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resident-gay-bitch · 1 year

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Sunflower Boy

love comes back around, always

warnings: domestic violence, child neglect, blood, bruises

This was the worst day of Eddie’s life, ever.

And no, he wasn’t being dramatic, it actually was.

Eddie had been left alone in his house for three days - give or take - with no food, no running water, and no air conditioning.

He was ten.

A couple of days ago his dad got a job, he was like, a car salesman or something, and apparently it had gone super well, because he called Eddie and told him he was gonna be late. He was going for a beer or two.

He never came home.

Eddie’s mum was working too, though, that was more against her will. She would have preferred to be there with her son, however, her dad made sure of otherwise. Eddie didn’t know what his mum did, he just knew she wore really pretty clothes and makeup, would leave the house looking almost sick, and would come home smelling of alcohol, sweat, man, and something else kinda musky Eddie couldn’t exactly pin point. But she had left for a job, her longest one yet, up in Indy five days ago, and she wasn’t scheduled to come home until tomorrow night.

Eddie was scared, hot, alone, and hungry.

He didn’t know the way to Wayne’s house, or have his number and they didn’t have a phonebook. His neighbour across the hall, Mrs. Wittleson was a right bitch and hated Eddie and his parents. He couldn’t go to her. His neighbours to the left were scary, their apartment always smelt weird and in the middle of the night, right on the other side of Eddie’s wall, he’d hear screaming and moaning and slapping and sounds of pain. He was pretty sure they killed people or something. His neighbour on the right Mr. Crucks was a creepy man with a weird moustache that always offered him candy and looked at him funny. Eddie’s mum made him promise to never, ever, never talk to the man under any circumstances. Eddie never dared disobey his mum like that. The neighbours across the hall, beside Mrs. Wittleson, were away on holiday, and the other apartment was empty. Mould problem.

So Eddie was stranded.

He was worried for his dad, and so he did the only thing he knew to do.

He called the cops.

They’d asked him to explain his situation and he had told him how his dad went out to sell cars and never came home after celebrating the deal with a few beers, how his mum had been away all week on business, how the water bill was well overdue and he couldn’t even flush the toilet! He explained that it was so hot, and his mum said he wasn’t allowed to go into the ‘garden’, under the sprinklers for a cool down unless she was there because of that weird old Mr. Crucks. He said he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, because his dad was supposed to bring home the money so Eddie could go food shopping the other day, but he hadn’t yet, and he didn’t know how to call his uncle.

Eddie was just hanging up the phone when his dad walked through the door, “Yes, thank you sir, I will- I can do that. Okay, thank you sir. Goodbye.”

“Who ya talkin to?”

“Dad!” Eddie grinned, the phone on the hook, “I was just calling the cop-”

“Whaddya say?” His dad marched over to his son, grabbing him tight by his little wrist, “Cops?”

Eddie’s eyes were wet, “They… they were helping me find you.”

“You fuckin- what’d ya tell ‘em?”

“You hadn’t come home since your sale, and that I had no food, or anything.”

“Fuckin idiot!” He smacked his son across the face, “You know we don’t call the pigs here.”

“I didn’t know what to do.” Eddie sobbed, cradling his cheek, “I’m sorry, dad, I- I can-”

“You’re in big fuckin trouble, boy.” His dad shoved him up against the wall, a hand around his neck, “Y’ve fucked it all up, just had to fuck it all up.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie gasped, crying, trying to pry his dad’s hand away from his neck.

“Whaddya fuckin sorry for. Useless little shit. Shoulda left you and your mother on the street”-

Look, I won’t get too deep into it, but that ‘conversation’ went on for a little longer before they were distracted by red and blue flashing lights lit up the apartment. Eddie was terrified. He thought he was done for. He thought he was gonna get locked up and thrown in the can because he did something wrong. He didn’t know what, didn’t have the slightest idea, but his dad was scaring the shit out of him and Eddie thought he’d turned himself into a criminal by accident. So he did what he was taught to do when those lights flashed a little too brightly.

He ran.

He slipped out of his dads grip, right as the officers knocked on the door, and he slipped into the bathroom. He climbed up on the counter, kicked open the little window that always jammed, and wiggled his way out. His dad followed him in, trying to pull Eddie back inside, telling him he needed to face his consequences. But Eddie slipped free, and the window was too small for his dad to follow.

Eddie fell into the dirt behind his apartment, and he ran.

He ran for miles.

It was hot, and he was tired, and hungry, but he ran. Hoping to bump into someone or somewhere he knew.

He didn’t stop running until he realised that the houses flying by were nice. Like, really nice. Fancy and big with tall gates and green gardens.

He was on the nice side of town, a place where he most certainly wasn’t welcome. Eddie slowed, letting himself wander the nice suburb, trying to find his way out of the maze of pretty houses. He hoped he wasn’t spotted here, no doubt some woman with a pearl necklace would call the cops about it. Then he’d be in even bigger trouble.

He found a playground, by the woods. It was old and looked pretty rusty. There was another one, a better one on the other side of the field, Eddie could see. But that one had kids on it, over here, he could be alone.

The sun was hot, the air was warm.

This was his worst summer ever.

He sat on the swing, rusty and squeaky, but he didn’t care. He sat on the swing, and poked around his face, feeling for where he was hurt. His vision was a little blurred, though, he wasn’t sure if that was from the black eye he was sporting or the tears.

Maybe both.

Eddie sat, and he looked up at the sky, at the sun with squinted eyes, and hoped it burned him.

“Hi.” a little voice came from beside him.

Eddie looked over to see a boy standing at the edge of the swingset. He had golden brown hair, rosie cheeks, a warm smile, and a yellow shirt under some overalls that were unevenly cuffed at the ankles.

Eddie thought he might just be the prettiest boy he’d ever seen.

“Hi.” Eddie said back, his voice small and quiet, hoarse from crying.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Eddie swallowed and nodded his head.

“Are you sure?” the boy asked again, “You look hurt.”

“Just… had an accident.” Eddie offered, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay.” The boy nodded, “Do you have any friends?”

Eddie looked at him, thought for a moment, and shook his head, “Not really.”

The boy smiled, “Me either… Well, I have one friend, but he’s kind of mean. We’re only friends because our dads are business partners, so we see each other at all their fancy events. Our mums say they are best friends too, but my mum secretly hates his mum.”

“Okay.” Eddie had said, and looked back to the bark under his feet.

“Do you want to be my friend?”

Eddie looked up at him again, “Why?”

The boy furrowed his brow, “Because you look sad.” he shrugged, “Everyone deserves to have a friend when they are sad.”

Eddie thought for a moment, letting his eyes droop, “I suppose.”

The boy smiled, “Well, we can be friends then. I do like your hair, you look like… uh, I don’t know his name, but he sings that song, open your eyes and seee, i’m just a poor boy… la la la meee, easy come easy go… ahh…” he looked around a little awkwardly, hoping Eddie would catch on, “Mamaaa just killed a man….”

“Oh.” Eddie nodded, “I think I know him.”

“Yeah.” The kind boy smiled.

Eddie furrowed his brow, “We don’t look the same.”

“But you both have long hair.” He giggled, “It’s cool. Rockstar.”

Eddie couldn’t help but grin wide at that, it hurt his face, but he grinned anyway, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” The boy sighed, “Can I sit next to you?”

“Sure.” Eddie looked at the rickety swing beside him, “Here, have mine, that one looks broken.”

“It’s okay-”

“No, it’s okay.” Eddie hopped up, and sat himself down on the broken one before the boy could protest, “You look too fancy to sit on broken things.”

“I am not fancy.” the boy took a seat, “Hey, you warmed it up for me. Thanks.”

Eddie giggled, “You have done your hair all nice, and your overalls are clean.”

“All clothes are supposed to be clean.”

“These are clean.” Eddie pointed to his jeans, “Got them out the cupboard this morning, but they have a paint stain on them here, and a ketchup stain on them here, and something else here.”

The boy giggled, “My nanny hates stains.”

“You have a nanny!”

“Yeah, don’t you?”

Maybe if he had a nanny, all of this bullshit would have been avoided and Eddie wouldn’t be a wanted criminal. But, he supposed, he never would have met this boy.

“No, I don’t have a nanny.”

“Oh.” the boy furrowed his brow, “It’s probably for the best, my nanny is a butthead.”

Eddie laughed, “A butthead?”

“Yeah.” the boy groaned, “She’s always telling me I need to brush my teeth for longer and eat my carrots. I hate carrots!”

Eddie laughed some more, “You’re so fancy.”

“Am not.”

“Y’are.” Eddie smiled, “I only brush my teeth in the mornings, and most of the time, I just have microwave mac ‘n cheese for dinner or spaghettios.”

“Cool!” The boy grinned, “I wish I could have spaghettios for dinner.”

Eddie sighed, finding himself frowning a little, “Spaghettios are not that good three times a week.”

The boy pouted, “Maybe we should swap.”

“I think so.” Eddie grinned, “Though, I’d probably get smacked for not being fancy enough in your house.”

Steve shrugged, “My nanny doesn’t like smacking.” he sighed, “Mum and dad don’t even notice when I’m bad anymore.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Eddie asked, “I wish my parents didn’t notice when I mess up.”

The boy huffed, resting his head against the chain on the swing, “I suppose.”

“So…” Eddie kicked the bark under his feet, “What’s your favourite song?”

“Uhm,” the boy perked up, seemingly a little cheerier now that parents were not a topic of conversation, “Honey Honey by ABBA.”

Eddie broke a grin, “That’s one of my mums favourites.”

“Really?” The boy had wide eyes.

“Yes.” Eddie nodded, “My favourite is… Immigrant Song by Led Zepp.”

The boy looked confused.

“You’ve never heard it, have you?”

The boy shook his head.

“Maybe you can listen to it, it’s so metal.” Eddie suggested with a sweet smile, “Maybe you will like Led Zeppelin.”

“Well… you’re cool, and you like them, so probably.” the boy shrugged, his kindness easy.

Eddie hadn’t gotten such kindness from kids at school before.

“How old are you?”

“I’m nine and two quarters.” the boy answered, proudly, Eddie noticed he was missing a tooth.

Wait, isn’t that just nine and a half?

“I’m ten, almost twelve.”

“Poop.” the boy sighed, “Means we won’t have class together.”

“Oh.” Eddie looked to the ground, but his chest bloomed with warmth at the idea of this boy wanting to have classes with him, “We… never mind.”

“What?” the boy had asked, eyes wide and sparkling.

He was very pretty.

“Maybe we could play at lunchtime.”

The boy smiled, “Obviously.” he hopped up off the swing and started to climb the tower, “We could play lots of games. Do you like superheroes?”

“Yeah.” Eddie smiled, following him up the tower, “I love superheroes.”

“I wish I was superman.” the boy smiled, sitting down at the top of the old metal slide, it was probably burning hot, but he had long pants on. Eddie could see his matching mismatched rainbow socks, “He’s so cool.”

“Yeah.” Eddie agreed, unable to help the smile he got when the boy slid down, letting out a giggle, “Batman’s cool too though. I like bats.”

“Ooh, yeah.” the boy smiled, watching Eddie slide down now too, “He’s so cool… Maybe we can go as Batman and Superman to Halloween together.”

Eddie stopped at the bottom of the slide, looking up at the boy, “You want to go to halloween together?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “I know where all the best houses are to get the biggest candy bars, plus, Miss Lorane across the street loves me and always gives me triple.”

“Cool!” Eddie hopped up, he never got too many treats on halloween, most of them were from his mum.

The boy rushed over to the seesaw, and Eddie followed, “Do you want to play superheroes now? Or would you like to play something else?”

“Hmm…” Eddie thought superheroes did sound really fun, but he wanted to know what other games the boy had, “maybe.”

“We could also play… cafe, and pretend to make food with the bark. Or we could play astronauts and climb to the top of the tower like it’s our rocket ship…” the boy hummed, letting his eyes wander, until he got an idea, and he got excited, “or maybe we can play doctors!”

“Doctors?” Eddie asked, quirking an eyebrow, and his face hurt again.

“Yeah,” the boy smiled, nodding rather aggressively, “I can make you all better.”

Oh.

Eddie felt his heart grow three sizes.

“Okay.”

The boy smiled, hopping off of the seesaw before dragging Eddie over to the tower. He sat him down under the shade of it, right by the slide, and got to work doctoring Eddie. He put on a funny voice, pretending to be a doctor of course, acting as if he had a stethoscope and everything. Eddie couldn’t help but smile as he watched the boy. The boy whose smile was as bright as the sun and who’s heart was as big as the sky. He was dressed in a warm yellow t-shirt, and perfectly clean denim overalls, and rainbow matched mismatched socks with stripes and polka dots under his sneakers, and he radiated kindness and warmth.

Eddie really liked this boy.

After they finished playing doctors, and Eddie’s face felt a little better, his heart feeling a lot better, they sat on the overgrown grass. They talked and talked and talked about stupid boy things, and picked at the grass and laughed.

It was nice, Eddie thought, to have a friend like this.

On the worst day of Eddie’s life, after he’d been abandoned for three days, starved, overheated, beaten, and sent on the run from the cops, he’d been sent this boy. Eddie thought he must have been an angel. He had to be. There was no other explanation about it.

“Oh! Look over there.” the boy smiled, jumping to his feet and running for the treeline, “Daisies!”

Eddie raced after him, both of them stopping at the patch of pretty white daisies with centres that matched the kind boy’s shirt, “What about them?”

“Do you not like flowers?” the boy asked, leaning over to pick one, “My friend doesn’t like them either, says it’s weird for boys to like flowers. But my old nanny taught me all about them, she was so nice, but mum fired her because she always had her boyfriend around and wore shirts that showed too much skin apparently.”

“Oh.” Eddie swallowed, “No, I just… I’ve never really thought about flowers much before.”

“Hmm.” the boy smiled, handing his picked flower to Eddie before grabbing another, “Do you like these ones?”

“I suppose.” Eddie shrugged, “They are pretty.” Not quite as pretty as you, though.

The boy grinned, “Have you ever made a daisy chain?”

Eddie shook his head, “I don’t even know what that is.”

The boy gasped, squatting down to pick basically all of them, “You’re crazy, weirdo.”

Eddie felt his stomach drop. Of course he’d fuck it up. He always fucked shit up.

“I have to teach you.” The boy handed Eddie a bunch of flowers and went back to picking more, “Only weirdo crazy people don’t know about daisy chains, and we can’t have you being one of those any longer. You’re too cool for that.”

Eddie smiled, all warm and fuzzy inside.

Eddie couldn’t make daisy chains.

His hands trembled too much, and he just couldn’t get it. He gave up after a while, happy to just watch Steve make his. He picked the petals of a couple of flowers he’d fucked up.

“What’s your favourite flower then?” Eddie had asked, curious to learn more about this sunray of a boy.

“Hmmm.” he had hummed, “I think… sunflowers.”

“Why?” Eddie asked.

“Well, I do like yellow the best. It’s so happy and bright.” the boy fiddled with the flowers in his hands, “And, did you know that sunflowers will follow the sun? They actually turn to look at the sun throughout the day, so they’ll always be in the light.”

Eddie thought that was perfect. Sunflowers for this sunshine boy. Sunflower boy.

“How about you, what flowers are your favourite, do you think?”

“Uh…” Eddie wasn’t sure at all, other than sunflowers now, but he couldn’t very well say that, “I’m not sure.”

“We’ll find you a favourite flower.” he smiled, lifting his daisy chain up to the sky to look at it, “I’m all done.”

“Wow.” Eddie inspected it, the perfect circle of pretty white flowers with yellow centres, “It’s wonderful… how did you do it?”

The boy laughed, “Magic.”

“You’re so cool.”

