de sac. When they’re tucked up in bed, you will pick through the candy leftovers and curl up to watch one scary film followed by a non-scary one as a balm before you sleep. 

For now, you sit back and share a loving smile with Steve, your socked feet brushing beneath the breakfast table. 

What a treat. 

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️ 

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Hawkins University

The College Sweethearts Saga

~ The Munson Edition ~

Eddie Munson never thought he'd become so close to someone who is so atrocious at guitar and works as a professional snitch, but he can't help but find himself more and more intrigued by you.

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: strong language, bullying, mental health, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

chapters containing smut marked with +

Chapter 1: Eddie

Chapter 2: Bug

Chapter 3: Eddie

Chapter 4: Bug

Chapter 5: Eddie

Chapter 6: Bug

Chapter 7: Eddie

Chapter 8: Bug

Chapter 9: Eddie

Chapter 10: Bug

[lukas-dusk]

AU with Steddie and Platonic Stobin, who meets the AU where Steve is a girl, and so in this universe it's Stobin and Platonic Steddie

[navnae]

Even if Steve and Eddie would’ve never ended up together in season five I still am a strong believer that they would love being friends and enjoy each other’s company. Steve would finally have someone just own age that he can do normal “dude” stuff with and it wouldn’t involve him getting beat up every time. Eddie would’ve brought an amazing side of Steve that no one really sees in the show and he’d put all his walls down because he’s just that comfortable around Eddie. I would kill for a scene of Steve hanging upside in Eddie’s bed while reading one of Eddie’s magazines and Eddie is just in the mirror putting on some eyeliner as he nods his head to the faint music playing on the radio in his room. Both of them going shopping together and forcing the other to change their style for once and in the end they start to like their new looks. Occasional movie nights with the biggest bowl of popcorn and the whole night is just filled with laughter from both of them. That’s the least the duffer brothers could’ve done for Steve and Eddie, It’s unbelievable.

[fandoms-in-law]

How I'll Play

Summary: Steve's grandmother sends him an investment and big collection of gifts for his 21st. Small thing is, She thinks he's her Granddaughter.

Authors Notes: Playing with the idea I had yesterday over Steve liking Sylvanian Families and only playing D&D with them, Thanks to @frostfairysteve for the information on when they came out. (also for the fact I know those 2 D&D races XD)

Continued in Come Play With Us

/\/\

Steve family are all rich and all distant. He remembered once as a child a family reunion being arranged and being scared of all the strangers there. Apparently his father had 3 brothers all older and all with their own families, but also his grandparents had invited second cousins and cousins once removed and for whatever reason everyone had made time for it.

Looking back at the event now, Steve was pretty sure the main reason everyone turned up was that they were hopeful this could be a chance to increase the inheritance they could get from his grandparents. He doubted that would have been effective for anyone and is relatively sure that except for occasional cards on holidays and birthdays still considered most of his relatives as strangers.

It did encourage him not to have too much fun when taking himself to a city for a weekend away, simply because he didn't want to accidentally seduce a relative into a one night stand without knowing it. The joys of things that teach safe sex for the strangest reasons.

He didn't usually think about his family beyond that. They were just people who shared in his gene pool, just like the parents he barely saw any more.

Except his Grandmother seemed to challenge that when his twenty-first birthday came bringing a delivery with a note from her.

'Dear Steven,

I cannot recall why your mother decided on such a name for such a charming girl as you were at the family reunion so many years ago, but for all my grandchildren I've brought investments in a company as well as a large collection of the things they make as they turn 21.

For you, and your fascination with figurines and dolls that I remember, I chose to invest in Sylvanian Families. They're almost as adorable as you were when young.

A very happy birthday to you and remember to manage your investments wisely.

Your Grandmother,

Antoinette Harrington

He had to read the note 3 times before bursting into laughter. He knew his family was distant, but apparently they're distant enough to have changed his gender in their memories, although he does recall for a short time enjoying dolls before his father dictated otherwise and forbid him from them.

It had only been recently, and only around Robin, that he'd began allowing himself to be curious over typically feminine things beyond his hair since that time, but it was flattering to think that somehow he'd acted feminine enough the only time he'd met his grandparents that he was remembered as such.

“Steve? You remember we said we'd go shopping together for birthday looks for tonight, right?” Robin asked, letting herself in since he was laughing enough he hadn't heard her knocks. Steve had tried to insist he could pick her up, but according to her, he shouldn't be driving everyone around on his birthday, so she got Eddie to agree to play chauffeur for the day.

“Read this and tell me I'm not imagining things, Robbie. Please tell me I didn't misread that. Also I need to see just what is in these packages before I go anywhere.” Steve grinned over at her, waving at Eddie as he leant around the door.

Eddie came over too, leaning over Robin's shoulder as she read since Steve hurried into the kitchen for scissors to open the parcels.

There were 4 big parcels but as he got the boxes open only 2 of them had big items in them, what appeared to be dolls houses and furniture. The rest were filled with solid dolls, slightly velveted of every kind of animal he could think of, all in families, or separate babies that matched one of the family groups and dressed in adorable slightly old fashioned looking outfits.

“You're her granddaughter now. I'm sorry Stevie, but for a gift this big and the investment that was also in the envelope behind this is big, you have to be female from now on.” Robin teased, snickering herself and sitting on the floor beside him to see everything he was pulling out.

Steve shrugged a little. “You tell me what dress size I should get and I'll be the belle of the ball for the party Joyce is insisting on throwing.”

“How long ago was this reunion? Any you're happy about that?” Eddie asked, visibly stunned, but not annoyed or any reaction that left Steve concerned.

“Thrilled. Robbie and I have been trying make-up looks and I was already wondering if I should try a skirt tonight. This seems like a sign that I definitely should.” Steve grinned up, answering the second question first. “And I honestly don't know. I think I was maybe five, possibly younger. Definitely wasn't allowed dolls for too long before my father banned them.”

Eddie shook his head, coming to sit beside him too finally, “Cool, I'll kill the boys characters in the next session if anyone says anything about that. If you do get a dress, that is.”

Steve's grin gentled to a smile, before a thought struck him at the allusion to D&D. He'd seen their figurines before, had let them host Hellfire at his home a few times now, enough even Eddie's bandmates were beginning to relax and suddenly thought he wouldn't might playing in a similar way with these cute guys. “Hey, you can get animals walking and talking in D&D, right?”

For a moment Robin and Eddie blinked at him, then Robin started cackling. “I bet even if they don't Eddie is about to figure out how to, Stevie! Hell, I'm joining in too.”

Eddie blinked at her too before slowly nodding, “Normally called other things, like Procyons and Avalis but yes, there are bipedal intelligent animals in D&D.”

“Tell the party to start making characters like that to play and help me and Bobbin to do so if you want me to play a campaign. I'll only play if these are the figurines used for everyone.” Steve decided, “And look, you even have sets for places we can go to make the mapping even more exciting.” He gestured to the buildings, and some shop sets that he'd pulled out of the packages but hadn't opened unlike a few of the families that had caught his eye.

“Fucking Hell, Yes! I can do that! Can I stay here to plan the campaign too, check what I've got to work with?” Eddie's smile grew slowly but was soon almost wider than they'd seen it before.

Steve nodded, “Definitely. And this just means we're all more excited for getting back from the shopping trip I was promised. I'll go get ready to head out.”

As he walked away Robin started to calm down but one look at the pout Eddie had over being told he couldn't jump straight into planning set her off laughing uncontrollably all over again.