The boy smiled, cheeks tinted pinker, “It’s for you.”

Eddie felt his heart jump into his throat, his eyes widened and he looked at the boy, “What?”

“I made it…” the boy offered, both hands holding the crown out, “for you. I thought it would look nice in your hair.”

Eddie’s chest felt impossibly tighter, “Do you think?”

The boy smiled, and giggled in a honey sweet way, and leant forward on his knees to plant the chain on Eddie’s head, fixing it into place to make a crown, “Hey, it looks so pretty on you.”

Eddie felt his cheeks go pink, “Really?”

The boy nodded, “It suits you.”

Eddie grabbed all the daisies from his lap and the ground around them, gathered them into a bunch and shoved them into the Sunflower boy’s chest (nicely of course). The boy giggled, and Eddie was infatuated with him.

“What?” he had asked, holding the bunch of flowers, some of them facing the wrong direction.

“For you.” Eddie had said, picking up the few flowers that dropped and handed them over as well, “Thank you.”

The boy giggled, “You don’t have to give me these!”

Eddie plucked one, the prettiest one he could see, and stuck it behind the boy’s ear, “There, now… pretty.”

The boy bloomed pink, “You think I’m pretty?”

Eddie nodded, “You’re prettier than all of these flowers and more.”

Okay, so apparently Eddie was a little romantic.

Sunflower boy turned pinker and dipped his head.

“I think my favourite flower is a daisy.” Eddie had smiled.

The boy looked up at him with soft eyes and a kind smile, “Perfect.”

They both laid back on the grass, the bunch of daisies clutched in the boy’s hand, resting on his chest. They watched as the sky turned from blue to dusky orange and pink. Their pinkies intertwined between them, only a few sweet words said.

Eddie thought he might be in love.

“I have to go home.” his Sunflower boy had said, voice quiet and calm, “I’m not allowed to be out after dark.”

Eddie frowned, “Okay.”

“We can play at school though.” The boy smiled.

Eddie felt a pang through his chest, “Do you mean that?” he’d asked, his eyes wide and pleading, “Not many people like me at school.”

The boy smiled wider and held up his pinky, “I pinky promise to play with you every day at school.”

This was definitely love, “Really?”

“Of course,” he waggled his finger, “you’re my best friend.”

Eddie locked his finger around his Sunflowers, offering his warmest, most genuine smile.

There was silence for a moment, before Sunflower spoke again, “Would you like to come for dinner? You can eat my carrots.”

Eddie positively lit up, “Yes please.”

The boy grabbed his hand and they ran. They ran through the field and down the streets, watching the sky disappear to darkness and the street lights switch on. Eddie held the crown atop his head and the boy clutched the daisy bunch tight. They laughed as they ran, or more so, giggled.

Eddie wanted to hold his Sunflower boy’s hand forever.

He was going to marry this boy.

In the distance, Eddie heard the faint echo of a siren. His heart dropped. He stopped in the middle of the street, the boy stopped with him. Eddie looked around, frantic.

“You okay?” the boy had asked, his hand holding Eddie’s a little tighter now.

“Uh… yeah.” Eddie had said, right before his eyes fixed on a cop car down the road, “I need to go.”

“What?” the boy had asked.

Eddie turned to face him. He didn’t want to leave the boy. He didn’t ever want to say goodbye to this boy. Sunflower boy was his entire world and Eddie knew he loved him. He was positive. He’d never felt anything like this.

Which is exactly why Eddie had to leave.

He was wanted for crimes he didn’t know if he committed, he was in trouble, bound to get locked up. His dad had told him he was in big trouble, that he had consequences to face. Eddie just hoped they had a separate jail for kids. And this boy, his Sunflower boy, sweet and soft with a smile Eddie wanted to kiss away. Well, he was too good for a delinquent like Eddie. He was more deserving. Eddie wanted to keep him safe, to protect him from his rotten life. He wanted to keep his Sunflower blooming, facing the sun, and keep him in the light. If he’d stayed, and the cops found Eddie, they’d take his sunflower boy too no doubt. Lock him up for being Eddie’s accomplice or something. Cops were pigs, as his dad would say, always making up bullshit, looking to lock anyone a little rough or different up.

Eddie couldn’t risk his flower being hidden from the sun.

“I just… I have to go.” Eddie had said again, trying to pull away.

But the boy didn’t let him go, just held him a little tighter, “Why? I don’t want you to go. I thought we were friends.”

“We are…” Eddie said, “But I have to leave.”

“But why?” he’d asked again, eyes pleading for him to stay.

“I just… I can’t explain it.” Eddie tried to pull away.

“I want you to stay.” His voice was wet, higher pitched, like a wine but sadder, “I’ll make you another daisy chain, if you’d like, or… we can have dessert. Anything you want. You can sleepover, if you like!”

Eddie frowned, “I-” he heard the siren much closer, “I can’t.”

“Please.” He’d pouted, and it broke Eddie’s heart.

“I need to-” he saw the cop car come up the street, and Eddie’s heart jumped out of his throat, “No, this is weird! Yo- you’re… weird. I need to go.” he yanked his hand away, and he ran, daisy chain clutched to his chest.

Eddie hugged his knees, looking down at the grass by his feet. He didn’t feel much, not really. Just… emptiness. Emptiness and content, almost.

He had a few things to cross off his bucket list still. He thought he’d have a good few years to get through them, and under much different circumstances. But, he’d just have to make do with what he could.

Eddie looked back over his shoulder at Steve and Robin, sitting, talking with Dustin and Erica. He could cross a couple things off now, with that lot, if he wanted. Just little things, fun things, meaningful things.

But he thought he’d start with the big two; do something brave and a little stupid without running from the consequences, and tell someone special the story he’d never told anyone before.

“Hey, Steve?” He’d called out, forcing himself to before he backed out again.

“Yeah, you okay?” He’d replied.

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, waving his hand out, “Can you c’mere for a sec?”

Steve nodded his head, saying a quick something to Robin before making his way over to Eddie. Steve sat down in the grass beside him, in the field, looking up at the bright blue sky. It was calm out. The world felt warm.

“What’s up?” Steve asked, bumping his knee into Eddie’s.

Eddie took a deep breath, “I just… I wanted to cross a few things off the list before I kicked it.”

“Ed-”

“Okay, I know, talk positive.” Eddie sighed, “Just… let’s be real for a second Steve, I’m either dying down there, or getting locked up for life which is just as bad. I don’t wanna die, I really don’t, but I’m being realistic, okay?”

Steve huffed, “Stay alive, we can get your charges dropped.”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, “Maybe.”

“We’ll try- Dustin will try.”

Eddie smiled, “True.” he shrugged, “But still, just in case, I wanna cross a couple of things off.”

“Eddie-”

“Humour me, Steve.” he looked at Steve, eyes pleading, “C’mon.”

Steve sighed, “Okay.”

Eddie smiled, “I… I wanna do something bold and brave. Something that’s probably a little dumb and might get me hurt, even though it’s right, and I won’t run from the consequences of that.”

I want to come out to you, a well known queer puncher.

“And I wanna tell you something…” Eddie swallowed, “I wanna tell you a story, something that happened to me when I was a kid. Something I’ve never told anyone, ever, and that I was saving for a special someone.”

“Ah…” Steve glanced at him, “I- I’m your-”

Eddie glared at him, “No.” yes, “But out of everyone here, you’re probably the specialist.” Eddie shrugged, “A fallen king, hanging out with a bunch of nerds, fighting interdimensional monsters whilst maintaining glorious hair… That’s special, Steve.”

Steve laughed, “Okay, yeah.” he nodded, “Go on then.”

“Okay,” Eddie sighed, “So, when I was-”

“Wait, what’s the brave thing?” Steve asked.

“It’s in the story.” Eddie nodded, “You’ll have to wait to find out… but you’ll know.”

“Okay.” Steve smiled.

Eddie took a deep breath, “When I was a kid… about ten, I had, what I thought was, the worst day of my life. Now, it was pretty fuckin bad, I’ll give you that, but I think I’ve had worse now.”

Steve shrugged, “Probably.”

“Now, Stevie, I’m trusting you with this story, yeah?” Eddie raised an eyebrow, “I’ve never told a soul this, and I don’t plan on telling anyone else, okay? Not even Wayne. It’s special.”

“Yeah, okay.” Steve smiled, lifting his little finger, “Pinkie promise.”

Eddie felt his chest tighten.

“God.” Eddie groaned, linking his pinkie with Steves, “Add that to the list of things that make you special.”

Steve laughed.

“So, I didn’t know this at the time really, but my dad stole cars and shit for a living. I mean… you know… he taught me how to hotwire and… but anyway, he stole cars and then sold them for drug runs. A few days prior to this stories beginning, my dad worked a job and got paid really fucking well, so he decided to go on a three day bender down the pub.” Eddie shrugged, scratching his chin, “My mum, I really didn’t know this at the time, was a sex worker. She didn’t wanna be, she worked as an escort, she was kinda forced into it. My dad owed a bunch of people a bunch of money and so they kinda just… used my mum as collateral. Five or so days prior to my tale, she went up to Indy on a ‘business trip’. Basically, she was keeping this one guy company because dad owed him fuckin buckets and she was forced to. So this left me alone for three days. The water stopped working, it was hot, I didn’t have food or money to get some… I was stranded, alone for three days. And, my dad, he got this payout, but spent it all on drink rather than his kid, or to get his fucking wife out of the situation she was forced into because of him.”

Eddie rubbed his eyes, and Steve listened carefully, taking in every word. He rubbed his hand up and down Eddie’s back, over the smooth cool leather. It made Eddie feel a little safer.

“I was worried. I was hungry. I was alone.” Eddie sighed, “So I called the cops, asked them to help me find my dad. Right? It’s what kids are taught to do.”

“Right.” Steve nodded.

“So I hang up, right as my dad get’s home. I told him I just talked to the cops, and he… he was not impressed.” Eddie took a deep breath, “We had a strict no cops rule in our apartment, but I didn’t know what else to do. Dad started yelling, telling me off, he… he beat me.”

“Oh, Eddie.” Steve hummed, his hand on Eddie’s forearm.

“The worst he’d ever done, at that point.” Eddie said, “We saw the cops pull up, and I thought… I thought they were gonna arrest me, because I’d done the wrong thing by calling them. And so I ran. I duct out the bathroom window and ran for miles, not looking back once.”

“Sounds freeing.” Steve looked out to the sky, “I wish I could run like that.”

“Yeah.” Eddie looked out with him, both of them taking in the feel of the wind for a moment.

“Is that it?” Steve asked, voice gentle.

“No.” Eddie shook his head.

“Okay.” Steve smiled softly, “Take your time, Ed’s.”

Eddie ignored how the nickname squeezed at his heart, “I found myself in unknown territory, sat myself down on a broken playground.” Eddie couldn’t help but smile at the memory, “I hated everything in the world. I was ready to run away and never face anyone ever again. But then this… boy just appeared out of nowhere. He appeared and he made everything better.”

Eddie laid back into the grass, looking up at the soft sky as it began to set. Steve laid back with him, both of them taking in the feel of the world around them.

“He had a sweet smile, and he wore the cleanest overalls I’d ever seen. I don’t remember much about him, my brain blocked out most of that week. But I remember him.” Eddie nodded, “He… he asked me if I was okay, if I wanted a friend. And we played. He made me a daisy chain and I thought he was the most perfect boy in the whole world. His favourite flowers are sunflowers, you know. That’s how I know him, call him my Sunflower boy.”

Eddie chuckled to himself, feeling happy with the memory, “He was so kind. Too kind, even. I thought my brain had made him up entirely. He’d just come to me on my worst day and fixed it all. He wore bright yellow and smiled warm and made me a fuckin daisy chain, Steve.” Eddie turned his head to look at him, “He was my first love.”

Steve’s eyes widened a little, “You…” he blinked a few times, “You’re gay?”

“Please don’t punch me.” Eddie muttered.

“Why would I-” Steve swallowed, “I promise, I won’t.”

Eddie smiled, “Thanks.”

“Keep talking.” Steve said low.

Eddie felt his spine tingle, “He invited me back to his house, for dinner. I wanted to go. I did, I loved him, I knew it. I never wanted to let this boy go again. And he was beautiful. I remember… we were in the middle of the road, and he had daisies in his hands and hair and… I loved him.” Eddie looked back up at the sky, “But I heard a cop car down the street, and they were looking for me. I thought they were going to arrest me, lock me up, and I didn’t wanna risk my Sunflower boy. I promised myself I’d make sure he always got to see the sun. Didn’t want him getting in trouble just for being nice to me… a supposed criminal.” Eddie chuckled, “Funny how things come back around.”

Steve smiled, “Maybe you’re not as innocent as we thought, Eddie.”

Eddie couldn’t help but blush, “I told him he was weird, because he didn’t want me to go. I told him… I was mean to him, Steve. But I didn’t know what else to say to make him let me go. I didn’t want him to know I was a criminal. I wanted him to remember me as the boy who liked daisies because they looked pretty on my Sunflower.” Eddie sighed, “I just hope he’s doing okay. I think about him every day, you know?”

“You do?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, “He helps me through my hardest times. When things are shit, I just remember his sweet little voice saying hi.”

“That's… cute.”

“Mhm.” Eddie smiled, “After all was resolved, and mum got home, the daisy chain started to wilt. I went to mum with it, crying. Didn’t tell her why I didn’t want it to die, just that it was very important to me and that I needed to keep it forever and ever. She helped me pick the biggest, prettiest, most alive flower from it, and we preserved it.”

“What?” Steve looked at him.

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, “We pressed it, then she turned it into a pin for me, put resin or some shit over it and a safety pin on the back.” Eddie opened up his leather jacket on his left, showing Steve the inside, “I keep it over my heart, so he’s always close to me.”

“That’s beautiful.” Steve managed to say after a moment of silence.

“Mhm.” Eddie closed his jacket, pressing a hand over his heart, “Just hope he’s got someone there for him now, like he was for me. Hope I didn’t shove him into the closet or whatever. Everyone deserves a Sunflower, especially my boy.”

“Your…” Steve trailed off with a whisper, “I think he does, Eddie.”

“Really?”

Steve nodded, “He’s got you, keeping him close.”

Eddie frowned, “He probably hates me.”

“I think he’d understand, if you explained it to him.”

“I hope so.” Eddie sighed.

“What would you say…” Steve wondered, “if you ever met him again?”

Eddie chuckled, “I’d probably plant one on him.”

Steve laughed, “What?”

“Yeah!” Eddie nodded, “I’d give him a kiss. That’s all, just a kiss, thank him for keeping me sane all these years. Let him go on his way.”

Steve sighed, “You’re wonderful, Eddie.” he smiled, hooking his pinkie with Eddies, “Promise I’ll never tell.”

Oh god, it hurts.

Everything really hurt.

His body felt like fire and his blood was cold.

Death wasn’t what he thought it would be.

“Love you, man.” He managed to choke out, holding Dustin’s hand dearly.

“Love you too.” The younger boy had managed to splutter out.

Eddie’s face was sprinkled with tears and slobber and probably snot, but he was too close to death to care.

“No, no, no, no!” He’d heard a voice shout from afar, “You idiot!”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered, but only Dustin had heard him.

“Oh my god.” Nancy pressed a hand over her mouth, turning away, “Dustin-” she grabbed the boy, pulling him into her chest and stroking his hair, “Shh, it’ll be okay. It will be okay-”

“No.” Steve whined again, this time he was on his knees, beside Eddie, holding his limp body, “Eddie…”

Eddie smiled up at him with reddened teeth, “Hi, Steve.”

“What did you do?”

“I played hero.” Eddie managed to choke out, “I never liked… listening to peoples… rules.”