[j0nathanby3rs]

i’m thinking SO hard about bilingual eddie at the moment,,,,

driving w/ steve and robin and he gets such bad road rage he just slips and starts swearing in french (took it as a class to suck up to the teacher n get the room for hellfire) ((but he learned the curses from his mom’s side)) and steve is SO confused while robin just laughs

and steve Rich Ass Parents Dragged Him To Paris Once harrington just hits him with a very quiet

“…quoi?” (“…what?”)

n eddie without looking away from the road just shouts

“TAIS-TOI PUTAIN DE VACHE ESPAGNOLE”

(“SHUT UP FUCKING SPANISH COW”)

and robin LOSES it

[boffeeceans]

Robin, pointing at Steve: That's my wife

Eddie: Excuse me?

[prettyboybyers]

Bitches be like "Eddie Munson is a sex god."

And this is Eddie Munson.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Okay, but Steve would love being a caregiver to little!Eddie. Especially after Vecna and he is hiding out at Steve's house. The trauma becomes too much, and Eddie regressed for the first time. I think Steve would really love that Eddie would choose Steve as his caregiver. Little!Eddie would call him Mama, which probably has to do with Big!Eddie having called him that as a joke. Little!Eddie meant it, though. Steve just loves it.

[uglypastels]

content warning: i literally only have 92 words written so far and no idea for a plot but i hope to write this up quickly this week

[things-of-strange]

Diabetic Eddie Munson

Type One Diabetic

Diagnosed at age twelve

One vial of insulin cost about two dollars (About five dollars now)

Hates carb counting, especially when eating traditional food

Billy and Steve will help them with injections if their hands are too shakey

A lot of students and teachers at Hawkins High assume their scars are due to drug use.

Every time Hop picks them up, he takes them back to the station. While they're waiting in the cell for Wayne to pick them up, Hop makes them do homework and occasionally checks their blood sugar.

Eddie doesn't know but Hop makes sure to keep a desk drawer full of snacks and juice in case their blood sugar is low. He always tells them that it is part of his lunch that he doesn't want.

[schrijverr]

Life Is Ours, We Live It Our Way 2

Chapter 2 out of 18

Genderqueer Stevie with platonic soulmates Robin and Eddie living their best queer life.