Steve squeezed Eddie a little, “Idiot. I fucking hate you.” he cried a little harder, “Why… you said you’d live. We… we’d get you- I’ll get you out.”

Eddie shook his head, “No-”

“I’m getting you out, Eddie.” Steve readied himself to stand, pulling Eddie with him.

But Eddie groaned, let out a piercing cry of new found pain, more blood leaving his body. Steve put him back down, crying more. He couldn’t save him.

Eddie smiled again, and it broke all of their hearts, “Thanks for listening, Steve.” He moved his frail hand around until it found Steves, and he squeezed with all his might, “Before… in the clear…ing. Thank you.”

Steve shook his head, “You… you-” Steve sobbed, his hand wiped the blood from Eddie’s cheek, “I needa tell you something too.”

Eddie nodded, “Course.”

Steve forced himself to smile through the tears, “He’s me.”

Eddie didn’t quite catch on.

Steve wove his hand under Eddie’s jacket until he found the daisy pin, “Sunflower. He’s me.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, “I-” he smiled softly then, “Makes sense. You both had… lovely hair.”

Steve laughed, “I always remembered you, Eddie. Always.”

“Trying to make me feel bad?” Eddie joked, but his frail voice made laughing harder, “I’m dying here.”

Steve cradled him a little closer, “I remembered because you were the only boy in Hawkins with hair that long. And on that day, you were wearing a Garfeild shirt, and you wore it on the first day back at school.” Steve wiped his cheeks with his shoulders, “I didn’t talk to you because I thought you hated me.”

Eddie’s eyebrows creased, “No…” he sounded so broken, his hand squeezed Steves again, “No… no, I loved you.”

Steve nodded, “I know. I know now.”

Eddie coughed and sputtered up some blood.

“Shh.” Steve soothed, “Relax, Daisy boy.”

Eddie smiled.

“You broke my heart, that day, Ed’s.” Steve smiled, “My first heartache. I loved you too.”

Eddie’s smile grew a lot sadder, “You broke mine too.”

“How?” Steve scoffed, “You did that to yourself.”

“I know.” Eddie chuckled softly, ignoring the pain it caused, “But later. In your freshman year, you were so kind, at first.” he took a moment to breathe, “So pretty. Y- you were a slut, you know?”

Steve laughed, “Yeah.”

Eddie nodded, “Always made me… jealous.”

“You had a thing for me in highschool?” Steve asked.

Eddie nodded again, “You were such a dick, but I loved you.” Eddie turned his head towards the three huddled beside him, “Hated you, N- Nancy.”

Nancy laughed, “Yeah?”

Eddie smiled, “You sucked… took him.”

Steve genty took Eddie’s cheek, turning him back, “You hated me in highschool.”

“I hated… King Steve.” Eddie smiled, lifting a hand to press on Steve’s heart, “Not you.”

Steve sobbed some more.

“Broke my heart… with every girl.” Eddie swallowed, he didn’t like the taste of blood much, “Guess we’re even.”

Steve nodded, “Yeah, guess we are.” he looked down at him for a moment, shaking his head, “Fuck, Ed’s. Why’d you do it?”

“Didn’t wanna run.” He pushed out.

“I hate you.” Steve sobbed.

“I know.” Eddie whispered, cupping Steve’s cheek, “I know, Sunflower.”

Steve cried a whole lot harder, “You did shove me in the closet, you know?”

Eddie felt his heart breaking, “I did?”

“So far.” Steve nodded.

“I’m sorry.” he couldn’t control the tear that slipped out, “Stevie, I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckled, “Doesn’t matter now.” he stroked Eddie’s hair, “But maybe, if we’d known better back then, things could have been different.”

“You think?” Eddie asked, eyes close to closing.

“I know.” Steve leant down, pressing his forehead to Eddies, “Woulda been loving you much longer.”

Eddie hummed, eyes closing to feel Steve better, “Sunflower.” he’d whispered.

He felt Steve’s body shake, “I hate you, Eddie.” his voice was so broken, “Why’d you have to do it? Why’d you have to play hero?”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie opened his eyes.

“No.” Steve sat up again, teeth gritted, “No you don’t… you don’t get to do that! You can’t do this to me, Eddie.”

“I’m so sorry.” Eddie felt his body shake too, more tears falling, “I don’t want to die, Stevie, don’t let me die. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Steve couldn’t see much, just red, “I love you.”

Eddie tried to speak, but the crying shook his lungs and forced up more blood.

“I don’t know what to do, Eddie. I don’t know what to do.”

Eddie looked at him weakly, his hand slowly moving to hover over his heart, “T- take it.”

Steve shook his head, “Take what?”

“M-my hea…rt, Stevie.” Eddie smiled, “‘Nd the d- daisy.”

Steve closed his eyes, and nodded his head, “I’ll wear it every day.”

Eddie smiled, “Love… you… Sunflower.”

“No.” Steve shook Eddie’s body, “C’mon, no… please! Just need a little longer, Eddie, I’ll get you out of here.”

Eddie smiled softly, “M’okay, baby.” he was barely whispering, “M’okay here.”

“No.” Steve whispered back.

“You’ve got me, Sunflower.” Eddie let his eyes close, “S’all that matters.”

“I can’t let you go, Eddie. We need more time.”

“Give me a kiss, Steve?” Eddie smiled, eyes unable to open again.

Steve leant over, tears slipping off the end of his nose and onto Eddie’s. He pressed his lips to his Daisy boys and kissed him. He cried, so hard, and Eddie couldn’t kiss back, not really. It wasn’t anything like it should have been, but it was theirs, and that’s all that mattered. When Steve sat back up his mouth was red with Eddie’s blood, and Eddie had stopped moving.

sorry not sorry x

don’t forget to reblog! comments are always welcome as well, i love to read about your thoughts and ideas <3

thanks for reading!

here is a little pic i drew for this :)

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wroteclassicaly · 5 months

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18+

Thinking about having a secret that no one in the group knows about, but you end up telling Steve when you’re cleaning him up, and all of you are changing into your new clothes for the battle with Vecna.

You really think you’ll be dying and that’s why you say it, fiddling with your fingers. He’s inquisitive, voice a low and quietly calm rasp - just for you.

“Tell me, please?” He’s begging, and underlying need to please, to satiate before this all unfolds tonight. However, still patient with you.

“I don’t want to die without knowing what it’s like to have sex. I want to know how it feels to be close to someone, and not when we’re being threatened to die by some monster.” Straight to the point with him, it takes you a few seconds to meet his gaze.

He’s thoughtfully paused, swallows a few times, making the cuts wrapped around his neck and jugular all the more visible. You ache inside, knowing how much it must hurt him. You’re not ready as his thick hand cradles the line of your jaw, thumbpad grazing your temple. It’s an unspoken agreement the moment that his dirt shaded brows raise in question. You’re nodding into his nose as it slides across your lips, two friends meeting mouths.

He kisses you once, twice, testing the waters. And the floodgates release, his spare hand cradling your nape, knees working apart so that you can slide in between. It’s a careful shift to get you onto your back, and he does it so gently that you were barely aware you hit his unmade bed at all.

“Are you sure you feel okay to —“ He breaks your shaky question with a kiss to your neck, a nose bridge to the apple of your cheek. You card a hand through his streaked, dampen tresses, feeling the nod before he speaks his words across your throat.

“ — I really fuckin’ need you tonight. Let me be the one to take care of you?”

Acceptance is given in a settled fervor. He doesn’t rush you, takes his time letting you experience how things feel, how you feel, how you’re making him feel, and what you’re doing together. He kisses your nerves and away, adds his thumb to your clit when you have trouble accepting him into your body. Words of encouragement are bestowed, only for you, shared pleas and whispers. Once he’s fully seated, he grabs your hands, mouths your jaw in a pathway right down to your lips, checking in with you.

His hips stutter a few times the before he starts. Overwhelmed with the situations, but mostly how tight and warm your body feels. He makes it last for you as long as he can, but you know he needs to let go. “Cum in me. Steve, do it inside of me.” You beg, kissing his stubble, mouths panting with need.

It happens moments later and he eases out, lets his hand drift, rubbing you through your own climax, you holding one another after. Until you reluctantly part to prepare to load the RV. He clasps a hand across your shoulder as you wipe your tears, knees still shaking from the changes of letting someone else in your body. You feel different, you want to stay with Steve - safe in his bed.

“You’re gonna be okay, I know so. When it’s all over, we can do this again. I’ll take you to bed every single night… If you’ll have me?”

You accept. And after survival, post-battle, even when everything has gone to shit, defeat present, having sunk through your muscles and settled across your bones - he makes good on his promise from that very first night on.

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shushmal · 3 months

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Stranger to Myself (I think of Home)

For @steddie-week Day 5! Rated T — Check the tags and content warnings!

Eddie is a monster.

Eddie started watching Steve because it didn’t hurt so bad. Didn’t hurt like it does with every glimpse he catches of Wayne, of Dustin. The people who had loved Eddie when he was Eddie. But Steve—Steve was safe. Steve was a boy Eddie knew in passing glances and high school gossip, a guy who was laughing with his friends in another room at every party, a man who planted his feet and fought monsters and helped save the world. Steve who told Eddie to be safe, because Steve was kind when he didn't have to be, when he wasn't expected to—so Eddie finds himself watching Steve instead.

Because Eddie is a monster, and Steve knows exactly what to do with monsters. Eddie knows this.

To Steve, it wouldn't matter that Eddie is the last little bit of the apocalypse still kicking around Hawkins. Eddie who had been chewed up and spat out of hell at the last second, just before the final dungeon slammed shut, sneaking through the shadows unseen, past the unsuspecting heroes wrapped up in their victory. Past his friends, the people who had tried to keep Eddie safe. Past Dustin, who’s face had already been changed by grief.

Past Steve, as well. Steve, who told Eddie to be safe, and Eddie hadn’t.

Eddie wonders sometimes, what Vecna really had in mind for him.

But Eddie is just an unfinished experiment, not quite who he used to be, but not yet the thing Vecna had been trying to twist him into, before the wrinkly ballsack bastard bit it and disintegrated into dust like some b-grade horror movie villain written by some unimaginative hack that shouldn’t have even been in the writer’s room.

He’s the last piece of the Upside Down, Vecna’s last monster, but Eddie’s worst crime post-resurrection is a bit of misdemeanor stalking, simple battery, and animal cruelty. A guy’s gotta eat, afterall. It had taken a while to figure out his own exact brand of vampirism, but Eddie’s gone a few years now without killing anything or anyone. He would be proud of it, but instead he watches Steve make dinner and feels sick on the aftertaste of iron and salt still coating his tongue.

Eddie had started watching Steve because it didn’t hurt, because Steve would take care of it, if Eddie ever needed to be put down. Eddie knows this.

So, it didn’t hurt so bad to watch Steve—until it did.

By then, Eddie was too far gone and couldn’t stop.

His Steve who came back to his lonely castle, days and days after that final battle, after the climax of the story, the end of a legend, still bloody and scorched, none the wiser to the monster peering through his windows, watching. And that was Eddie’s first clue, that was how Eddie first learned that he wasn’t really Eddie anymore—that nervous energy he used to have in life had died with him. Now he sits motionless in the tall pines behind Steve’s house for hours and days, unmoving, as he watches Steve live.

Sometimes, Steve looks out his window, eyes scanning the treetops like he knows Eddie’s there. Everytime, Eddie sits up a little straighter, like a dog eager for attention. But everytime, Steve’s eyes drift past him, unseeing, searching.

It leaves Eddie—already out of step with life, with humanity—a little unsettled, a little too hopeful. Eddie is a thing that shouldn’t be seen ever again, a dead man without a heartbeat, without breath in his lungs, without a reason to exist and yet still here. He wishes he were still dead. He wishes even more that Steve knew he was there, that Steve was looking for him. But Eddie knows better. Eddie can’t go to Steve, because Eddie is a monster and Steve has fought enough monsters. Eddie doesn’t want to get added to the list. He doesn’t want to do that to Steve.

Eddie sits in the trees instead, unmoving and watching for days and weeks. Sometimes he leaves, to feed. Sometimes he stands in the middle of Steve’s empty house when he’s gone, breathing in the lonely silence. Sometimes, he closes his eyes and dreams.

But they’re never his own dreams.

And he never, ever visits anyone else in their sleep, in their dreams and nightmares. No one, except for Steve. His Steve, who’s dreaming of a summer day, sun high in the sky, sitting on the top of skull rock with a six pack and a cigarette. It’s such a simple, beautiful dream. All of Steve’s dreams are like that. Eddie watches the line of Steve’s neck as he tilts his head back in the sunlight, face catching the July warmth.

Steve doesn’t startle when Eddie sits beside him. Just leans in until his head rests on Eddie’s shoulder. It’s beautiful, he’s so beautiful, Eddie wants to cry.

“I miss you,” Steve whispers, like it’s a secret. He presses a smile into Eddie’s jacket. “Isn’t that silly? I barely even knew you.”

Eddie has to swallow back the emotion filling his throat. “Yeah, that’s pretty silly,” he croaks.

“I wanted to though,” Steve sighs. He leans even closer, hands grasping at Eddie’s sleeve, the back of his shirt, and Eddie wishes they could melt into each other, become one thing, become Steve with just Eddie hiding between Steve’s ribs, in his blood, sitting in the center of his chest right next to his heart. “I wanted to know you. I wanted to kiss you so bad.”

If this were real, if they were really sitting on skull rock in the sunlight right now, if Eddie was human, he would be crying. But here, in Steve’s dream, he doesn’t, can’t. Maybe Steve doesn’t want him to be sad.

“Really?” he breathes instead. “Me?”

Steve hums, his hand sliding down into Eddie’s, fingers warm, soft. “Robin calls you my Great Bisexual Awakening.”

Eddie barks a laugh, throwing his head back. He wants to be sobbing, but he laughs instead and when he stops, Steve is looking up at him, painted dream soft and sweet. They watch each other, Eddie cataloging the specks of gold and green in Steve’s eyes. He’s beautiful.

But then Steve blinks, and the corner of his mouth turns down, smile falling away. Eddie feels his skin prickle. He feels watched.

“I miss you,” Steve says again, urgent. And then, just like that, he smiles again, and the feeling’s gone, and Steve presses his face once more into Eddie’s shoulder. “Tell me something.”

Eddie tries to shake off the feeling of disquiet, to relax back into the tenderness of Steve’s dream. “Like what?”’

“Something I don’t know.” He’s beautiful, so beautiful, and Eddie adores him, loves him so much.

“I wanted to kiss you, too.”

Eddie opens his eyes, his breath sharp in the silent forest, and watches as Steve sits up in his bed, gripping the blankets tight in his fists. Even from here, in his haven in the trees, he can see the tears on Steve’s face. He never wants Steve to cry.

When morning comes, he steals into Steve’s home, buries himself in the lingering warmth of his sheets after Steve leaves for work. The fading smell of him is intoxicating, even the salty sting of Steve’s tears, and Eddie wants so desperately. Wants him from the pain in his throat, the hitch in his breath, the way he’s been hollowed from the inside out. Everything has been taken out of Eddie, scooped from between his ribs and scraped smooth, an empty jack o’lantern waiting to rot on the front step.

The wanting is worse than the starving, the thirst. Eddie can’t cry anymore, he isn’t human enough to, but he wishes he could.

Instead, he lays in Steve’s bed, breathes him in, and disappears into the woods behind Steve’s home when he hears the rumble of Steve’s car turn onto the street. He watches as Steve falls into the bed, long gone cold since Eddie has soaked up all the warmth from the blankets in the long hours of Steve's absence. He watches, a monster, as Steve’s eyes glance through the window, eyes on the trees. Straightens up, hoping and wanting, and slumps as that gaze slides past him. He watches Steve’s evening with longing building in his chest, and when Steve slips beneath his covers, Eddie closes his eyes.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks.