In this chapter, Steve and Eddie recuperate in the hospital, sharing a room. They form a trio with Robin and agree go to the city after Eddie and Robin have come out to each other. The three of them go to a gay club and Steve first encounters words that will stick with him.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: hospital, Steve's childhood mention, brief AIDS crisis mention and the overhanging period typical homophobia of the 80s

~~~~~~~~~

Recovery

When he wakes, he is in the hospital.

It’s not the Hawkins Hospital, Steve learns. It’s a government secret lab hospital and he and Eddie are both under observation for their bat bites. Seems the scientists took Robin’s fear of other dimension rabies seriously.

But he only learns that later, because when he wakes up, Hopper is standing over him, looking thinner and pale and bald. Which is confusing, because he should be dead, but if Steve is also dead that makes sort of sense. Then the hurt sets in and he croaks: “Ugh, I thought the afterlife wasn’t supposed to hurt.”

That makes the Hopper above him laugh softly, before he disappears and comes back with a glass of water, helping Steve drink. He says: “You’re not dead yet. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Yeah, Stevie, don’t be dramatic,” a shit eating voice comes from the bed over and there is Eddie in all his annoying glory. He is barely upright, a bandage around his neck, but he looks alive with the comic on his lap his hair up in a bun and out of his face.

“Eddie?” he asks, now ever more confused.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Eddie replies with a grin.

“You’re alive?” he has to check, because from where he is sitting, he is in a random white room with two people, who should, by all logic, be dead. It’s not doing much to convince him he’s still alive.

“I am,” Eddie assures him, face turning soft. Then it turns into a teasing grin. “I didn’t swoon like a damsel, because I didn’t idiotically let my wounds get infected, by not cleaning them and telling everyone I took care of it.”

And now that Steve looks back, that might not have been the smartest move, but they had to keep going and they didn’t have time for that, so he had assumed he’d be fine. Wrong, apparently. Still, he defends himself: “At least it wasn’t another head injury this time. I still have to get the vision in my left eye back from the last one,” before he remembers no one knows about that.

“No one mentioned you being blind in one eye, Steve,” Hopper frowns.

Immediately Steve backtracks: “I’m not blind! It’s just a bit blurred there, like a smudged window or something. Nothing to worry about really.”

Hopper sends him a look that tells him, he doesn’t believe Steve for a second. “I’m mentioning that to a doctor,” he tells him, before walking away.

Belatedly Steve yells after him: “You haven’t even explained how you’re alive!” but Hopper is already gone, so now it’s just him and Eddie in the weird white room. He sighs as the door falls close, then turns to Eddie. “Where even are we, man?”

“I don’t know, some sort of lab,” Eddie shrugs. “I’ve only been awake for a day, haven’t heard much. Max broke a bunch of bones and her vision is fucked, but she’s awake and gonna be fine. The other are fine too, by the way.”

And Steve hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that until Eddie told him. He lets out a breath as if it’s punched out of him and says: “Thank fuck.”

Eddie fills him in that Eleven (who is totally epic, by the way) killed Venca through her powers with the help of Jonathan, Will, Mike and a new friend of Jonathan’s named Argyle (who is the chillest dude on earth).

Before he can learn more about what went down, however, the room is filled with doctors and he is subjected to all sorts of tests for awhile.

He falls asleep again when the doctors are done, too exhausted to stay awake, despite the fact that it can’t have been for more than an hour or two. When he wakes up again, almost everyone is there again. Steve has never gotten this many hugs in his life before and he doesn’t care that the pressure hurts, because they’re all there. They all made it. Steve didn’t fail.

Finally he gets fully caught up with everything that has happened, before he gets lectured because Hopper blabbed about his vision in his left eye. Which is rude. But he has only been under for four days, which is good to hear. He’ll recover completely, just has to do some (a lot) of physical therapy for his muscles, which were eaten. Yay.

“We’ll be therapy buddies, Stevie,” Eddie grins and it should be fucking stupid and he’s only telling him that to be annoying, but after everything, he can’t even be mad about it.

Eddie is part of their group now. He is already on Steve’s mental list of people to check on and his headcount list. Trauma bonding, Robin called it, Steve just calls it natural clinging. So, he just smiles fondly and says: “I’ll cheer to that,” before spilling the cup of water he holds up, which makes Eddie’s startled look morph into a snort.

They – Eddie and him – have to stay in the hospital for quite a bit and since Robin is practically glued to Steve’s side, the three of them get impossibly close, just from continuously being cooped up together.

Robin and Eddie together are mildly terrifying. Especially since they’re both out for Steve’s blood for no reason. They have mercilessly teased him for his six nuggets speech, then dragged him for not cleaning his wounds and now they’ve moved on to his ridiculous flirting and mom behavior among other things.

“Yeah, yeah, see if I drag you out of hell again,” Steve pouts, though he isn’t actually mad, after Eddie makes another overprotective mom joke. He can’t help that he wants to be sure Dustin drank enough, alright, the kid had been crying.

“I want you to know that I am grateful. However, I don’t remember that at all,” Eddie tells him casually. “For all I know, Dustin dragged me out.”

“Dustin?” Steve repeats indignantly, even though he doesn’t remember either.

“Yeah, man,” Eddie grins cheekily.

“You think Dustin could have dragged you out?” Steve raises a brow.

“I don’t know, the kid has potential,” Eddie shrugs. “I mean, if you really wanna prove it, do enlighten me about how difficult it was to carry me, like a damsel.”

And now Steve has to confront that he can’t, so he doesn’t have much proof that he carried Eddie out, other than being told and a few flashes. It’s not like he can recall it perfectly. And judging by the grin creeping over Eddie’s face, he knows that too. So, Steve just groans and says: “Rob, best friend rules, back me up.”

Robin, who had joined the teasing, but smartly retreated before Steve set his counter offense, looks up from her magazine. “Alright, normally, I wouldn't have dingus’ back.” “Rude.” “However, it was pretty cool, so I’m helping.”

“It was?” Steve asks, genuinely curious. In this weird hospital room, he has been feeling more and more settled, thinking he can be alright with being the mom-friend and temporary badass, as long as he isn’t in charge of everything. He’s this close to finding himself, he can feel it. But he hasn’t stopped to think of how others perceived his actions in the Upside Down.

In a way it’s surprising that it hasn’t crossed his mind, since has spend most of his life trying to conform to what others want to see. A giddy sort of pride bubbles in his chest.

And because Robin is practically his other half, she puts together the same line of thinking pretty quickly. She gets off her chair and plops down on his bed, giving him a hug as she grins, ruffling his hair (which has not been kept as perfect in the hospital, so he doesn’t even pretend to care).

“Okay, am I missing something?” Eddie asks from the other bed, raising an amused yet confused eyebrow at the duo.

They share a look, before Steve shrugs: “It’s a long story.” It’s the type of thing that Steve isn’t ready to tell yet.

Robin backs him up: “Yeah, you have to get tortured by Russians and barf together, before sharing secrets on the bathroom floor. It’s a whole initiation process.”

“God, I don’t even want to know,” Eddie grins, catching that he shouldn’t push, before switching topics. “So, Robbie, you were gonna tell us about Stevie’s heroics.”

“Ah, yes!” she lights up. “Like, it was obviously stupid, because you were injured as hell and I practically got carpet burn watching you slide down on your knees when you saw Eddie. I’m glad I missed them cleaning that wound, because yuck.”

“Robin,” Steve pouts. He’s not here for a lecture, though he’s getting less sure if he wants to hear about him embarrassing himself, which is sounding more likely.

“Sorry,” Robin says. “Anyway, I was freaking out and Dustin was freaking out and Nancy is trying to keep us cool, which wasn’t easy. It’s good Steve used to be lifeguard, let me tell you, because I could not have broken your ribs like that, Eddie.”

“You’re the one, who broke my ribs?” Eddie exclaims. “Those hurt!”

“It can happen during CPR,” Steve immediately defends.

“Still rude,” Eddie tells him.

Before Steve can argue CPR techniques, Robin cuts in: “Boys, boys, it doesn’t matter if Steve broke your ribs and gave you mouth to mouth, you were fine.”

“He did?” Eddie asks, voice almost a squeak as he blushes, though Steve doesn’t know why.

“A person needs air,” he shrugs casually.

Robin looks between them for a second, having a look that Steve doesn’t catch onto for once. She then quickly moves on: “Whatever, Eddie was breathing again. Nancy ordered us through the portal and when we turned back Steve was climbing through with you over his shoulder.” She gives Eddie a look, that she turns on Steve. “And then you both fell flat on your face and neither of you were conscious.”

“That doesn’t sound very heroic,” Steve tells her tentatively.

“It wasn’t in my opinion, Nancy calling you an ambulance all cool and collected was much better than you two idiots,” Robin shrugs. “But it took us all the days before you woke up to get Dustin to stop gushing about how cool it was. We assumed neither of you wanted the reminder.”

“Henderson was gushing?” Steve asks, right as Eddie groans: “Not again.”