Steve is sitting on the edge of his roof in this dream, watching the forest intently. He doesn’t turn his head towards Eddie, caught on a particular spot in the woods.

“You, I think. At least, I think it’s you. I hope it’s you.”

Eddie leans in close, hoping that Steve will turn his eyes, to look at Eddie, to give him that sweet, dreamy smile. “You shouldn’t bother waiting for something like me,” he tells Steve, desperate for those pretty eyes to look at him. “You should be happy.”

“I am happy,” Steve murmurs. He doesn’t look happy. He doesn’t look at Eddie. He watches the distant trees, standing guard. “I’m happy waiting. I think I can wait forever.”

Eddie doesn’t dare touch him, doesn’t dare turn Steve’s head. Even though it hurts. It hurts so bad, so Eddie opens his eyes. In the distance, Steve turns in his bed, chest expanding with a sleepy sigh, and doesn’t leave his dreams.

Morning comes again, and the night falls again, morning and night and morning. Eddie rises from his perch, glides closer to the empty house to steal through the unlocked door. He lays in Steve’s bed, in the shadow of Steve’s warmth left on the sheets. Breathes him in, even though Eddie needs no air. He leaves when he hears the rumble of a familiar engine. Night falls. He closes his eyes.

Eddie watches the way Steve sits on the edge of his roof again, feet dangling, eyes scanning the treeline at the back of his house, quiet and sentry. Like he’s waiting for another monster to appear between the tree trunks. Eddie sits beside him, and doesn’t speak, not even when Steve whispers, only once.

“I miss you.”

Morning comes again, and then night. Sun and moon, wax and wane. The summer heat does not bother Eddie, nor does the winter snow. He imagines building a family of snowmen in Steve’s yard, company for a lonely house. No one visits Steve here. Like they’d forgotten Steve altogether, and Eddie’s the only one left to bear witness to Steve Harrington. Steve who is lonely, who sleeps and dreams and waits for the monster in the woods. Or maybe…

Maybe Steve told them not to come here. Because here is only for Steve, and only for Eddie.

Night falls, and then the morning breaks. Steve doesn’t rise from the bed.

Uneasily, Eddie shifts. Snow slides from his shoulders, landing in heavy thumps on the forest floor below him. He watches as Steve rolls onto his back, arm over his eyes, mouth twisted in pain. Even from here, he can see the tears on Steve’s face. He watches Steve lay in bed the entire day, until night falls. Eddie closes his eyes.

Steve’s dream isn’t a dream this time—a vast darkness instead, stretching long and far. Eddie takes a hesitant step. Water splashes beneath his bare foot. He turns.

And suddenly, it’s like he can hear Steve in his ear, whispering, “I’m happy waiting. I think I can wait forever.”

Eddie turns again, and Steve is there, watching, waiting. Eddie feels the instinct of it, the prickling awareness of being seen. It settles over his skin, sharp and biting like ants. Eddie is the monster, and Steve has found him. His gaze roots Eddie where he stands, water lapping against his toes. The ripples roll away from him, stretching the unreachable distance between Eddie and Steve, distant stars, until they crash against Steve’s feet, and the water settles again, falls calm.

“I miss you though,” Steve whispers, right into Eddie’s ear. “I can wait forever, but I miss you.”

“Really?” Eddie asks. It echoes through the dark. He can see the way Steve smiles, even from so far away.

“Of course,” Steve whispers. “I’m waiting for—”

Dawn breaks through the trees, and Eddie opens his eyes with a gasp. The sound is sharp through the silent forest. Morning mist rises from the pine strewn ground. Steve isn’t in his bed anymore, and Eddie feels himself almost panic, gaze searching.

Searching, until he finds Steve, not even three feet up, sitting above his window on the roof. He stares out into the trees, stares right at Eddie, finally sees the monster in the woods. That gaze raises the hair on Eddie’s arm, animal instinct tightening his muscles, his bones. Steve watches him from his perch on the roof, watches Eddie watch him back.

He’s the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen.

Because Steve’s not standing guard. He’s waiting. Waiting for the thing in the woods, for Eddie to finally come home.

Eddie shouldn’t, shouldn’t go to him, but now that he knows, how can he make Steve wait a moment longer?

Steve gasps when he appears, but it’s not fear in his eyes when he looks at Eddie. Eddie feels it again, feels watched, feels seen. Steve looks up at him and his smile is the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen.

“There you are,” he whispers. “I missed you."

#steddie #steddie week 2024 #my fic #this is genuinely one of my favorite things i've written in a long time #so im posting the whole thing on tumblr too in case you don't wanna go to ao3 ahaha #this is super soft dw

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ladykailitha · 9 months

Text

Batshit Soulmates: in Medias Res

As promised, the soulmate AU you've all been waiting for. I don't have a set schedule for this. I'll post chapters as they come. That said, I do have a backlog of chapters to put out on the regular.

Summary: Steve's never met his soulmate. Even though everyone else in his life has. Most of them are even bonded. Literal teenagers got their soulmates before Steve. He tries not to take it personally. He tries really hard not to take it personally when he finds out it's Eddie Munson when he has a bottle at his throat. He tries even harder not to take personally when everything that could go wrong, does.

*throws chapter at you and runs*

***

“I just think we should wait,” Steve huffed for what felt like the millionth time. “Give our allies more time to get to Hawkins.”

“But the longer we wait,” Nancy growled back, “the likelihood of Vecna finding someone we don’t know to haunt and kill goes up.”

“Except we know who his next victim is!” Steve yelled back. “You! And excuse me for thinking that using you as bait would be better than a fifteen year old girl!”

“Steve!” Max hissed. “What the hell?!”

Steve looked down at his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked up at Nancy and dared her to tell him he was wrong.

But Nancy was stubborn. “The batteries on her Walkman are going to die sooner, rather than later. I know this whole thing sucks, but the longer we put it off the sooner Vecna could wipe out the whole town.”

Steve looked around the room for support and got none. He sighed. No one was on his side in this. But he could feel it. If they waited just five more minutes. But it was five minutes he wasn’t going to get.

He looked down at his feet again as Nancy started listing off who would go where. His head shot up when Dustin and Eddie were told to be the distraction.

“What?” he said. “No. Eddie is my soulmate.”

Robin put her hand his shoulder. “I know, but we can’t leave Dustin alone and you need to come with Nancy and me to kill Vecna.”

Steve’s face shuttered. So the choice was to go with the girls and protect them or go with Eddie and Dustin and protect them, leaving the girls to battle Vecna by themselves?

No.

No, no, no, no.

He had to protect everyone. Why couldn’t he protect everyone?

It was killing him.

“Just go!” Eddie said. “You know you’re going to be needed when it comes to killing this bastard. They’re going to need your strength.”

Steve let out a whine that had been caught in his throat. “You’re telling me to leave you...” He didn’t understand.

Eddie pressed his fingers into his eye. “It’s not because–it’s not what you think. Honest. This is just proper strategy and you know it. Dustin and I aren’t going to be doing anything but drawing the attention of the demobats away from you and the girls.”

Steve let out another noise of distress. He knew Eddie was right. He did. It just hurt that in the five days since meeting his soulmate, they had spent a total of less than a day together. And most of that was spent getting ready for this.

“All right,” he finally agreed.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief and that made Steve’s heart hurt. They weren’t counting on him to make the right decision. They weren’t counting on him to do the smart thing. Even Eddie had sighed in relief.

Steve shut down. Maybe his mother had been right. Maybe soulmates weren’t everything they cracked up to be. Maybe it was good he was find this out now, before he got too attached.

He gave his little speech and made them promise not to be heroes.

Eddie looked down at the ground and then back up at Steve’s retreating back. He closed his eyes and opened them slowly.

“Hey, Steve?” he called out.

Steve turned around, trying to keep the hope out of his eyes.

“Make him pay.”

Steve nodded and turned back around, his heart shattering in his chest. He was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Hoping for a declaration of love. Hoping that Eddie felt something for him. But despite Eddie’s reassurances that he no longer thought that Steve was douchebag, he still couldn’t get over the fact that he had been fated to be his soulmate.

He felt the ice creep up his chest to nestle around his heart. All his life he hoped that his soulmate would be the one that’d love him unconditionally when no one else could. But he guessed that was only for children’s fairy tales.

Steve had barely taken two steps when he heard the sound of running feet and then he was being spun around. He was suddenly face to face with Eddie and he couldn’t breathe. Eddie gently took his face in his hands and kissed him on the lips.

Steve had melted. That is the only explanation for how gooey his insides had become. Eddie pulled back.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he panted. “Be safe. Come back to me, okay, Stevie?”

Steve rested his head against Eddie’s. “You, too. I can’t lose you now. Please.”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie whispered. “Okay.”

Steve watched as his soulmate ran back to Dustin, his heart just as heavy, but now whole.

Robin tapped his shoulder. “Come on, Steve. Vecna needs to die so you can be together without having to always look over your shoulder.”

He closed his eyes and nodded. Nancy took his hand and gave it a squeeze. He let her lead him away from the best boy he had ever known to kill the person who was responsible for all the turmoil in their lives.

Shit.

Eddie looked up at the rope ladder in dismay. All around him he could hear the sounds of the demobats clawing their way through the vents. If he climbed the rope, they would break through the gate and Dustin would be a sitting duck.

They would both die.

“Get Steve on the walkie-talkie!” Eddie yelled. “Tell him the bats are about to break through this gate and I’m leading them away from you.”

“Eddie!” Dustin yelled. “Don’t!”

Eddie took a deep breath and cut the rope ladder.

“No!” Dustin yelled.

“Get Steve!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder as he strapped his makeshift spear and shield to back. He zipped up his jacket, knowing full well that armor was no good if it didn’t cover the bits that needed protecting. He took the bandanna off his hair and tied around his face.

God he hated this place.

He grabbed one of the bikes and hopped on. He just needed to give Steve, Nancy and Robin enough time to kill Vecna so that Dustin was safe.

That’s all he needed. Just two minutes.

Behind him he could hear the screech of the bats turn from the trailer to chase him. After all even a moving target out in the open is better than a sitting target in a tin can.

Eddie wasn’t sure how long he could outrun them. He wasn’t exactly in peak physical condition but he had to try.

It took him a bit to realize that subconsciously he hadn’t been running from Dustin, but to Steve. And just how fucked up was that. Which of course was when the front tire hit a small hole in the ground and he went tumbling, rolling in the dirt. His shield and spear prevented him from getting up and he thought for sure that this was the end.

But suddenly he was being righted and yanked to his feet.

“Eddie!” Steve called over the screeching of the bats.

“Steve!” Eddie called back. “Are the girls okay?”

Steve nodded. “I left Robin with the Malatov cocktails and Nancy with her shot gun. They’re kicking his ass.”

Eddie pursed his lips and nodded back. “Dustin is safe. Or as safe as I can make that kid.”

Steve closed his eyes. “He said you told him the bats were breaking in though the vents.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t want them to get to him or out into Hawkins, lynch mob aside, so I lead them away.”

Steve gave him a hug. “Well then, let’s keep their attention on us, shall we?”

“Bring it on!” Eddie yelled, pulling off his shield and spear.

Steve stood at his back, ax in one hand, nail bat in the other. He twirled them both, warming up his wrists as he stared up the sky that was now thick with bats.

And even though they had only fought together once before, they moved as one, anticipating each other’s movements and covering each other’s backs.

Steve hit a bat so hard its guts rained down upon them, spraying them with black goo. Eddie in turn protected them with his shield putting it in front of him as the bats slammed into it full force.

He could feel his feet sliding back, but Steve was there and he leaned backward, putting all his weight against Eddie to brace him up.

Eddie had been on the verge of giving up, tears streaming down his face as he fought against impossible odds. But Steve was there. And he remembered that every impossible thing he had ever thought in his life had be come possible in this one man. And he was damned if he wasn’t going to survive this too.

“I love you,” Steve whispered.

Eddie closed his eyes and whispered back. “I love you, too, Stevie.”

The bats soon realized that they couldn’t get through Eddie and turned, swirling in the sky and Eddie could feel it before it happened. They were going to attack Steve.

He pushed Steve to the ground and lifted his shield above their heads. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” Steve replied.

And then all the bats dived at once.

***

Yeah...don't expect a quick resolution to that. Just know, I'm a sucker for happy endings. ;)

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #soulmate au #alternate season 4 #robin/vickie #jancy #byler #dustin/suzie #lumax

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trashmouth-richie · 5 days

Text

⛧「 ✦ 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔢 ✦ 」⛧

⛧tattoo artist! steve 💋 ⛧rising rockstar! eddie

⛧eddie x fem reader | previous steve x fem reader

⛧reader is nicknamed cherry 🍒

⛧summary: series of blurbs revolving around you, eddie and steve. after vecna: eddie sold his soul to remain alive— him and steve leave hawkins and indiana to go to college and leave what happened in the past. eddie is on the rise of fame while steve is still battling his demons. they both meet reader at school. reader has no idea what happened, and never finds out the truth. eddie progressively turns into a mentally abusive asshole throughout this story so keep that in mind. he’s not our lovable boyfriend.

⛧part one summary: a surprise for your boyfriend, you decide to get a tattoo of his name in a very private spot, from the only one he would trust to do it, his best friend… whom you have a past with.

⛧warnings: implied smut, depression, anxiety, possession, selling soul to devil, post s4 where both eddie and steve leave hawkins. there will be a few blurbs in this au, (in other parts: smut, degrading, possessive mean! eddie)

It was your idea to surprise your boyfriend with a tattoo. After months of him joking around about branding you as his in a more permanent way, you decided to do it.

A tattoo would last forever, it wouldn’t heal like teeth marks did or fade away like his hickeys would. His dick kicked up at the thought of his name scratched into your delicate skin. The same night he had mentioned it he had you face down in the sheets, burying himself deep within your walls until you were both out of breath. Panting, aching for and from one another.

The date was set, and you knew better than to go to anyone but Eddie’s best friend to get it done, and Steve agreed to do it for free, since you’re Munson’s girl.

He agreed to keep it secret because you had wanted to surprise Eddie, but as the appointment creeped up, you became more and more nervous about trying to keep your present for him under wraps.

The day of the appointment landed on a Friday, the same night Eddie’s band was set to play at The Bloody Dime, an up and coming bar that was known for fights breaking out and drinks being cheap.

Per his demands, you weren’t allowed within 10 feet of such a place, already having to find out the hard way when he beat the bricks off a guy who wouldn’t stop staring at you.

Pretty baby like you doesn’t belong there, kitten… understand?

Steve’s shop was downtown from your apartment, a cozy little space nestled into a black brick building—Inked Demo spelled out with neon blue lights.

The walls were covered with paintings of strange creatures you couldn’t imagine in your worst nightmares, deep reds and violent shades of purple. Various plants hung from the ceiling and were potted in planters or tucked into ornate little terrariums.

It smelled of rich cedar and hand rolled cigarettes. The bell on the door dinged announcing your arrival and Steve stepped from behind the back wall. His hair was how it always was, slicked back in a dark wave, and he merely nodded to acknowledge your presence.

“Cherry,” he greeted, using the name Eddie had introduced you to his friends. He wrapped you in a bone crushing hug, kissing your cheek gently before he held you at arms length.

Out of all of Eddie’s friends, Steve knew you just as well as your own boyfriend did.

A smile creeps across his lips as he lets your arms go and walks to a small desk. His tall frame slinking like a shadow as he clicks on a slim lamp and begins flipping through a binder full of current work and past tattoos. He finds the heart shaped cherries with Eddie written in pretty cursive underneath.

They were perfect— Steve was able to capture your ideas through horrible explanations and give his own little twist to them. A modern mockup of American traditionalism with the speckles of glitter you had seen on Pinterest.