He looks at Eddie and blushes. He knows it sounds conceited, but being cool for the kids has been one of the things he has done that he has chosen himself and actually likes. And after the past year, he can’t help but be glad the kid still likes him. But he can imagine how it sounds to Eddie, who probably knows him as egotistic King Steve.

“Yeah, it was all ‘oohh Steve was so cool carrying Eddie like he weighed noting’ and ‘oohh Eddie saved my life, he’s a hero!’ It was getting kinda annoying,” Robin shrugs.

“Dustin said that?” Eddie asks and Steve feels happy for the guy, he deserves the kids looking up to him after he what he did.

Robin realizes that too after she sees Steve proud look, because she smiles: “Yeah, all the kids look up to you, Eddie.”

“You deserve it, man,” Steve smiles.

Eddie hides behind his hair, concealing an embarrassed look and his blush. Part of Steve wants to see him, but for now he just contents himself with grinning at him. Before the conversation drifts to other topics.

A day after Hopper comes in, still looking gruff, but Steve is happy to see him, especially after being in his shoes during one round with the Upside Down. So, he greets; “Hey, Hop. How’re Joyce and the kids doing? The move back going alright.”

“They’re doing great, El is still a bit clingy, but that’s to be expected,” Hopper tells him, fondness creeping in.

“It’s still weird to see the police chief and him not immediately arresting me,” Eddie comments as Steve tells Hopper how great it is to hear that.

“Yeah, yeah, better get used to, because I have good news for both of you,” Hopper says.

“You do?” Steve asks, while Eddie just raises an eyebrow like he thinks it’s nonsense.

“I do,” Hopper says. “I have been reinstated as chief of police and coordinated with Dr. Owens on a cover story for what happened here. With that, we’ve gotten Eddie cleared of charges, so no longer wanted for murder. You’re actually quite the town hero.”

“Really?” Eddie says, eyes shining like he can’t believe it.

And Hopper confirms telling them about how Eddie has supposedly saved a bunch of kids from the murdering Henry Creel, who has been following in his father’s footsteps. He concludes: “That also means your uncle can see you now.”

“He can?!” And screw shining, Eddie is sparkling and Steve thinks it’s a great look on him.

“Yeah, kiddo, he’ll be by later,” Hopper assures him.

Steve lets them have a moment, throwing out a “Nice, dude,” before saying: “It’s not that I’m not happy for Eddie, but why is this good news for me?”

Hopper turns more careful and he softly says: “Well, your- Once we manage to contact them, your parents could come too. I’m sure they’re concerned,” and Steve knows that years as a police officer making house calls for noise complaints and his last stay at the hospital means Hopper knows there is a reason they haven’t been able to contact them.

From beside him, he sees Eddie frown and he wants to hunch in on himself. He’s more ashamed that the other now knows he’s so much of a fuck up that his own parents don’t even care, despite what Eddie said in the Upside Down. He can’t bring himself to be sad about them not even picking up the phone.

Tiredly, he suggests: “You can try calling his secretary. If he isn’t fucking her, she usually picks up the phone.”

He has never been so blunt about it with Hopper, not to mention someone like Eddie. Though he supposes that after everything he can get away with a little whining about his parents, even if Eddie has had it worse. They’re on that level, right? He hopes so, because he’s too tired to care.

There is a beat of silence, wherein Hopper gathers himself. He awkwardly coughs and says: “But that is not the only thing. Here’re your glasses, kid. You’re allowed to drive again with those. And don’t think, I won’t pull you over if I see you behind the wheel without them.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Steve promises, smirking cheekily as he opens the case to hide how much he hates this.

It’ll be another thing that chips away part of him that fits with the vision Hawkins has of him. Steve Harrington can’t have glasses. It’s a sign of weakness, until you have gray hairs and it’ll be distinguished, his father used to say. And yeah, he has been working on caring less about being the image his parents try to maintain, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.

Dutifully, he puts on the glasses anyway, because he knows Hopper expects him to. It is nice to see clearly with his left eye again, the right one only being a dummy lens, but he knows he must look like an idiot. To throw off suspicious, he puts on his best ‘The Hair’ smirk and asks Eddie: “So, how do I look?”

He expected some funny insult or dramatic joke-y exclamation back, but instead Eddie just smiles and says: “Pretty as always, Stevie.”

And he likes that more than he should for some reason.

So, he shoves the feeling away and tries to focus back on Hopper, while also ignoring the looks he is throwing them. Steve is great at pushing stuff down and smiling. He has his charms and his mother has always pressed him about how important it is to be a conversationalist, so it’s easy for him to drag Hopper into another mindless conversation about everyone.

Finally, Hopper leaves and while Steve is glad to drop the small talk, he knows Eddie well enough to realize that the moment Hopper is gone, he will ask his questions with little regard for how intrusive they might be. His mother would probably cluck and call him uncivilized, but Steve appreciates the bluntness most of the time. Appreciates that there is no double meaning for him to miss or mistakes to make.

“Your parents haven’t tried to buy their way into the secure lab, hospital, thingy?” Eddie immediately asks.

“Why would they?” Steve shrugs, too tired to lie. “It’s not like they came last time, when they were very much allowed in. Besides, I haven’t spoken with them since right before Christmas. How would they know I was in here?”

Against all laws of the universe, Eddie falls silent for a moment. Then he casually says: “Oh that suck, sweetheart. Your parents are assholes.”

He says it so matter of fact, like that is the only natural conclusion, instead of Steve not being worth the trouble as they often like to remind him. He just tells him that what he is going through sucks and that his parents are assholes.

It’s the best response Steve could have gotten, so he just snorts and says: “Yeah, you’ve got that right.”

They share a smile and Steve now gets to see the depths of Eddie’s face better. It’s a good face, he decides. Handsome. Then immediately disregards the thought and starts flipping through one of the comics Dustin left last time he was here.

When Wayne finally comes by (the next day, the second it was allowed. Steve tries not to think about it), he is asleep.

Well, he wakes up halfway through and then decides to pretend to be asleep to give them their privacy. And tries not to look too much into the why of it all when he feels like crying while listening to Wayne repeat that he is so happy that Eddie is alive, how much he worried and how much he loves him.

It’s stupid for Steve to feel jealous about that care. He knows it is. Steve has never had to worry about money like Wayne and Eddie, never had to be put into the care of an uncle. He had everything growing up. He shouldn’t be feeling like this.

But when Wayne talks, you can feel the pride in his voice. You feel it in your bones that he cares so fucking much about Eddie. And you can feel that he loves Eddie no matter what, there are no expectations there, besides trying to be happy.

And Steve just wonders what that’s like. He remembers Robin telling him about just trying things until you find something that sticks, something that you like. Eddie knows what he likes and Steve wants that for himself too. He remembers that trip he and Robin were supposed to take before it all went to shit again. He wonders if Robin will still be up for it once he gets out of here.

Once he leaves, Steve ‘wakes up.’ He’s pretty sure Eddie doesn’t buy it completely, but neither of them mention it.

Before the strange vibe has time to settle between them, Robin comes bustling in already talking about her horrid shift at Family Video and how Steve needs to get better soon, before she will die of boredom.

Steve feels relief at seeing her, the person who has accepted him and is always there for him when he needs a shoulder. His soulmate, honestly. He can’t help his smile. “I’m sorry for my slow recovery after being mauled, Buckley.”

“Apology accepted,” she grins back cheekily. “Anyways, I heard you got your glasses and I need to see you in glasses, because you are, like, King Steve. Not anymore, of course. I mean, I haven’t seen your hair this bad since watergate, which is saying a lot. But you still have that image and I need to make fun of you for it now, even though you’re probably gonna be annoying and still get babes with them and shit.”

Her word vomit is so welcome and he loves her. He knows she will bully him for the glasses, but she won’t mean it. He always knows she doesn’t mean it. That’s why she’s allowed to do it.

So, without further ado, he grabs the case on his nightstand and slips the glasses on, before turning towards Robin and letting out a deadpan: “Tadaa.”

She keeps a straight face for all but three seconds, before she’s cracking up and calling him a nerd, blabbering about how the tables have turned. He allows her a moment to have her fun, before huffing: “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I was less clumsy than you, even with shitty depth perception, so don’t get too big of a head.”

“Was dangerous to drive before this?” Robin squeaks.

“I didn’t know that it wasn’t. I thought it was fine,” Steve defends himself. “Besides, better that we find that out now than on the road. Though, I’m sorry we missed out spring break trip to the big city. You were looking forwards to it.”

“Not your fault, dingus,” Robin informs him, her tone gentle now.

“What were you going to do in the city?” Eddie asks from the other bed.

Because of course Eddie will ask, it’s only natural and Steve is panicking, because he can’t very well tell Eddie that they were planning on finding the gay people, so Robin can be herself for a change. So, he just looks helplessly at Robin, begging her to take the lead.