His eyes sparkle through the shadow from the light as he proudly holds up the drawing, “so… where we puttin’ this sucker?”

Originally you had thought to put it on your chest, but decided against it when Robin had told you how much her tattoo had hurt there, even more so when she had to get Barb’s name covered by a butterfly.

Crossing the tiger print carpet to the black tattoo chair, you sit down gently with your ankles crossed, “umm, would it be weird to put it on my thigh?” you asked meekly, “kinda high up so it’s a little more private?”

Raising your skirt, you show Steve the placement. A slivered peek of scarlet lacy panties are visible beneath the hiked up fabric in your fingers, and he nearly bites a hole in his cheek to not look.

“You could put it there,” he ponders, moving a large veiny hand through the slick of his hair, only to land on his chin to really sell the act of him thinking, tapping his bottom lip, “but ass tats are really popular.”

Eddie would go berserk seeing his name anywhere on your body, but you had to admit— there was something a little bit sexy about his name being tattooed only somewhere he could see.

“Will it hurt?”

His eyes light up as he grabs supplies to sanitize his work area clearing his throat, “haven’t had anyone cry yet, so I’m gonna go ahead and say no.”

Steve’s reputation for his artwork spread far and wide, he was booked solid for months on end, self taught, making tons of money for a college drop out— despite what his dad had said.

He had done all of Eddie’s tattoos including the enormous stretch of bat wings that spread across his shoulders and down the expanse of his back. Sharp talons protruding onto the beginning of his hips, curved around to his wrists. Steve had freehanded most of it, as if it were from memory.

Biting your lip contemplating the placement, you think of Eddie and the swelling size of is cock as it split you open once he laid eyes on his name branded into your skin.

“Okay,” you smile, “let’s do it.”

Steve smirked and rubbed his jaw, “cool, lay on your stomach for me.”

Flipping onto your front you lay with your hands under your chin, looking up at him through your lashes, “like this?”

Steve sits on the stool facing away from you, straightening his table and tattoo gun, looking over his shoulder meeting your eye, “yeah… that’s perfect, Cherry.”

You watch in amusement as he sterilizes his work station and sets up the ink, “Eddie playin’ at the Dime tonight?”

“Yep,” you sigh, thinking of all the time you’d spent alone while he was gone, “last show of their College Daze Tour, then back to finals, and normal life.”

A scoff rumbles from Steve’s throat as he wraps his gun, “what’s even considered normal? Everything is pretty shitty around here.”

Propping up on an elbow you set to argue with him, “going to class is normal, hanging out with our friends, partying, sleeping in the same bed instead of him crashing in the back of someone’s van— that’s all routine for me, for us…” you sigh a little, picking at your thumbs.

Steve looks over and sees the sadness in your face, grabbing the pink disposable razor, “last I heard from him, he was looking to leave Corroded and start up somethin’ with a few guys from here. Can’t say I blame him, anything to do with home is hard to deal with.”

Eddie never talked about Hawkins. The only thing you knew about it was that he and Steve got the hell out of there the year he graduated, never looking back, never visiting.

“That’s the plan for now at least… honestly, I wish he would take a break for a while, but you know him— he’s really driven to be the best he can be.”

Steve knew all too well. Spending nights awake staring out of his large apartment windows, missing the way things used to be, regretting everything that happened in Hawkins.

“Eddie’s…passionate…about the things he cares about, he’s always been that way.”

That part was always true, Eddie carried his feelings on his sleeve, never afraid to show his emotions, or make sacrifices for people he loved. Steve himself was a living breathing reminder of that.

“…alright Cherry,” his voice dripped with smoothness as he got closer to you, “everything’s ready…I’ll need to lift your skirt so I can prep the skin, you cool with that?”

You reply with a yes, and feel the goosebumps prick at your skin as the cool air hits your exposed cheek. The rubber of Steve’s glove drags across your skin as he rubs in the sanitation spray. “‘m gonna shave you now.”

This being your first tattoo you didn’t know what to expect, heat flooding your cheeks immediately, “oh my God is it hairy?”

Steve chuckles low, a fan of his breath blowing warm against your skin, “not at all honey, it’s just standard procedure for any tattoo.”

He was delicate as he ran the blade across you in small motions away from him. One rubber gloved hand held your skin taut, the other on the razor. Your ass bounced back to him after the last drag of the razor leaves your skin, and you swore you heard him suck in a breath.

Steve had always been handsome, ever since the first time you met during that freshman year mixer in the backyard of some random frat house it was that he was rushing for.

He was different then, preppy clothes and expensive shoes, surviving during the week just to live for the weekends. A flask with his name claim permanently pressed to his palm. King Steve.

But somewhere along the lines of college stresses and life back in Hawkins— he changed, dropped out of college completely and dove into his natural talent. Making a name for himself, carving his own path.

That was why you had fallen for him to begin with.

“E-Eddie said you have a date this weekend, are you excited?”

Steve wipes your skin with a paper towel and spreads a thick ointment to lay the stencil, “I wish he’d stop trying to set me up.”

His thumbs sweep across the stencil laying it firmly in place, “oh c’mon Steven…Lydia’s cute, she’s in one of my elective art classes, she reminds me of you.”

Steven. Nobody ever called him by his full name.

“Of me?”

Looking over your shoulder you meet his deep mossy eyes, “in a weird way I guess, yeah.”

He looks back into your eyes, watching as you slowly blinked and drifted your gaze downward to where his large hands were still splayed across your ass.

The dusting of hair on his arms tickled your skin when he pulled back gently, pinching a corner of the transfer paper and peeling it from you. He purses his lips and blows on the stencil lightly.

Steve often thought back to the way things were three years ago. The way your eyes gleamed under the string patio lights, the scent of your vanilla perfume and how it seemed to bake deeper with the sun's rays on your skin.

He remembered how your lips tasted like melted ice cream against his, and how deeply he craved to be floating in the candy confectionery of sugar and sprinkles with you in the center of it, center of his world.

Steve shakes his head, trying to erase that time in his life but always coming up short. “This won’t hurt too bad, I’ll stop whenever you need, okay? It’s best if you lay down.”

Your chest tightens with nerves as you nod your head, pressing your cheek into the vinyl of the black headrest.

The gun starts and Steve tells you he’s going to do the outline of the cherries first. The needle vibrates into your skin and you wince at the first few lines made but eventually getting used to the way your skin buzzed and the pain that came from it.

You whimpered out in a few spots and Steve’s velvet voice shushed you gently, telling you the worst was almost over.

“Outlining is finished,” Steve murmurs, rubbing ink from your skin, “you’re doing really good, honey.”

Your mind slips to him saying those words in a different setting, a miniature golf course with clubs that were too short and a go-kart track. He had said it when you finally sunk your ball after par ten thousand on hole eleven.

Sarcasm spread across his face and you wiggled your tongue at him and threw a middle finger his way. Only for him to chase you around the tiny windmills and grassy hills, catching up and tickling you under your arms until you were near to tears.

You thought he would have kissed you that night, but to your surprise and dismay— he had waited for the third official date.

“Thank you,” you smile weakly.

He returns the smile and looks away, clearing his throat, “the shading will be a cake walk, we’ll be done here before you know it…might even catch the end of Eddie’s show.”

“Really?” you say with a spring of hope in your voice. He couldn’t dismiss how his friend's name made his mouth taste like poison, but how it made you weak in the knees. “That would be great, Steve.”

“Sure thing princess,” he nearly whispered, “lay back now, I’ll be done soon.”

Steve tried to blank it all out as his tattoo gun spelled Eddie in a cursive calligraphy he knew was yours. Letter by letter he swallowed down the feelings he had been harboring from you, from him— from everyone.

He wished he had never taken you to that concert. He loathed himself for the way Eddie slithered between the two of you, how Eddie could have had any girl at that after party but he chose you simply because you were with him.

Steve tried to deny him of it, tried to steer him toward another girl, a girl who wasn’t you. One he hadn’t been in love with, one who didn’t appear in his dreams despite the nightmares clouding in. But one low growl and a flash of those sharp fangs and Steve knew he didn’t stand a chance.

Letter by letter he branded his friend’s name into your skin, giving the girl he loved a silent goodbye with every curve and final dot of the ‘i’.

“All done,” he said with a shaky throat, cleaning you up, “wanna see it?”

You nod and reach for his outstretched hand, swinging your legs and standing to follow him to the mirror. It was perfect. Equal parts colorful yet traditional with a spark of modern flare added to it.

“Steve,” you gasp, mouth hung open in adoration, “it’s beautiful!”

He rubs his neck and watches your reflection in the mirror, the way your mouth ticks up on the ends into the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

His heart was aching knowing it wasn’t for him

#eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #steve x reader #steve fanfic

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sheisjoeschateau · 8 months

Text

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART III

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mega plot-driven smut ahead in this part of the story. you've been warned. MINORS, DNI. 18+

***

Despite everything, you and Steve both get through battling Vecna. You both grin and bear it. You both set aside your differences when the moment calls for it.

Just like you have before. Many times.

And in the midst of it all, you can't help but wonder about your uncle. How he's doing. If he's somewhere in his bunker still, hopefully drinking less (ideally, not at all) and keeping up his phone calls with Joyce. You'd told her to keep tabs on him, and you also told your uncle to keep tabs on her. They needed each other. You had the kids and the teens, but they needed each other. And sure, your uncle has you. Always. But you have to work, and babysit, and hang around a guy who hates your guts because the circumstances won't permit otherwise.

Eddie and Robin really stick up for you. They do. They really like you. Steve can’t stand it.

Even Nancy doesn’t mind you. Honestly, she’s scared of you more than anything. Steve doesn’t care.

The kids love you. Steve won’t make them hate you. He never would. But he won’t endorse their kind sentiments about you either.

More groups are formed, along with more plans. Scary, life-threatening plans.

You stay behind with Dustin and Eddie, knowing that Steve is quietly a basket case over the concept leaving Dustin alone without having him there to protect him from all this shit, the way he has before. With the demodogs, the Russians, and everything up to this point. That kid is his brother. His son.

It’s the only time that Steve tells you thank you.

And he sincerely means it.

By the grace of some unspeakable force, you manage to not only keep Dustin alive...but also Eddie. The bats have done their damage, and you've got some damage yourself. Though not nearly as bad as Eddie. You can withstand yours with adrenaline and the sheer need to protect one of your kids and get this metalhead back to the real world so that he can get proper medical attention.

When Steve and the girls all get back to the three of you there, after all the shit hits the fan - you, Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin all manage to get Eddie back across the gate and get him majorly patched up. Thanks to Dr. Owens.

You keep Eddie hidden at Murray's bunker. You're shocked to find it empty, your worry growing more every single minute. But Steve tries to assure you that your uncle is likely fine, probably just out to eat or something. However... even he knows that is not true. Murray does not go anywhere.

"Bauman," he's saying to you, softly. So softly. Softer than he's ever spoken to you once. "He's gonna be okay. I promise. We're here, alright?"

Two days later, Jonathan and his Cali crew all show up. Nancy and him are reunited.

And you watch Steve break.

He doesn’t let it show, not really. But you see it. Both you and Robin do. You let her comfort him. He needs his best friend, much more than he needs you. Especially in this situation. You are undoubtedly the last source of comfort for him in this specific instance.

You reunite with your Uncle Murray, who has returned with Joyce and — to your surprise — a very much alive Hopper. It’s a beautiful reunion, as you all hug tightly.

You all fucking lived, bitch.

Given the new flurry of debris-snow-shit in the air, you all end up having to take shelter.

Steve volunteers his house, given that his parents fled to their vacation home and he told them he wasn’t going. They ditch him, so he has the house all to himself. This time, he doesn’t have to be alone though. He has his real family.

You all move into the Harrington House. Lord knows it’s big enough. But it’s also really tight, for two people who can’t stand each other unless there’s a really ugly monster guy waltzing around that needs to be killed along with his multi-species army of little uglies.

Given the close quarters, on top of the fact that you all can’t leave the house much unless it’s for supplies, you and Steve have no choice but to coexist.

He still resents you, especially seeing Nancy and Jonathan are now getting along again and seem to be doing better. But it's much more subdued now, and you both find a way to talk. Which happens mainly because of you, initiating.

You learn more about Steve's home life, given the pictures everywhere throughout the house. They're all pretty stiff, lacking warmth. You figured that Steve was a pretty lonely trust fund baby, and being that you're a lonely child you can relate to the loneliness that comes with that. Not the trust fund part. Just the only-child-syndrome part, which you know perfectly well forces you to either become very well acquainted with yourself...or hate yourself even more. Steve clearing did not lean into becoming his own source of reliability and companionship, the way that you did. And it made you understand him better. It made you understand why he needed to be around the likes of Carol and Tommy H. He did not know how to be alone with himself.

"I think my dad and I don't even like the same beer," Steve scoffs, allowing himself a humorless chuckle. You don't laugh with him, instead giving him a soft look. An apology with your eyes.

"And my mom, she just...I dunno. Sometimes, I wonder why she never left him."

You let Steve reveal as little or as much as he wants to. It just depends on the day.

The two of you watch out for the kids. You both go with them to visit Max in the hospital. You even initiate finding a way to get her to stay there while in a coma, thanks to enlisting the help of your uncle to help enlist the help of Dr. Owens. The kids love you for that.

Steve doesn’t love you… But he appreciates you.

A lot. He's beginning to find appreciation for you, for a lot of things.

Your uncle clocks the very niche tension between the two of you, now that you’re all under the same roof and he’s given no choice but to.

And damn, it makes him curious. He is, after all, the witch doctor of love…

Nevertheless, Murray takes his time choosing when to strike.

As you and Steve both help nurse Eddie back to health, and read to Max in her coma (which leads to both of you just simply talking), and make the kids laugh together, and even make conversation with Nancy and Jonathan (…it’s very double date ish) Murray watches his niece — and mannnnnn, is he amuuuuuused.

One night, you and Steve stay up to share some drinks with the adults. It’s the first time that the two of you actually make each other really laugh, heartily. The drinks help.

That’s sort of Murray’s plan. Vodka is, after all, the holy grail.

Even Eddie joins, along with Robin. But Steve sits next to you. Not his best friend, or the new friend he’s made in the metalhead. Nope, he sits his perfect, hunky ass that makes all the ladies drool right next to little ole you.

And damn, do you both laugh.

Murray’s never seen you laugh that hard with anyone in his life. He wonders if you’ve ever laughed that way at all.

And the way that Harrington looks at you? Especially when you’re not looking… Holy shit.

And the way you look at him the same way... makes Murray grin ear to ear like a mischievous kid with the plan to wreak havoc.

Hopper and Joyce are so settled into their relationship, and Jonathan seems to be winning back the love of Nancy. Eddie and Robin are so single it hurts, but it's legendary too. And you? Steve? Well, you guys are mortal enemies. And yet somehow, sitting here in the Harrington's living room with glasses of chilled vodka, belly-laughing over anything -- you and Steve exude more chemistry than all of them combined.

So when everyone goes to bed, and Murray catches you alone, he grills you. Not like the others. Nah, you’re family. He’ll cut you some slack.

…not much, though.

It sobers you right up.

"Do not tell me for one second that you don't think he's gorgeous," your uncle is saying in a low voice. You're both standing in his bedroom, having fetched him a tall glass of water which turned out just be a way to fucking lure you into his witchdoctor trap.

"I love you Uncle Murray. I really do. But this theory? -- is not one of your other bullseye's."

"Face it, kiddo," your uncle is smirking. "Your uncle's never wrong. You're just never the one on the other end of his lectures when he's making astute observations. You're always contributing to it. But this time? You're the leading lady, darling."

"False."

"You like Steve."

"Murray...!"

"You like Steve..."

You try to tell your uncle that everything he is saying is nonsense. Steve hates you. He absolutely hates you. Loathes and despises you, and plans to do so until you’re all particles of dust.

“Plus, he is so fucking annoying and whiny and entitled and has zero self respect unless it’s up against someone who calls him out for his shit,” you tell your uncle, gesturing to yourself on the last part. “Steve Harrington is a cocky guy who would just rather suffer in his own misery than ever see or lean into being this...this incredible man that he's...capable of being, the role model he has become to those kids, who love him, they love the human most deserving of being put first —”

.................

…oh fuck.

The silence is deafening. Murray’s smirk and all-knowing glare only adds to your being aware of what you just said to him, and admitted to yourself, out loud.

“Oh…oh so we do love Steve.”

Your uncle’s words are the cherry on top of the cake you just baked, and didn’t know you had the ingredients to make.

You don’t sleep that night.

***

The next morning, you and Steve both sit with Max.

"Wondering what she wrote in yours?"

Steve is nodding at the stack of letters on the bedside table. You all left them there, promising yourselves not to open them. Because she will wake up.

Lucas took it hard, Max dying. You'd been there to hold him, comfort him, along with Steve. You both watched him burst into tears numerous times, sometimes sobbing uncontrollably, despite the fact that she was somehow still here. It broke both your hearts, but you both got through it with him. Together.

And while the other kids were taking it hard too...so fucking hard...it was Steve who carried the most guilt. Remorse, anguish and guilt.

"I failed my kid," Steve had told you at the hospital once. You looked at him with a furrowed brow and concerned eyes.

"Steve, no you didn't."

His voice shook, eyes drowning in nightmarish thoughts. "I wasn't there for her. I wasn't -- wasn't..."

"You could never fail those kids. Not even if you tried."

He didn't believe you. But he wanted to. You had squeezed his hand that day, sitting in the waiting room. And to your surprise, not only did he let you...but he squeezed it back, letting your hands rest that way for an hour as you fell asleep in the seats before being woken up.

And now, sitting in one of his guest rooms while Max lay asleep in the coma still, you can see that guilt in him is spreading.

Steve is holding the letter that she gave to him, and you ask him if he’s wanting to read it.

Steve snorts. "God, you kidding? She'll wake up just to kill me before going right back to sleep."

You smirk, biting back a real laugh. “True.”

But Steve looks conflicted. He fiddles with the letter in his hands, wanting to tear it open. You know that he does.

“…want me to read it out loud to you instead? She can kill me in your place.”

Steve chuckles at that.

...but he doesn’t say no.

In fact, after biting his lip for a minute and thinking, he finds himself nodding. Yes. Please, read it to me, he’s thinking.

So you do.

You take the letter and read it to him. You read him the words that only a little sister could write to a big brother who she loves and wishes she will grow up to be like. You read him words that make him light up like a Christmas tree, yet cause him a painful ache deep within his bones. You read him a letter of love that no one ever took the time to write, let alone express, to him his entire life.

Steve fights tears. He bites them back, successfully. You’re the last person he ever wants to see him vulnerable. Hell, he can’t even see himself like that without judging his own self harshly. He can only imagine that you will, too.

He doesn’t know, though, that not only would you never judge him for that. But selfishly, you wish he would feel safe with you. Or God, someone at least. Just not Nancy. Someone who deserves him wholeheartedly.

"Steve," you speak softly.

He's staring into space, zoned out. But then, he finally looks over at you. He sees the kindness in him, and it almost takes his breath away. The way that you look at him...he just never thought you could...that you could --

"You're all of these things. Everything she wrote in this? You're all of it. And then some. You're the hero all those kids dream of being when they grow up. You're their favorite person. The one they trust, go to for everything. Even if you don't think that they do, they do."

He listens, unable to move. Speak. Breathe.

"You are...a great person, Steve Harrington."

***

That night, there’s a knock on your door. You’ve been given the guest room upstairs with no bunk mate. Unlike most of the people in the house. But given that Joyce and Hopper are together now, and El sleeps in Max’s room to keep watch, the four younger boys share a room with Eddie, Nancy is with Jonathan, Erica sleeps at her own house and Robin shares Steve’s room since she splits her time here and at home — you and Murray got the solo rooms.

Steve is now grateful for those sleeping arrangements tonight.

Because when you open the door, he’s on the other side. He looks sad, conflicted and lost. Like his mind is racing at a million miles an hour, yet can’t think of anything to say. He’s tongue tied, just staring at you expectantly…

What is he expecting?

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Is it Max?”

Something about your question makes Steve brows pinch together. Like it’s suddenly confusing him even more. But he doesn’t speak.

You wait patiently. But truth be told, you are anxious as fuck. Because damn, he’s pretty. He is so stupid pretty. And fuck it’s annoying. His lips are just the right shape in a pout, and it’s really fucking annoy —

His lips are crashing into yours before you can even finish dissecting them.

Steve is kissing you like life depends on it. Gentle at first, but eager. Determined.

And when you both pulls back -- you don’t hesitate for more than a solid 2-3 seconds, your eyes shocked while his eyes silently ask, is this okay?

Your lips crashing back against his answers — yes.

Steve is a hurricane of both madness and all things serene in the ways that he touches your body. He explores your skin with his lips and hands, as if he has all the time in the world. The curve of your jaw and neck. The jut of your collarbones. The feel of your clavicle, which leads him to the shape of your tits and nipples. He cherishes your body, hungrily exploring it. It’s heated, hot and heavy. He licks a stripe down your abdomen to the waistband of your sweatpants. The way his brown irises look up at you, all round and doe eyed, makes the back of your throat groan with need. It’s not loud or brash, nor is it strained and quiet. It’s soft but certain. Steve melts at it, his fingers curling one by one around the band of your sweatpants, his eyes still asking — please?

You’re nodding without even having to hear a word out of him. And Steve pulls.

Euphoria is the feeling of Steve’s tongue exploring your folds. It’s the sound of him sighing into your portal in pure pleasure, and the way he sucks your clit with fervency yet flicks it with supple patience. His hands knead into your thighs, one of them reaching to squeeze your hips so that he can pull himself up to you and let you taste yourself on his tongue. He wraps an arm underneath your waist, hooking you to him, asking in the breathiest of whimpers, “Please let me, angel.”

He’s getting a fistful of your hair into one of his big hands, adoring the way that you squeak a yelp. You suck on his tongue, hard, and it’s enough to drive him mad. He pins himself against you, grinding. But you sit up, keeping your bodies glued together and now using your teeth to tug on his lip and paralyze him in pure ecstasy. You take the opportunity to slide your teeth and tongue down his jaw and neck, trailing pecks and kisses along the way, and the throaty whimper he lets out makes you see stars behind your hooded eyes as you drag your tongue down his chest. The wet stripe you’re leaving glides down to his toned abdomen’s bunny trail, and as you curl your fingers around his sweatpants, you pause… letting your lips press the most fluttery of kisses to each of his scars.

Steve can’t help the shudders, sighs and whimpers that escape his lips, along with your name. It’s raw, uncensored. He clutches your hand, which you extend up to him in a greedy grab as you slowly work his pants down with your other hand. You hook your fingers onto his chin, forcing him to let go of your hand in his and look down at you. He does, and it’s game over. You watch him and never break eye contact as you use both hands to push down his briefs…

…and thank God for that — because otherwise, you would see just what you’re up against as far as pleasuring him goes.

You feel the tip of his hard length tap your chin, and you scoot farther down into the mattress — on your knees like a perfect angel. Your tongue plays with its head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum, and Steve is shaking so hard he can’t stand it. He clenches his jaw, gritting out blissful curses through his teeth. “Fuck, baby, fuck.”

You take in the intense length of him, pleasuring him until he is touching the back of your throat and nearly gagging you senseless, and the mess he is up above you — it sends your mind into a tailspin. He has never looked so pretty, eyes squeezed shut except when he’s glancing back down at you with more fondness and adoration than you ever thought possible from not only a man who hates you…but any man at all.

And when Steve is just about to cum, he begins to beg. “P-please. Wait, please.”

His hands urgently cup your jaw, forcing you to look back up at him and cease your sickeningly perfect work. He pulls, and you follow. He drinks you in with his gaze, staring into your soul, as if he’s trying to figure you out. He stares and stares, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his brown eyes searching yours like you are the most beautiful mystery he has ever needed to solve. He looks as though he might ask you something. Say something...

But he dives in to kiss you again before he lets himself.

His hand wraps around the bend of one of your knees, tugging it up so that he can hook your leg around his waist. Then he does it to the other. And before you know it, you’re straddling him.

“Fuck, Bauman, please,” Steve Harrington groans into your mouth. Then softer, murmuring against your lips as he kisses them endlessly, “please let me, please.”

And you know what he is asking. You know what he wants. You don’t have to even think twice. Lifting yourself up, lining him with your entrance, he stretches you out and the euphoric sting of it sucks the air right out of you. And Steve.

Steve is winded by the feeling of how tight your walls are, and by just how right it feels to be inside of you. You both fit. Like a perfect match.

At this point, you’re both a frenzy of fucking. You ride him – slow, hard, fast, all of it. Steve keens into your mouth, then your neck as he buries his face there — completely overwhelmed. You hold his head there, comfortingly and securely, and so fucking perfectly as your fingers tug at the ends of his perfect hair.

“I’ve got you, baby,” your voice shakes in a breathy whisper, just for him. “Let it all go.”

And Steve does. His fingers dig into the curve of your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he presses the loud growl of his climax into your bare shoulder. He releases himself into you, hot and loaded, and you drip just as much onto him as he just shot into you.

As if that wasn’t enough to send you reeling — enough to make you see angels and devils and god — it’s the way that Steve shudders against you, catching his breath…and then pulls back to look at you…that renders you speechless.

His hairline leaks sweat, his face beaded with it. His eyelids are hooded, the dark brown irises dazed and daring to meet your gaze. His lips are parted perfectly — and the way he looks up at you with his tousled hair, somehow still perfect after it’s been pulled and messed with, is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Steve Harrington is so fucking beautiful. He’s an all-American boy, yet a Greek god.

The way that Steve gently brings your forehead to his, breathing against you, closing his eyes at the contact — you find yourself timidly nuzzling the tip of your nose to his. And you feel him smile against you, opening your eyes just enough to steal a peek — and that’s when you feel a deep ache in your heart and soul that might as well kill you.

Because now you realize. That is love.

Steve is love.

But you let it die inside of you tonight, not wanting to make this moment end any sooner than it has to. Instead, you let Steve entangle his limbs with yours, not daring to ask if he wants to stay. Because if you do, he’ll likely leave. He’ll realize that being in bed with you is the last place that he wants to be, and that he’s made a mistake. He’ll go back to hating you, more than he already does, and it will be the death of you. So instead, you just let it ride out however it’s supposed to.

You try not to count the minutes as Steve absentmindedly traces circles with his fingertips on your skin. Your hip bones, your shoulder blades, your spine. You tell yourself to forget that time and its limits exist as you stroke the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, your temple against his forearm, his outer arm draped over you. You tell yourself that this is it. This is heaven. This is eternity. You tell yourself even if you wake up and it’s just a dream, you’ll remember it for as long as you live. Because on the other side of death is this, and it will never end.

You let that ease your mind as he presses his lips to your forehead and you no longer fight sleep.

So when you do wake up…and find that Steve is still there…you’re shocked. But you stay that way until he wakes. He looks at you in awestruck wonder. Not confusion or regret. Just…wonder.

He props himself up on an elbow, still looking at you, deep in thought. All you can do is stare back, wishing you knew what the hell he was thinking but not daring to ask. It wasn’t worth risking this. You stay that way for a little while.

He finally breathes a sigh, whispering, “Kids will be up soon.”

You give him a soft smile and gentle nod. You can already see Dustin waking up to go knock down Steve’s door, and that’s…not gonna end well if he finds out that Steve is walking out of your room instead.

Steve contemplates god-knows-what for another long moment before pressing a quick kiss into your hairline as he rises.

You watch him stand and dress himself, your heart throbbing at the way he looks in the early morning light streaming through the windows. His body is god-like. Tall, lean and athletic. His skin has the most beautiful constellation of moles that put the entire galaxy of stars to shame. And you ache at the thought of never being able to touch them again.

He gives you a soft grin after he throws his t-shirt back on, and before you know it he’s gone.

You lay there staring at nothing, feeling yourself leak a couple of silent tears and wondering why. You find yourself afraid to get up and face whatever new reality lies ahead of you on the other side of that door.

***

thanks for reading :) comment to be added to my tag list for this series.

tags: @erastourvip @xprloki @get0ut0fmyr00m @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #dustin henderson #murray bauman #enemies to lovers trope #they're in love your honor #Murray is a schemer #sorry stancy

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runninriot · 3 months

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no reason to hide

written for @steddie-week day 1 | prompt: secret relationship

rated: t | wc: 4.5k | tags: Max POV, Max & Eddie friendship, Max & Steve Friendship, Steve and Eddie are keeping secrets, coming out, post Vecna, everybody lives | complete fic on ao3

The first time she notices something strange is going on between Eddie and Steve, is when Max wakes up in the middle of the night from one of those ghastly dreams that have been haunting her since the whole Vecna fiasco went down.

She does what she always does when she can’t fall back asleep - goes to sit on the steps outside of her home to listen to the familiar sounds of the trailer park, looking at the sky, the stars and the moon, reminding herself that she’s back in the real world. That the Upside Down and all its monsters are a memory of the past.

It’s been almost a year and things have finally gone back to how they were. Well, mostly.

Sure, those nights where the monsters come crawling back into her subconscious are draining sometimes, but after everything that happened to her, nightmares, a walking stick, and glasses are a small price to pay. She could’ve paid a much higher one, could’ve lost it all. She’s fine. And at least the nightmares are a burden they all share.

Her friends have them too, those restless nights. And even if that doesn’t make it better, the fact that they are in this together makes it easier, at least.

Max knows she can always count on them – her now-again-boyfriend Lucas and the stupid but lovable dorks Dustin and Mike. Even El and Will, who went back to California, are always just one phone call away.

She has Steve, who – while Nancy and Robin went off to college – didn’t leave.

He’s still here, still taking care of them in his annoyingly loving way, even though they don’t need him to be their protector anymore, technically.

She’d never say it out loud, would rather eat her own tongue than to admit it, but to know that he’s part of her life is kind of... comforting. Because he’s graduated from babysitter to friend long ago, has proven time and again that he’s a good guy with a big heart. Max likes him a lot, can understand why Dustin was always so drawn to him.

And then, there’s Eddie.

Before being caught in a war against evil and nearly walking into the light at the end of the tunnel together, she never really cared much for him at all. (And no, she did not have a very stupid, very tiny crush on him when she learned about him playing guitar in this awesome band. Anyone who suggests otherwise can talk it out with her fist, okay?!)

She had often wondered how much truth was behind all the rumours, the Satanic Freak allegations. Because while he obviously liked to cause trouble every now and then, he always seemed... nice. A little boisterous, maybe, but never violent or evil.

And then she got to know him when they were trying to prove his innocence while being caught in their final battle against evil, and realised how much they had in common.

How Eddie, like her, wears a mask to protect his vulnerable pieces inside. Carrying the burden of a broken home and too much pent-up anger on his shoulders.

Max sees a version of herself in Eddie, and seeing how far he’s come – even if he himself doesn’t think he has – is encouraging, in a way.

She never told anyone, but out of everyone, Eddie might have played the biggest part in her recovery.

When she opened her eyes for the first time after being in a coma, the first blurry face she saw wasn’t Lucas or Steve or even her own mother.

No. It was Eddie.