Robin gives Eddie a calculating look, before saying: “To visit my friend, Dorothy,” and as she says it, it feels like more than just a cover up.

A feeling which is only cemented by Eddie’s eyes turning as big as plates, before he’s grinning and saying: “Really? I know her like that too. Is she friends with both of you?”

“Just mine,” Robin answers. “But Steve is cool with her.”

And Eddie nods like that means something to him, like that whole conversation cleared something up. So, confused Steve asks: “Was that something I was supposed to grasp or was that nonsense you made up to mess with me?”

The two share a look and Steve feels a little left out, before they come to a conclusion and Robin explains: “It’s gay code. Covertly asking someone if they’re gay.”

It takes a second for it to click, but then he sees Eddie’s nervous face. Immediately, he assures: “Oh, that’s cool, Eddie. Hope you have better taste in men than Robbie does in women.”

“Oi, I have great taste, Steve!” Robin protests.

“Muppet,” is all Steve responds, before they’re both laughing again, this time Eddie confused, though Robin assures him, she’ll explain later.

But with Eddie in the know about it, Robin can openly talk about her plans. She sounds so excited and Steve smiles fondly at her, already vowing that they’re going this year one way or another even if it kills him. And with Eddie also part of the scene, he offers up: “You should go in June. Lot of gay shit is happening then. They’re commemorating the riots in New York then. They happened in ‘69, I don’t know if you heard about them.”

“I was just born then, so no,” Robin tells him, before asking for more information.

So, Eddie talks to her. He tells her about the shitty police, the arrests, the drag queens, the transsexuals, the sex workers, the black community, the poor. How they stood up. How they raged and rioted. How they showed themselves for who they were, daring anyone to say a thing.

And Steve knows he isn’t part of that. It isn’t his history. But he can’t help but look up to these people, wanting to tap into their strength and how they found themselves and built a community of people like them, uncaring of what others think. He admires them.

They remake their plans right there in that hospital room.

The three of them are going to the city in June, Steve is driving because Eddie’s van is in need of many repairs after it had been left on a random parking lot while he ran. They’re going to rent a motel room, sharing to save costs and Robin has already declared it will be the most fun she is ever going to have.

A small part of Steve can’t help but agree, already looking forward to the getaway. Just the three of them. A few days of not being responsible for the kids or worrying, but in the city having fun like people their age are supposed to have.

It’s something to look forward to and it’s what helps Steve and Eddie as they get better and better until they are released.

Robin is still a frequent guest along with Dustin and the other brats, but Wayne also comes over more and Steve can’t pretend to be asleep each time. It’s quite obvious the man doesn’t trust him near his boy and with Steve’s last name and reputation, he can’t really blame the man. Though he can’t deny that it hurts to not have the approval of someone so kind and accepting.

He throws all his charm Wayne’s way. Tries to think of what would impress a hard working man like Wayne, while also taking in account his love for Eddie. So, he tries to talk about sport, asks after work and showing genuine interest, praises Eddie where he can within his NDA and shows a little bit of his own weird side (bragging about the kids).

However, he wins Wayne over without intending it, by not noticing the man while he talks with Eddie.

They’re finally allowed out of bed, the nurses trusting them not to rip open their stitches – a right they had to earn back after a stint where they tried to visit Max and subsequently did just that. And Steve is making the best of it by sitting on the foot of Eddie’s bed, who had the worst injuries out of them and for whom moving hurt more.

He’s sitting with his legs crossed holding a pencil and being very confused while surrounded by books. Wayne appears in the doorway behind him, right as Steve asks: “Can you read the passage to me again? The words keep jumping and I don’t get it, what do the classes mean again?”

Naturally that means Eddie has to launch into a detailed explanation about everything again and Wayne recognizes it as his fantasy game that kids at school made fun of him for. But there he stands and watches the Harrington kid listen with rapt attention, asking questions and smiling fondly at the theatrics of his nephew.

Once Eddie is done, Steve says: “Dustin’s a fighter right? I’d like to be his backup when I play. What would you recommend?”

“Paladin, holy warrior with an oath of protection, it suits you,” Eddie tells him without hesitation and Steve takes his word for it with only a little blush and duck of his head.

That’s when Eddie notices his uncle and calls out a happy greeting. Steve immediately straightens up and is already apologizing and telling them he’ll get out of their way, much to Eddie’s disappointment, Wayne sees, so he says: “You can stay, son. I don’t mind. You seem to understand his rambles better than me.”

“Oh, uhm, thank you,” Steve replies softly. “Dustin, he talks about it a lot, so I had some background. They wanna play once Eddie is allowed out of here and I thought I’d surprise them by joining, so Eddie is teaching me. That way I won’t make a complete fool out of myself.”

Wayne nods and tells him that’s awfully nice that he’s willing to try and just like that Steve has his approval. All he had done was listening to his friends, because he likes listening to his friends. It makes them happy and he feels less alone. It’s just him and that is enough for Wayne.

It feels a bit like a revelation.

His own parents don’t show, though he gets a card from France on one of the last days in there. The handwriting is that of Stacy, his father’s secretary. He knows because he has seen it on all his birthday cards and Christmas gifts.

Their walk out of the lab/hospital is victorious with Max joining them on her crutches, which will likely be permanent, or at least partially. The three have to go back for physical therapy, Steve the least and Max the most, but other than that, they’re free.

And it truly does feel like freedom. The Upside Down likely is no more, this time more certain than the ones before. They have won and now they get to move on.

Steve is luckily also right that the others will be delighted when he joins their DnD game. Even Mike doesn’t grumble about it, which is a huge win.

In the end, he doesn’t know if he’s dismayed that he actually genuinely likes DnD or if he’s happy about it. After all his complaining about the nerd game, it feels a bit like karma that it’s fun. But he also tried something for himself and liked it.

Yeah, he can argue that he is doing it because Dustin has been begging him for literal years to try it, but he knows that’s not it. He planned to do only a one shot, because he knows the kids find their first session after a stint with the Upside Down the hardest. So, he just wanted to be moral support and then leave them to it.

But it’s just fun. Actual fun.

Eddie is a great DM and all the kids try and help Steve when he’s confused about it. And when he rolls an 18 at the last second and slays one of the beasts, it feels good to celebrate with them. It puts his need for protection into something else, ensuring he can slowly let go of the hyper-vigilance in his real life, because he gets bursts of it in fiction.

So, they play DnD, hang out, watch movies and force Eddie to study so much he complains about his eyes hurting. And slowly the summer creeps near.

When June is there they decide to go Thursday the 26th till Monday the 30th. Since Eddies van still isn’t running (lack of funds, time and willing mechanics), Steve is driving and the three of them pile into the car with all their stuff.

Before they leave Steve checks in a million times with everyone, making them promise to just call if they need anything. They call him a worried mother, but he knows they appreciate it and the joke has long lost its sting. If he is their mom, then he is. He likes the role.

He is a protector and he knows he can’t bring his bat, no matter how much he wants to. But if he has a small knife with him that’s no one’s business but his own.

The car ride there is infuriating. Eddie is a horrible navigator, especially since he is in the backseat and he argues the entire ride with Robin about the radio station that should be playing. They take three wrong turns and Robin nearly pees her pants again before they can find a gas station. And it’s the best car ride ever.

It feels like the post-graduation trip Steve didn’t have and now he gets to do it with a few of his favorite people.

As expected, the motel is very shitty and they have a room with two queens. They agree that no hookups are to be brought to the room, before Robin exclaims that it is too hot to share a bed, even with Steve. And after spending weeks together in a hospital room, neither Steve nor Eddie care much about having to share.

That first night they go to a Chinese restaurant, none of them have ever tried the food and Steve is excited about it. This is what the trip is about for him, trying things and finding stuff he likes. He finds he likes Chinese food, but he likes it more to hang out with Eddie and Robin and just doing stupid youngster stuff.

During the next day, they mostly fuck around town, taking dumb pictures, making fun of hats in stores, finding the perfect mug to bring back to Wayne and checking out all the record shops, because they ‘just don’t have good music like this back in Hawkins, Stevie.’

For the evening, Eddie knows a gay club in town and drags them with them. This, Steve isn’t all that sure about. He hasn’t partied since his King Steve days and crowds aren’t his biggest friend nowadays, but this is for Robin and Eddie, so he gladly goes along. He knows this is their night, so he offers to be the designated driver, which is on brand after their stint with the Russians. Still he has to ensure them over and over again that it’s fine.

The club is strange in the best way. Steve mostly just lets his eyes glide around, trying to take it all in, but being overwhelmed by new stuff everywhere he looks.

He’s sure that he and Robin at least look like newbies and very out of place, but Eddie moves like he’s at home and it makes Steve wonder how long he’s been coming here.

They get drinks, Steve coke, Robin and Eddie beer with fake IDs that aren’t well checked. For now they stick together, trying to get used to the crowd of people. They watch as couples grind on the dance floor all sort of combinations, dressed in clothes ranging from day wear to practically bikini’s to evening gowns.

Steve loves it.

He doesn’t feel like going into the crowd himself, but happily watches as Eddie drags Robin onto the floor and spins her around. The two doing goofy moves and grinning like idiots. They’re obviously having fun and being themselves, and Steve is so glad for them, because this is their place and they deserve to be happy.

His eyes glide over more in the crowd. There are women in full suits, but also in short dresses, some are kissing, other just talking. He lets himself watch them, but doesn’t focus on them in the same way he didn’t focus on Robin like that after she came out to him.

It’s the men that catch his attention more. Mostly the outfits. They’re so diverse and Steve just wants to take it all in. A majority are nothing like what Steve has been told a man should be. There are men dressed in crop tops and short shorts, men with glitter in their hair, men without shirts and even men in dresses and full makeup.

He recalls Eddie telling him and Robin about drag queens and figures that they must be that. A part wants to go up and talk to one of them, feeling strangely drawn to the dramatic faces, sequins and glamour, but he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself either, so he stays to the side.

On the dance floor, Robin is dancing with a beautiful babe. She catches his eye for a second and lets hers grow wide with an ‘are you seeing this!!!’-look, which makes Steve smile. Eddie is in the midst of it, dancing like a maniac and somehow making it look good. He grins fondly and shakes his head, before making his way back to the bar for another coke.

Tonight is busy, so he has to wait a moment before he gets his drink, which isn’t really a problem for him. He’s content to stand there and lean on the bar.

A girl in a white dress shirt with a checkered slipover slides in next to him at the bar and orders a drink for herself, before noticing Steve and smiling. If it were another context, he might assume she was flirting, but instead he just gives her a friendly smile back.

“You new here?” she asks him, leaning close to be heard over the music.

He laughs a little and blushes, asking: “That obvious?”

“Not that much, you just look a little lost,” the girl smiles kindly.

“Got to admit that I am a little,” Steve tells her. “I’m just here for my friends. To support them and stuff. Plus, I have a car. Steve, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Brooklyn, call me Brook,” she replies. “It’s nice to see someone show up, like that.”

“It’s nothing,” Steve shrugs. “We’re from a small town, I’m just happy to see them smile and be free like this.”

“Ahw, that’s so sweet,” Brook says, leaning in and showing her cleavage a little. “Hopefully you have time for a conversation with little old me, maybe take a bit of a break from watching your friends.”

And Steve has been purposefully not flirting, but it really sounds like she is flirting with him. So now he’s a bit confused. Not wanting to make the wrong move, he says: “Sorry, if this is, like, totally inappropriate to ask, but are you flirting with me? Are you also here as support? Or am I reading this wrong?”

Brook looks at him for a second and he thinks he fucked up here, already on the point of apologizing when Brook grins and says: “Oh, you really are a newbie. Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t offensive. Glad you checked. But, yeah, I was flirting, I’m bisexual.”

“Bisexual?” Steve repeats, he has never heard that word before.

“Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re new to the scene in it’s entirety, you look at home here,” Brook tells him. “Bisexual means being attracted to both men and women. Though some people still use it to say they’re both female and male, so always good to ask when someone says. But most are shifting transgender or transsexual with that last one. People are still looking for a better term for people who are not a man nor a woman in zines and stuff, but don’t worry about that.”

Confused Steve looks at her grin, a million thoughts race through his head, but all he manages to form coherently is: “You can do that?”

“You can do whatever you want and be whoever you want with whomever you want,” Brook informs him cheerfully.

From the other side of the bar a group of women call her name and she looks genuinely apologetic as she scribbles something on his hand (where she got the pen, he does not know) and says: “If you have more questions, call me. It was nice meeting you, Steve.”

“Yeah, you too,” Steve tells her a little distantly, realizing what she left is a number, right as she fully disappears into the crowd again.

Once she is gone, he sips his drink and stares into the void before him with unseeing eyes. He didn’t even know those were things that existed, but Brook just threw them around casually, like it’s a natural part of the world. Common. Just there, existing.

It makes his head spin a bit. He tries to tell himself it’s because it’s a lot of new information to take in, he remembers how he felt after he heard Eddie talk in that hospital room. However, another more hidden and smaller part of himself whispers that it sounds nice.

Steve has never fully identified with what is expected of being a man. For a long time, his father would yell at him, telling him he wouldn't raise a sissy or a fag. But Steve couldn't help that he liked making sure his friends are okay more than roughhousing with them. Couldn't help that he liked it when his mother took the time to fuss over him and his hair, instead of making his little suit dirty playing in the grass like the other kids at functions.

Besides, he likes cooking after it had become a necessity when microwave meals and take-out were tiring. He had to learn how to do his own laundry, his own dishes and keep the house clean, because his parents expect it to be clean, but fired the help. And if he finds those tasks soothing than that is only a good thing.

And it has never been his fault that his father doesn’t understand that he hates the idea of being a career man. That he wants to stay home, be married and stay home for his kids. To give his home life like his current house doesn’t have, be present like his parents weren’t, care for his kids because he knows how he needed it.

He has always been too softhearted for his father, for his friends, for what society had planned for him. But here in a dingy club in the big city with strangers and his two best friends, he feels like that doesn’t matter much.

It’s both freeing and terrifying.

Before he can spiral on the terrifying part, Eddie practically falls into the bar next to him, grin so wide it can split his face. “You enjoying yourself, Stevie?” he asks.

“Yeah, man, this is fun. People here are nice,” he replies. “I saw you talking with someone earlier, that work out?”

“Nah, I’m not really looking for a hookup,” Eddie shrugs.

“Okay, but if you are and you’re stopping yourself because you’re scared with everything that’s been happening, I do have condoms and I can give one to you no problem,” Steve tells him seriously, because he just wants his friends to be happy.

Eddie gives him a look that is both amused and a bit awed, making Steve a bit uncomfortable, if he’s honest. Then Eddie smirks: “You truly are a mom, prepared for everything. Why do you even have those with you in here?”

“Maybe because I watch the news and I want you to be safe, dick,” Steve rolls his eyes. Then shrugs: “Besides, some people are bisexual, I got a girl’s number.”

“Only you can get a girl’s number at a notorious gay club,” Eddie laughs. Though he ignores the first part of what Steve says, he can tell the other is touched, but he doesn’t push it. The crisis that’s been going on isn’t exactly a topic of conversation for a night like this.

Soon Robin is joining them, her eyes wide and bright, face flushed. Loudly and happily she exclaims: “I kissed a girl, Steve. Me! And I touched a boob.”

“Hell yeah, Robs,” he grins, giving her a high five as Eddie snorts before also congratulating her on her first gay kiss.

She is so pumped that she drags the both of them to the dance floor jumping around like a maniac and her elbows hitting Steve multiple times. But she’s laughing and Steve is laughing and Eddie is grinning like a fool too and making sure Robin doesn’t hit too many people. They must look like idiots, but none of them care too elated and happy.

It’s nearly four when they stumble out of there, all of them high on life. They’re giggling, Robin and Eddie because they’re tipsy and Steve because he’s just so happy. He has pushed all he’s heard tonight to the side to be in this moment, for once not worried about the future.

They crash onto the beds when they get home. Robin fully dressed, Eddie shedding his jeans, before passing out. Steve is the most lucid, he actually changes into pajamas and brushes his teeth then falls on the bed next to Eddie.

He just lies there for a second, listening to the breathing of Robin and Eddie. It’s peaceful and quiet and it settles his nerves like nothing else.

Beside him Eddie is warm and, as Steve had discovered in the hospital, a mover. Though maybe not. Eddie shifts for a few moments, but then his hand hits Steve’s chest and before he knows it, Eddie has gripped the shirt and dragged him close, like it was nothing. He traps Steve with his arms so that his head is pillowed on Eddie’s chest, his legs pinned by Eddie’s.