Half his body in bandages, leaning heavy on his crutches holding him upright where he was standing beside her hospital bed, smiling down at her, which looked painful because of the stitches on his left cheek, but it was warm and friendly and honest.

And in that moment, when the memories came back and the world came crushing down, Max was glad it was him that watched her fall apart. Because with Eddie, she didn’t feel the need to pretend that she was fine. He let her cry and wince in pain without commenting on it, just took her hand – no words of pity, no promises of false hopes, just a tight squeeze of her hand in silent support.

Their friendship evolved from there, got even stronger when they were both fighting their way through physical therapy, from frustrating setbacks to miraculous accomplishments.

He’s annoying sometimes, like a brother, but he’s the kind of friend that you love to fight with because you know they’ll never hold a grudge; Eddie's friendship is unconditional and Max cherishes that more than she'd ever tell him.

Eddie, like her, finds it hard to sleep sometimes. So, more times than not, when she goes to sit on the steps in the middle of the night, she finds him outside his own trailer – smoking in silence or listening to music with his headphones on.

They don’t usually talk, just share a few moments together in peace until their minds have calmed enough for them to get ready to conquer another day.

This is why Max doesn’t startle when she hears the familiar squeak of the Munson’s trailer door. Only when a car door gets slammed close, does she look up.

Weirdly enough, it isn’t Eddie who’s going for a ride. It isn’t his van that slowly turns and rolls out of the driveway.

It’s Steve’s car; there’s no doubt about it. She knows that car better than Steve likes to be reminded of.

What the hell is he doing at Eddie’s place at 2 in the morning?, Max wonders, worries that maybe something is wrong.

But moments later, the trailer door opens again and Eddie steps out, dressed in his pajama pants, lighting a cigarette like he always does. He seems calm, happy. Not at all like something bad has happened.

Until he notices her and his eyes widen in shock, mouth hanging open with the cigarette stuck to his bottom lip.

“Max! How- how long have you been out here?”

She doesn’t exactly know why she doesn’t tell the truth but something about the way Eddie looks at her tells Max, he might not want her to know about his nightly visitor.

“Just came out like, maybe a second before you did,” she lies, watching his shoulders drop as the tension in his body eases.

“Oh, uh, okay. Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna talk?”

“Nah, just needed some fresh air. You?”

“I- I’m good. Just, uh, just couldn’t sleep.”

They sit there for a while, both awkwardly looking anywhere but at each other, before Max can’t take it anymore, says her goodnight and goes back inside.

There is probably a good explanation for it all. Maybe Steve couldn’t sleep, too. Maybe he went to Eddie for some weed? (Don’t act so surprised. She might just be a teen but she’s not stupid, okay?)

Whatever it is, Max will never know because going by the way Eddie reacted when he saw her, she’s sure he doesn’t want to be questioned about it.

It’s fine. It’s none of her business anyway.

And Max forgets about it entirely until something strange happens again a few weeks later...

keep reading

#steddieweek2024 #steddie #steddie fic #max mayfield #eddie munson #steve harrington

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hitlikehammers · 3 months

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Steddie Post S4: If All That's Left of Steve in the Final Battle is Ashes—

...are they REALLY JUST ashes? 🔥

The final battle—like the last part of the very final battle—ends with shattering, and with dust.

It starts, the first bad dream and the first bloody nose and the first Code Red on the radios: well, that’s three months into something, for the first time in Eddie’s sorry-ass-but-honestly-actually-since-almost-not-having-any-life-at-all-any-more-and-miraculously-making-it-through-a-night-then-a-week-then-a-month-then-rehab-then-chronic-pain-then-more-friends-than-he’d-ever-had-before-and-frankly-in-the-beginning-more-than-he-could-count-plus-three-new-mother-figures-and-two-maybe-three-extra-maybe-father-figures-plus-one-friend-of-Dorothy-who’s-the-platonic-soulmate-of-maybe-the-love-of-Eddie’s-not-actually-still-sorry-ass-life: he’s about three months into something wild and reeling in his chest, brushing hands and lingering looks and flushed cheeks and little secret smiles ducked in toward shoulders or behind stray curls, or falling asleep pressed arm-to-arm only to wake up in one lap or another, and the whole of it’s shameless and intentional and giddy somewhere low in Eddie’s belly because it’s not uncertain, it’s honestly just fucking bashful, it’s shy and it’s the both of them wordlessly leaning into it, careful but sure, and almost all the more buoyant for it.

It’s three months in, and when they step up to that last battle—that final turn, do-or-die—maybe Steve pulls him behind a truck Eddie doesn’t even know the owner of, where it came from or why it’s there; but maybe Steve pulls him behind and draws him close without a word and kisses him relentless, drags his teeth and draws a little blood for the force and leaves them both raw, and panting, and desperate: it couldn’t really go any other way, like this—here.

Now.

“Live through this,” Steve had breathed against his angry red lips, hard enough that it stung; “so we can pick up where we left off.”

“I will if you will,” Eddie had shot back, defiant; still begging.

And Steve had kissed him again, and Eddie’d watched as Steve walked away with the lightest smear of Eddie’s blood on his lower lip as he’d spoken:

“I’ll hold you to it.”

And they’d parted, to do their fucking jobs, to play their fucking roles. They’re come back together, ready to take the final boss down as a unit, and Eddie remembers that he’d felt hopeful, he’d felt so fucking relieved because this was it. They were gonna nail it, all for one, and—

So it might be near the end, actually—they may have almost done it, finished the job and killed every last bit of this hellscape, every beast big and small, crushed what’s left of the husk of Vecna orchestrating it all: it might happen near the end. Or maybe just shy of the beginning. Somewhere in the middle.

All Eddie knows is that it happens. There’s light, and people floating in the air and then more light, dragged back down by the same lightning-spark power, and it’s back and it’s forth and when it hits anyone, Supergirl pulls them back to the ground and fights back harder, her face blood red dripping to her neck, her teeth bared all wrath and fury, and then—

Then there’s something that shoots different, hits Steve and he doesn’t float. It looks different, so it probably is different, and he doesn’t float when it hits him.

And so: Eddie holds to the bargain.

But Steve.

Steve…Steve Harrington, with the bitchiest glare and the brightest smile and the goofiest laugh and the biggest fucking heart, the bravest of all of them and the best part of Eddie’s whole soul—

Steve gets hit, and disappears from the world in nothing but a cloud of dust.

No one tries to shush Eddie, when he screams, when he wails and sobs; drops to his knees and fucking howls.

No one tries to stop him when he crawls to the space that held his whole heart, and now lies empty, save a dusting of something almost shiny, coarse to the touch but fine to the naked eye, hard to distinguish from the dirt on sight alone—is that him? Is that his Sweetheart, all that’s left of him—

Eddie thinks maybe they try to stop him halfway through the way he starts frantically sweeping, scooping up the ash and filling every pocket he has with as much as he can. He vaguely feels a hand on his shoulder, maybe the sound of his name, but it’s all white noise because Eddie’s picking up the pieces of his heart, here, Eddie’s trying like hell to hold on to something of the man he loves and anyone who doesn’t like it, or thinks he’s crazy, or wants to rush him, ask him to leave any little pouch in any layer of his clothes unfilled, less than overflowing with all that remains?

Fuck them. Fuck them all. Because Eddie kept his side of the deal.

Live through this.

I will if you will.

And now he has to live with the way his Stevie…didn’t.

——

The rest of the Party sticks together after it’s done. Dustin is inconsolable, Erica and Max scowl in each other’s direction but not really…at each other. Mike’s having a weird…frenzy response, denying Steve’s dead at all and demanding Lucas help him get El to look for him, he has to be somewhere, he has be saveable like Max, like Eddie. Robin’s fucking catatonic—the real adults take most of the burden, trying to figure out who to call, because Steve’s their only casualty, the beating heart at the center of all this and it’s gone, no wonder they’re breaking—

The Party stays together. Eddie falls back on what he knows.

He runs.

Specifically: he runs home, carefully though, he can’t jostle his pockets, and he knows exactly where he’s looking when he gets to his room, crawls to the farthest corner of his closet in this still-weird-to-be-so-big bedroom after the trailer: and he finds it.

His mom’s old little hope chest.

There are a million little fake velvet pouches inside, a couple pieces of actual jewelry kept in an empty film canister, and then a smaller jewelry box type thing meant for a dresser or something: Eddie doesn’t think he can fill the hope chest.

But the rest…

He starts with the jewelry box, since it’s already empty, carefully cups his palms to fill it with the precious dust until the lid doesn’t close.

Then he sorts the pouches, puts aside the ones that don’t pull tight enough shut for his liking. The rest…those will be temporary. He’ll find a better home for the ashes soon, but for now they’re safe, and all that’s left is…

The film canister is special.

It’s stupid and plastic and like every other fucking black-and grey tube thingy that smells like vinegar on the inside of you hold it up too close. But this one—

He’s always gotten a little teary-eyed to think that this was the one his mother kept.

Because he’d poked a hole through the rough little peak in the top of the lid with a fork, took a piece of thread from the junk drawer and made himself a necklace to match the one she had and she’d smiled at him so bright, poked another hole next to his, and threaded his string-chain through the back of the lid so it’d close up tight, to keep all your most secret prized possessions, my sugarbean and he had. For years.

Now it held what was left of her jewels, mostly cheap stuff with sentimental worth he couldn’t calculate—but now he has to take the faulty pouches and give the jewelry a new home.

Now he’s never had something more prized and precious to keep.

He finds fishing line in Wayne’s stuff, stronger than the thread worn and aged over a decade and a half, swaps it out with the string. Covers the inside with electrical tape to make sure nothing can sneak out of the holes, even so.

And then he fills it. Last of the ashes, and it all only just fits but the lid pops on perfect.

Then he pulls it over his head, and lies down on his bed.

And fucking sobs when the canister falls to settle right over his heart.

——

Some of the kids try to coax him out, argue grief is better shared or whatever, but Eddie’s deaf to the knocking, the way they try to yell at his window—not even cracked open, he won’t risk a rogue bird or a stray breeze disturbing all he has left of his, his—

The kids go away, eventually.

Wayne finds out through the grapevine what’s happened—he comes into Eddie’s room and holds him even if Eddie doesn’t want it, doesn’t ask. He’s grateful, though, even if he doesn’t say it, and Wayne sheds more than one tear; he’d been warming quick to Steve, called him son.

That wasn’t something Wayne did lightly. Not that anything Wayne did was done lightly.

However many days pass, Eddie doesn’t keep track. He wakes and runs to the little box on his dresser, just to make sure it’s safe, clutching the film tube around his neck while he does, weighing it desperately until he can be sure the bulk of the ashes are undisturbed. The rest of his time is spent lying in his bed and rolling the little canister across his fingers, taking off all his rings so he can just…touch it. Be close to whatever lifeless pieces of Steve—and likewise, then: pieces of Eddie—remain anywhere at all. He passes the hours like that, largely. Sometimes he thinks he’s hungry, like his stomach aches in that pang kind of way, but thinking of eating in a world where Steve doesn’t breathe makes him sick every time, so he doesn’t follow through. Wayne pesters him to at least drink something, so he sometimes shuffles to the bathroom, or the kitchen, drinks from the sink because glasses are for people who make plans for the future, who intend to drink things over the course of a lifetime, a life maybe with a purpose, a purpose that—

Eddie throws himself back into bed again, every time. Presses his film-canister-talisman tight to his sternum until the hurt of the pressure blurs with bigger hurts, and ultimately blurs into black.

Until one day, he opens his eyes. And after he’s done with the subtle disappointment that he had to, that morning came at all; when he gets up and checks the box?

The lid’s flipped off.

And there’s a tiny pile of dusty ash, glittering next to it, when there’s no light in the room to even catch it.

Eddie’s heart drops, then seizes in his chest.

What the fuck. What the fuck.

No one comes in but Wayne, and he just pokes his head in. Nothing can get in, either, unless…but they closed all the gates, there is no Upside Down anymore—

Eddie’s hands are shaking as he tries to brush the little pile into his hands, pulse tripping when the thinks of what it is, inside his hands, and he carefully lets it sift back into the jewelry box, tries to judge if any’s been lost, closes the top when he starts breathing too heavy, when his anxiety threatens to make the situation worse as he tries to bend down and see the furniture at surface level, find any precious speck of—

Not a speck. Not a…mote.

The escaped ashes were on top of something, though. Something Eddie’s never seen before. About the size of a notecard but, kinda like…ancient, weathered; that yellowed look you can never fake just right, traced alone with…some kind of calligraphy out of fucking Camelot or some shit, metallic gold in script:

I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed.

The…fuck?

Eddie tries to squint, because the text is weirdly positioned; it does look like something’s worn off, and some of what’s actually there is brighter, bolder than the rest, and then there’s a whole other style, almost backward, like a mirror-image of handwriting, and Eddie lifts the card up to the mirror instinctively, only to see…

There’s writing on the other side.

Eddie’s breath catches when he recognizes the handwriting. Small, and more words than should be able to fit but…it fits. It’s dried blood in color, and Eddie’s not convinced it’s just a color for how it’s a little raised and flaky, but it doesn’t come off when Eddie touches it, traces it because the cramped little letters, tall and short all mixed and mismatched, so familiar, so tight in Eddie’s chest—

It’s…Eddie…

Eddie’s eyes skim the first few lines in Steve’s handwriting, and he cannot fucking breathe—

Hey, wow, that’s some crazy shit there on the other side of this piece of paper, my gran says it’s a warning even if I don’t personally get it, but I’m pretty sure it’s enchanted? The paper, I mean. The warning’s probably about being too close to…this, without being prepared. But that’s, whatever. Point is, I don’t think I can make new enchanted paper, so here’s the deal: First, thanks for grabbing the ashes? I didn’t actually expect anyone to do that. I hope it was intentional, like that you weren’t sweeping or the ash got stuck in your shoes or something, because intentional will make the rest of this way easier (hopefully, or like, maybe), and if you’re a part of the bigger Hawkins fuckery it’ll be way easier to believe at the least so, fingers crossed I guess but: I’m kind of a phoenix? Firebird? Thing? It’s a bloodline “curse” but especially since the, umm, incidents with the Lab I’ve been thinking maybe it’s actually kinda cool? Like insurance. But the extra fucked up thing is that someone has to grab the ashes without being, like, told to. Free will or some bullshit. And apparently we’re not a very spontaneously likable bunch of dungeons-and-dipshit-type creatures, because not many of us even get to re-birth ourselves. Because of the ash…thing. But you! You did that! And now I can do the rebirth thing! Which I hope is okay. There are a lot of, like, bond-type things that go along with the person who ‘cares selflessly to gather ash unbidden’—I think that’s what makes someone more than a ‘mere human’ consumed by the Fire and they won’t get burned, they’ll be…well, if they wanted. Bond-stuff. Not important. I’m not gonna hold you to any of that shit, like, nothing you don’t want to happen will happen because of this, I 100% promise. Except maybe I’ll do some over the top gestures of gratitude—and on the off chance you already know me, at all? Over-the-top is kinda how I do most feelings, so. Should not be a surprise. Only thing I will ask, and if it’s too much no worries, the whole resurrection shebang was a gamble from the get-go but, if you can just keep this pile of ashes safe for a little bit? It takes longer to heal based on how old you are when you, y’know. Kick it. So…yeah. I never learned how to come back as a baby because that sounded weird. Quicker, but weird. I only learned the slower way so I can just…come back how I left, like no time passed. But if you can keep the ashes safe until then that’d be totally cool. Anyway, thanks, whoever you are. Kinda owe you my life, here. I’ll show you the appreciation you deserve when I’m, you know. Not-ashes. Once I have opposable thumbs again and stuff. But really. Thank you. See you soon, hopefully (if that’s cool, I mean, I can get out of your hair ASAP too if you’d rather, just say so soon as I pop up)— ~SH

Eddie…falls to the floor at some point, nearly ripping the note, no: no, actually, he should have decimated it, macerated it the with the way his hands clench and his tears have fallen and made not a single mark: enchanted paper.