Steve can’t help but hold his breath, waiting to see if Eddie will do anything else. Move again, maybe. But it seems that holding something – holding Steve –is enough to settle Eddie. His deep breaths fanning over the top of Steve’s head.

With the peace returned, Steve lets out a breath and relaxes. A part of him tells him it’s weird to cuddle with friends, that real men don’t do this. But he pushes those thoughts away. He and Robin cuddle often enough and it’s always soothing, he can cuddle up with Eddie – who is his friend, thank you very much – and it is just a friend thing.

Right at that point the word ‘bisexual’ pops in his head again.

Immediately Steve pushes it away, he isn’t gay, or bisexual. Or, at least, he doesn’t think so. But then his mind replays Eddie tugging him into the hug like he weighed nothing and a warm flush goes through his body.

He tries to tell himself it’s because he’s embarrassed. He’s just being moved like some sort of rag doll that’s a blow to his masculinity. That’s all.

However, his mind betrays him yet again, wondering when Eddie got so strong. His hold on Steve is tight and though Steve could escape if he wants, it would be a struggle. He knows Eddie has been working out more with the physical therapy (and to be better should something else happen. Good old trauma, their old friend).

Steve lies there and tries to decide if he finds it attractive. It may just be admiration for muscles that Steve wants for himself. That’s normal behavior. That’s what he should feel.

Again, his mind betrays him by whispering how he doesn’t want that at all, that it felt safe to be dragged around like that. He likes that Eddie tucked him into his side like it was nothing, that he sunk into the mattress with peace once he had Steve in his arm, as if he could only rest with Steve in a protective hold by his side.

Before he can decide whether he likes the muscles or how it makes him feel, the hour takes him and he falls asleep.

Steve wakes up to giggling and then a bright flash. He groans and buries him deeper into the warmth that is shielding him from the world. However, the warmth shakes a bit and he hears a rumbled laugh above him. The noise makes him frown. It takes him a second before he realizes where he must be; Eddie’s chest, all cuddled up.

Shit.

He doesn’t want to make either of them think he’s uncomfortable with Eddie and cuddling up with a man, but his heart is pounding as he sits up as fast and normally as he can. He glares at the two of them, matching grins on their faces, and rubs his face as he asks: “What are you two shitheads laughing about now?”

Robin shows him a still developing polaroid, though the image is clear. It’s of him and Eddie in the bed, Steve drooling on Eddie’s chest, cuddling close, fast asleep. Eddie on the other hand is awake, his hair a mess, one arm wrapped around Steve as he flips off the camera. Written below in Robin’s messy scrawl is: ‘Indy 28-6-‘86 morning cuddles after the club’

It’s a really nice picture if Steve is honest. Fucking embarrassing too and he is blushing. But it also feels homey and comfortable. He likes it and he’s unsure why.

“You alright there, princess? Or still asleep?” Eddie asks in a teasing yet genuine voice.

The pet name is new, but it makes something float up in Steve’s chest. It always comes up whenever Eddie calls him a pet name, but he usually shoves it away. Now, however, he can’t help but note it’s the same feeling he got last night when Eddie pulled him close.

“’m awake,” he grumbles instead of letting his mind drift. “Just been rudely awoken by two assholes.”

“Ahww, you love us, Stevie,” Robin teases him and she knows she is right. She has taken to Eddie’s nickname for him and Steve doesn’t mind. He likes the name.

“Yeah, we’re so sorry,” Eddie tells him without sounding a little bit sorry. “How can we make it up to you, sweetheart.”

“Go get breakfast while I shower and I might forgive you,” Steve tells them, but he is already smiling.

“You heard him, Robbie,” Eddie says, swinging his legs out of bed and grabbing the first pair of pants he finds on the floor, putting them on. They’re Steve’s light wash jeans, but Eddie makes him work with his messy look.

He slings an arm over Robin’s shoulders and drags her out of the room, both laughing as Eddie calls back: “Don’t use all the hot water, princess.”

Then Steve is by himself in their little room and he isn’t sure whether he hates it or is glad for the brief moment of peace. He loves his friends, but he has much to think about. However, he also doesn’t really want to think about it.

With a sigh he peels himself out of bed and gets in the shower, turning on the water. The pressure is shit and doesn't get hotter than lukewarm. Yet Steve welcomes it anyway. As he washes off the grime and sweat of last night, he mulls over his thoughts.

‘You can do whatever you want and be whoever you want with whomever you want’ that’s what Brook told him.

And it’s overwhelming and enticing all at once. Steve has only known for a year, maybe two, that it’s okay not to mold yourself to whatever other people want. So, someone telling him he can be whoever he wants, is wild.

Though it’s not just that. Robin, Dustin and Eddie all have told him not to conform to some bullshit because it was expected, that isn’t new to him. Not anymore.

No what’s new is that is that Brook casually informed him he doesn’t have to just like girls, he can like boys too and that’s fine. Hell, he doesn’t even have to be a boy, if he doesn’t want to. And Steve had never even considered the possibility.

…But now that he has he can't get it out of his mind.

It feels like something illegal, like something that isn’t allowed. Exciting but also scary, like the first beer he had or the first joint, or even that first time he played DnD.

He knows that he can talk to Robin and Eddie about it. That they will listen and try to help without judgment and only excitement for him, but he doesn’t even know what he wants yet. It feels too personal, not fleshed out enough.

Steve has never been good at knowing what he wants and he just wants more information before he opens his mouth. So, he decides to make the most of this trip and ask around when hanging in queer spaces. That’s what this trip is about anyway, right?

~~

A/N

Steve is really like, ‘I personally relate to the queer things I have heard and read on a deep level and I think I’ll feel at home, but I am not queer, why would you think that?’ And just lives his life like that without question until he’s actually in the middle of it.

Also I went into this to write genderqueer Steve, I named by document ‘Genderqueer Steve’ yet it takes him 15k words to first hear about the concept… I have issues with letting my fics get out of hand, gonna be honest with y’all lmao

Doing queer research for this has been fun! USA Queer History isn’t my history, but it’s connected anyways and writing about queerness always makes me emotional

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Hawkins University : The Munson Edition

AN: Hey, y'all. I've finally moved! So, I'm working on writing right now. I'm so sorry for the long wait; I've been juggling a lot. I hope you like this chapter; we'll get into more drama and romance in the next chapters! Pls remember that reblogs and comments are appreciated! Also feedback!

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: mature topics, insecurity, hurt and comfort, drinking and drug usage, strong language, bullying, mental health, discussion of suicide and self harm, mature thoughts, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

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Chapter 8

Bug's POV

It had been two weeks since you and Eddie kissed. Though you both had talked about liking one another, neither of you breached the topic of your relationship. And to be honest, it hadn’t bothered you. You got to enjoy the typical activities with Eddie, plus the bonus of kissing or cuddling. You weren’t worried about labels or anything. Plus it meant you didn’t have to feel so guilty about not going on dates or dressing up. Only something more had developed…

You had begun to have a dilemma of jealousy and embarrassment. 

It began that fateful on the November night that was fading into December, finals approaching viciously. You had overheard from a few classmates that Eddie denied their advances, all of them bitter about the situation. You knew why, but couldn’t help but feel worried. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but you also weren’t nearly as experienced as Eddie. And maybe that sparked something in you. 

You were somehow both relieved and frustrated that Eddie hadn’t tried anything with you yet, curious as to how he would be with you. Some stories…made you sit at the edge of your seat, a gasp in your throat. 

He couldn’t help his reputation, really. 

You knew Eddie would make dirty jokes about enjoying choking with Gareth and even fake moans around Steve to make him disgusted. But he never did that with you. He was always sincere and kind. Tamed? In a way. But some tiny little piece of you, something depraved and lonely, wondered why. 

So you decided to test the waters. 

It started out small, of course. Something like a stupid ‘that’s what she said’ joke.

A few days later it snowballed to a joke revolving around your taste in jewelry and saying “Truthfully, I prefer my necklaces to be more...tight. Like a hand.” 

It was laughable, really. Embarrassing. 

But the straw that officially broke the camel's back?

A joke about Eddie's drawer. 

Eddie and you had been messing around, kissing sometimes and giggling, discussing past embarrassing moments. And that’s when you heard the story of how some guy ran out of Steve and Eddie’s shared apartment when he saw the ‘drawer’. You had rolled your eyes, laughing a bit and teasing Eddie gently. 

“I mean it is a bit slutty of you,” You giggled, curled into Eddie’s side. 

Eddie tickled your side gently, grinning softly, “Hey! We do not slut shame in this house. It’s rude,” He teased, nose scrunched up in the cutest way possible. Your heart skipped a beat. 

You smiled a devious grin and shrugged, standing up. “I wasn’t slut shaming…just…word gets around.” Your stomach was twisting and turning with nerves, your heart pumping. You were pushing it a bit, but wanted to test the waters. 

Eddie raised a brow at you, fighting a smile on his lips, eyes dark and twinkling with mischief. “Oh, does it, now? And what exactly…went around…?” 

You walked around, avoiding his gaze as you stared at the Warhammer minis on his shelf, a delicate finger careful to not touch them. “Oh…ya know…things like…how you’re really good at eating out. Or how you like ropes…and maybe…how you love power dynamics…how you…seem to really love getting people off.” With every phrase falling from your lips you felt more and more giddy and nervous, your heart thumping out of your chest. Your thighs squeezed together to rid the ache between your legs as you pretended to be more interested in his decor. You came to his band posters, some local, some big names. You stared at the art work and tried to avoid the intense feeling of Eddie’s gaze on you. 

“Oh…I see. And how much did you believe of it?,” His voice seemed low and almost like a whisper, but the guttural tones and bass of his vocals made a shiver run down your spine. You tried to hold your ground, walking towards his desk, playing with a fidget cube he kept on his desk for concentration. Your back was still to him. 

“Mmm…not much. I heard a lot of what seemed like exaggeration about how many times you made people…finish.” You breathed out, trying to ignore the trembling in your hands and the feeling of breathlessness consuming you. 

Eddie chuckled darkly and seemed to shuffle about, finally stepping closer to you and tracing delicate fingers up your side. “Do you want to find out if it’s true?” His breath was in your ear, making your skin feel hot and your stomach twist in knots. 

You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant and looking off towards a Metallica poster, chewing on your lip. “I mean, if you want to prove yourself…fine. But there's no way you can make anyone cum that much, no matter how slutty you-”

You found yourself spun around quickly as a pair of strong and calloused hands intertwined into your hair and pulled you in at your waist, his mouth immediately upon yours as he shut you up with the most passionate and panty dropping kiss you had ever experienced. Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips encased yours, fireworks going off in your belly. He rubbed his hand at your side, slipping under your shirt to have his cool hand touch your warming skin. He continued to tug at your hair, eliciting little moans from you and making wetness pool in your underwear, your body alight with desire. 

You felt desperate and pathetic, but in the best way. So often you were the caring and overbearing friend, the one who was always the designated driver, the one who worked a thankless job and tried to push others along to succeed. But here, with Eddie, you often felt free to let loose. Free to think less about others and more about yourself. And it seemed that translated into the bedroom too. 

Eddie was leaving your mouth to kiss down your neck, nipping and biting softly, causing you to whimper and claw at his back. He steered you toward what felt like the bed, dropping you onto your back before looming over you. His eyes were dark and his lips pink and swollen from the kissing. His arms were braced on either side of your head as his hair made a curtain around you, your heart beating at the sight of his expression. It was like he was hungry and desperate. 

“You’re so gorgeous…I’m gonna make you see fucking stars,” He growled out, making your body shiver in delight. 

He lifted your shirt off your frame, throwing it to the side as he cupped your breasts, eyes looking at you for reassurance. You nodded, biting your lip. He grinned devilishly, coming in to leaving bruising kisses and bites at your neck, his nimble fingers pinching and playing with your nipples, the desire pooling between your thighs as you squirmed under him. 

“Such a pretty girl…so responsive…,” He groaned out, grinding his hardness into you for a minute while you moaned, before moving down and taking a nipple in his mouth, first giving it teasing licks before he latched on and began sucking and nipping at the bud, making you whine and grip the bedding underneath you, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. You felt like you were on cloud 9. Your thoughts consumed by the goofy metalheads mouth and tongue, pleasure ever growing. You practically lost it when one of his hands traveled south while the other continued playing with your nipple that wasn’t between his teeth, hovering above your mound. 

“Can I touch you, baby? Can I play with your clit?,” He growled out around your nipple, your back arching at his words as you felt your cunt throb. You were mindless. You were putty in his hands. 

“Yes, god please…yes…” 

At that his hands went under your panties, finger quickly finding your sensitive spot and circling it gently. You were squirming, back arching, as his lip popped off your breast obscenely and moved to the other, and his fingers moved to tug at your nipple and keep it hard. At this point you swore you were going to combust. Eddie just kept whispering praise and growling around you, calling you his ‘plaything’ and his ‘girl’. Your back arching as you felt the familiar build, your cunt clenching around nothing as you whimpered, eyes screwed shut. 

“Fu-fuck…’M gonna cum…gonna cum…please please please, Eds,” You clawed at his back, releasing a moan from him as he moved to kiss you, still rubbing at your clit, this time with a bit more ferocity. You felt the pleasure between your legs build and build as you moaned into his mouth, finally snapping as he lightly smacked your clit, growling into your mouth. You saw white, your eyes rolling back as your body shook, gasps and moans escaping your mouth. You laid there, boneless for a moment, eyes shut as you caught your breath. 

Eddie collapsed beside you, sighing out. Your eyes fluttered open to look at him, still trying to catch your breath. 

“I guess…rumors hold…a bit of truth,” You panted, smiling weakly as Eddie chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“That was just a preview…catch your breath because I’m not letting you leave this bed until I’ve had my fill with you,” He whispered, smiling devilishly as he kissed your forehead and your eyes went wide. 

Eddie Munson would be the death of you. 

Once you’d had Eddie’s touch, his kiss…You were insatiable. 

Any moment you had free, you were in his grip. You experienced the ropes, the toys, everything. You now knew exactly what had all the people at Hawkins so hooked onto Eddie, his mere touch making you see stars. You had yet to actually have full penetrative sex, but it was satisfying exploring the space between. 

You hadn’t questioned your relationship, okay with not labeling it for the time. Though it seemed to really bother Steve. 

‘So, you guys finally a thing?’ 

‘He finally popped the lil question?’ 

‘Finally… or am I just hopeful again?’  

The last time he had asked, you were wearing Eddie’s shirt and boxers, cooking breakfast. You shook your head with a smile, laughing at Steve’s groan of frustration after Eddie walked out with a messy bedhead, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. 

Everything was simple and fun. 

And sure, a small part of you hoped soon Eddie would call you his. You knew you were exclusive, and that was great. But some days you had dreamed of hearing the words ‘my girl’ fall from his lips.

But you would settle with the little piece of heaven you were gifted. 

You could always sense a storm before it came. Not a literal storm, but an unfortunate event. Of course it could be argued that your anxiety led you to always sensing a storm, even if one wasn’t oncoming. But you knew the familiar feeling, your belly churning, your heart squeezed, and your head pained by pressure and nerves alike. 

It all started after the afternoon you and Eddie had been cuddling and watching trashy TV, giggling over stupid circumstances. Eddie turned over and looked at you. 

“This may sound weird but…would you be okay if I used you for a song?” 

Your heart skipped a beat, your breath caught in your throat. 

“Uh, sure…That’s okay,” you replied meekly, heart leaping at the thought of your closest friend and romantic interest with benefits writing something about you. For you. 

He smiled at you, those ice melting dimples causing your mind to turn to goo. You smiled back shyly, snuggling back into the crook of his arm. 

Then your phone buzzed, causing your brow to furrow. 

You looked down at the screen in your hand, seeing a notification from Instagram.

@ChrissytheCutie has followed you!

You felt a sense of confusion and sourness build. You didn’t know the account, but decided to brush it off. You didn’t post much anyways and you knew a bunch of people would just follow you after seeing you went to Hawkins. 

And boy…

Was that a mistake. 

Taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @kirisuteg0men @bebe07011 @amira0303 @vintagehellfire @lottie-90 @animechick555

[qprstobin]

I need to stop going into fandom servers when sick or on no sleep, because I always lose my filter and start riffing either weird bits or weird aus

Wrote a whole treatise on how much I want more platonic Steddie in my life (from the perspective of I'm also a huge stoncy shipper and a lot of stoncy fics either are pres4 or aren't fix it's (so no Eddie), and i think stoncy pining/jealousy plotlines would be 10x funnier with the inclusion of Eddie being Steve's other best friend). Somehow this led to:

- a half fic where Jonathan finds out he's the only member of the citrus six who hasn't kissed Steve (tho Robin only pecked him on the mouth once platonically as a dare and also once to get a creepy guy to leave her alone)

- me creating a new OT3 of Argyle/Eddie/Chrissy (aka Chrissy and her two weed smoking GFS)

- a running bit where Steve and Eddie actually really like each other's music (New Wave and Metal respectively, I'm not talking about ABBA here) but refuse to admit it in front of any of the rest of the group despite their tapes ending up in each other's cars

- a running bit where Eddie eats the weirdest food combinations and grosses Steve out every day

[catmacren]

Risky Business : Chapter one

The Fruit four + Vickie go to prom.