Ashes that…maybe are Steve?

That maybe mean Steve could come…will come back?

Eddie really can’t breathe, now, and when the black swallows everything, he’s still on the fucking floor.

——

When next he comes-to, Eddie splashes water on his face after he checks on the jewelry box, reads the letter again, clutches the ash-filled pendant in his hand as he drinks, considers eating—no.

No, not yet. His stomach’s still unsteady. His chest is swollen, pressed with something like hope for the impossible because what the fuck, first and foremost, but then, then…

There was a horrorscape under his feet for years before it came for him personally, before he almost died at its hands once, and then again by proxy when, when it took his…

His maybe-love-of-his-life-and-also-possibly-something-like-a-phoenix-who-might-be-coming-back-to-Eddie-which-would-mean-Eddie-could-keep-breathing-and-his-heart-would-be-returned-to-his-chest-by-the-hands-of-the-man-he-loves-because-he-thinks-it-died-with-Steve-but-if-Steve-isn’t-dead—

He basically almost died again when…maybe his Steve—who Eddie fully acknowledges at this point he’s absolutely fucking gone on with his whole heart and soul, because there’s no other real explanation for his total and complete shutdown as a human for the sake of Steve’s loss—when his Stevie died, but maybe didn’t.

But then now, now maybe…

Maybe the impossible could be something that saved them, saved him, instead of something that only sought to ruin.

Eddie doesn’t think he can believe he’s that lucky.

But it’s easier to entertain the possibility, than to continue just…knowing Steve died before Eddie could acknowledge with his everything that he—certified cynic and self-deceiving dumbass Edward Elliot Munson—was ass-over-ankles in love; and more than that: before he could tell Steve as much, because of anyone Eddie’s ever met, Steve Harrington deserves to know how impossible it is not to; how ineffably much he is loved.

“Hey,” Eddie ultimately finds himself curled up back in his bed again, clutching his film canister to his chest, tight enough to leave an impression on his skin.

He wants it to. Right over the way his heart slams against his ribs. He wants a bruise. He wants a scar. He wants inviolable proof.

“Umm, so I don’t know if this is real,” Eddie’s eyes flicker to the jewelry box of ashes, the strange potentially-enchanted note on his dresser; “or if it is, how this works?”

This apparently being talking to the cobbled together film-pendant around his neck, he…he’s so fucked, isn’t he, this is insane—

But it’s not like that’s ever stopped him before.

And before never had love in the mix. So.

“If you can hear me,” Eddie runs his thumb around the circumference of the cap, over and over; “I pretty fucking sure I’m in love with you,” and it’s maybe fucked up, how it feels as nervewracking to say it to a plastic canister of ashes as he imagines it’d feel looking into those stupidly-wide amber eyes, but yep: said plastic ash-pendant’d be fucking bouncing with his heartbeat if he wasn’t holding it so tight to the furious drumming of his pulse.

“I know it’s fast? But,” and Eddie swallows, shakes his head for reasons that are maybe about dispelling the idea that anything’s too fast or too much in the life they’ve led, one where more might be possible, where a future might still exist beyond all possibilities, all hope except for the fragile frail thing in Eddie’s chest written in blood red, in Steve’s hand on Eddie’s fucking bones:

“I don’t think losing someone hurts like this if your heart’s not in it all the way,” and that’s, that is…

That’s the crux of it, isn’t it. His heart is the heart of it.

“Sorry, about that, if you,” Eddie swallows, sour around the idea that maybe, even if the impossible’s possible, this part, where he feels like this, is just…maybe not too far but in the wrong direction.

But he wants to believe. He wants to think Steve saw something pointing in this direction when he told him to survive, so they could have, so they could finish, so they—them, together—could…

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s voice is hoarse enough to hurt, now, so he lifts his little film canister to his lips and presses them hard, sure: it’s weirdly warm against his mouth, held too close to his chest for too long.

Not long enough. Not close enough.

“Be careful about taking care of yourself, about, coming back and,” Eddie grips his pendant of ashes back tight to the center of his sternum;

“I’ll watch over it, watch over you,” he promises; “long as you need.”

And he breathes, holding the canister close before he brings it back to his mouth again and whispers to it like it matters, or…just in case it matters:

“Come back to me,” his words come out in a shudder, all trembling; “I’m just a mere human, maybe less than,” and that’s true, that is so fucking true but:

“But you already consume me,” Eddie speaks it honest, and kisses the rim of the cap— if there’s any chance of getting in, it’s there:

“So burn me up, as much as you need to,” and Eddie means it, he fucking means it with everything he is; “just,” and his voice cracks, and he shoves the canister back tight to his shaking heart when the first tear falls on it, covers it with both hands and cups it safe and damn-near painful as he whispers to whatever might listen:

“If any of this is real,” he barely fucking breathes: “please come back.”

He loses the battle for consciousness to his tears, but awake or asleep: he doesn’t once let go of the pendant pressed to his heart.

——

Eddie’s warm. Like, fell asleep in the sunlight, swaddled in a blanket, embraced and held and wrapped up in pure comfort warm.

“You’re more than a mere human,” a voice exhales right behind his ear: also warm, also comfort, also fucking impossible and he turns, frantic and even more so when he feels the lack of his film canister against his chest, and he tries to scramble for it but he’s…he’s held the whole time in strong arms that he knows, same as he knew that voice, same as it’s clear that he’s warm because he’s wrapped up in a body, tangled from the legs up with, with—

“How,” Eddie barely speaks, more mouths as that chest lifts, those lungs fill, that mouth curls warm and sweet and his Steve is watching him, those eyes so alive and then those strong hands are reaching for him, cupping Eddie’s cheeks and marveling like Eddie’s the wonder, here, like Steve isn’t lying in his arms like a full-on fucking miracle.

“You offered burning, and pledged your heart unasked,” Steve says it in this…this way that is exactly that simple, and exponentially more profound.

“That is some lore shit,” Eddie breathes out almost on instinct because…that’s some lore shit.

And Steve—Steve, his Stevie, wrapped around him and moving and breathing and being and definitely one-hundred-percent naked but that is totally irrelevant right this moment because Steve—

Steve laughs at him, soft and fond and god, god but Eddie thought he’d lost it. He was so sure, and his heart was so broken but now Steve’s heart is strong against his skin and Eddie can, he can…

Eddie can fucking breathe.

“I don’t think anyone expects our kind to be…cared about, like that,” Steve shrugs a little, and Eddie wants to protest because Steve Harrington isn’t only cared about, he is adored, and fuck anyone who says different, who so much as thinks otherwise—he wants to push the point, but Steve’s eyes are so intent, so saturated with feeling.

And fuck, but Eddie missed those eyes.

“Speeds the whole re-personing thing up, apparently,” Steve’s smile is a little wider before he shakes his head with a cute little toss of that hair.

“Old magic things,” he dismisses; “for later,” and then he draws Eddie back down close to his chest and snuggles him in so, so close.

“Tired,” Steve sighs a little into Eddie’s mess of curls; “and you need taking care of.”

And it’s…out of everything, the protective certainty in those last words are maybe the most unshakable proof that settles in Eddie’s chest and reminds the still-reluctant, still-too-scared parts of Eddie’s heart to commit and start back to beating because: only Steve Harrington is protective…quite like this.

“You’re really here?” Eddie whispers, wondering and hesitant all at the same time.

“Thanks to you,” Steve kisses Eddie soft, sure: taste strangely of smoke and cinnamon but underneath—all Steve.

His Steve.

He folds into Steve’s chest and just, fucking, clings.

“So fast,” Eddie mouths against Steve’s skin, because the heartbeat under his lips is almost indecipherable, one beat to the next. “And you’re so warm, are you,” Eddie props his chin up and looks up at Steve, anxious and flooding with worry before he sees Steve’s smile, still sweet and steady.

“Bird,” Steve drums his fingers against Eddie’s forearm, lightning quick; “fire bird, so,” and the heat makes sense then, too, as Steve wraps him up again tighter and sighs, satisfied as he envelopes Eddie’s frame.

“Also extra energy, I think,” Eddie listens to Steve’s words around his heartbeat through his chest; “like, I couldn’t make it past your kitchen but, I don’t know how I know it, but I know I can give some of it to you while it’s settling.”

Magic. Steve. Can share his phoenix magic. To take care of Eddie. Immediately after coming back from the fucking grave.

On brand, Eddie guesses. Jesus fuck.

“I am pretty damn positive I’m in love you with you, too, by the way,” Steve shakes Eddie back to his body, to the moment, to the soft sure way he breathes those words and kisses Eddie’s temple like Eddie’s pulse doesn’t trip around the sentence, the sentiment.

“Also thank you, for,” Steve adds, and drops another kiss while Eddie reels, floats in the moment of hearing the words, of knowing for sure, of feeling it: “for loving me, somehow, enough to,” and Eddie can imagine where that’s headed, the way Steve says somehow like an unthinkable thing.

And there will be none of that, so he stops it and kisses hard, wet, open-mouthed at the center of Steve’s chest, over his bird-flutter heartbeat.

“It broke me,” Eddie breathes there, cracked open and still raw; “I already mostly figured but,” and his voice breaks, and Steve pulls him closer, so warm, and the bird-heart-flutter feels more like full broad wings, majestic, almost embracing and ensuring Eddie of all things is safe, and kept.

And warm.

Fuck if Eddie doesn’t fall into the feeling, full body; whole heart and soul.

“If there was any question whether I already loved you with everything, the way I fell apart,” and Eddie just moans a little because there aren’t…he doesn’t have words for it at all, he—

“Let me put you back together?” Steve murmurs low in a way that’s so soft and gentle but trembles the marrow inside Eddie’s bones.

Timeless. Endless.

Eddie kisses Steve’s chest again and hopes Steve knows that means yes, and please, and forever.

Unequivocally.

“Could we maybe talk about that, um, bond stuff, that the letter…” Eddie eventually speaks muffled into the hair on Steve’s pecs, after soaking in the heat and pulse and realness of him.

“I meant it,” Steve murmurs straight into Eddie’s skin; “I’m not holding you to—”

“I want you to.”

Eddie did not for a second think or feel otherwise, from the moment he saw the words, before he even started to believe at all: his mind was filled with possibilities by those words. His chest was…

“You…” Steve nudges Eddie’s head up from his chest and studies his face, reads something in his eyes before his breath catches, this time; before his bird-pulse skips, something light and giddy against Eddie’s weight and Steve huffs, disbelieving but…maybe happy for it.

Maybe…maybe overjoyed, even.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, and leans to kiss Eddie full on the lips again, consuming: familiar for it.

“Yeah we can talk about that. But later.”

And then he settles Eddie back against him and wraps him in his bare skin, the still-radiant warmth.

“Now you sleep, and when you wake up, I feed you, you shower, you put on new clothes,” Eddie wrinkles his nose, doesn’t even know how many days it’s been since he cared for those things; abandons any shame for it when Steve feels him recoil and presses him closer, chuckles once and nuzzles his hair;

“Then I feed you again, and then,” Steve kisses his head once, and then twice, and then three times and Eddie feels it tingle through his goddamn veins like a vow, filled up with promise when Steve whispers, so alive:

“Then, we can talk.”

For @klausinamarink, who requested '"I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed.”' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST and also for @steddie-week for the Day Seven prompt 'Free Space'

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @lawrencebshoggoth @mensch-anthropos-human @micheledawn1975 @lumoschildextra @dotdot-wierdlife @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @grtwdsmwhr @eddie-munson-addict

divider credits here

ao3 link here ✨

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #post s4 #established steddie #angst with a happy ending #emotional hurt/comfort #true love #presumed dead #except SOMEONE was secretly a mythical creature the whole time #mythical creature steve harrington #phoenix steve harrington #eddie munson is a mess #(because he is in MOURNING)#(given he ALSO DOES NOT KNOW YET THAT HE WAS DATING A MYTHICAL CREATURE)#protective eddie munson #(he gathers Steve’s ashes a little obsessively in all honesty)#little does he know: THAT was the best possible thing to do!#inherited firebird powers #resurrection #(or something like that don’t think too hard on it—steve sure as hell doesn’t)#happy ending #established relationship #stranger things #gift fic #klausinamarink #hitlikehammers' hobbit-birthday prompt fest #hitlikehammers v words #hitlikehammers writes #steddieweek2024

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fastcardotmp3 · 2 years

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a steddie "they reconnect after years apart" journey except they never got all that close post-Vecna to begin with. Like they spend a week in hell together, develop the sort of respect you have for someone when you have to work together to save the world, but it doesn't ever get much bigger than that.

They're just two guys who stumbled into each other's lives on circumstance alone and then spend the next decade seeing each other precisely once a year at the single shared holiday they both spend with the party.

New Years.

Eddie always spends Thanksgiving with Wayne and Steve is with Robin every 4th of July (running off and doing their own thing in a tradition everyone knows not to ask about) so the only time both of them end up at the Hopper-Byers residence every year is in that final countdown towards something new.

and they're not enemies and they're not-not friends either, but it's like that friend of your cousin who shows up to the party and you'll chat and make polite conversation and roll your eyes when they say something a bit out of bounds for two people who don't know each other all that well except.

Well, except, when you do that every year it becomes routine. When you do it every year it becomes, I know I'm not gonna have to continue this conversation in the morning so fuck it I'll be honest with you. When you do it every year, on the tipsiest night of the year, surrounded by people you trust in an environment that feels intrinsically safe it becomes--

"Did you quit your shitty job yet or are you still being a pussy about it?"

and it becomes--

"you're not still dating that same jerk as last year, right?"

and it becomes--

"wait, you hate playing Christmas music, why would you let someone talk you into that? Next time call me and I'll knock some sense into your dense skull"

and it becomes--

"I mean obviously a friends with benefits thing wouldn't work out, Steve, you're a serial monogamist"

and it becomes--

"Hey, it's good to see you again, man"

and it becomes--

"I missed your stupid hair."

and it becomes--

"I missed your drunk fucking rants."

and it becomes--

"I missed you."

Years pass, turning one into the next and it becomes I missed you I missed you I miss you.

Because they've been doing this long enough that they know each other, one night a year holding up the kitchen-counter-turned-bar and having their own little isolated conversation in the yellow glow of the only well-lit room in the house, and somewhere along the line they started knowing each other. Seeing each other. Understanding.

At some point it starts to ache, leaving that behind in the early hours of the morning and starting a new year all over again, counting down towards that final countdown when it all feels like it clicks into place. And later, at another point, they start to notice the ache.

They start to notice that they really are leaving something behind in the magic of that moment and it becomes a question of can this survive in the light of day?

It's 1995, about to tip over into 1996 when Eddie looks at Steve and doesn't see the guy pressed up against the wall of a boat shed, or the guy diving headfirst into a frigid lake so the rest of them wouldn't have to, or the guy walking away towards battle with something like uncertainty and something like hope both scrambling for purchase in his eyes.

It's 1995, about to be 1996 when Eddie looks at this guy from his past and realizes that just because he never knew him then doesn't mean he doesn't now, doesn't mean he's not allowed to get to know him now.

Eddie's not the guy who held that bottle to his throat anymore after all, not the guy who dove into that lake after him, who broke a promise and tried to be a hero. Ten years does a lot to a person and so when the Eddie of today looks at the Steve of today and says--

"I'm gonna kiss you at midnight this time, for the record."

--it doesn't feel like the ground is quaking, like anything has to shift to make space for the change that is Steve's slow smile around the lip of his glass in response.

They've been making space for ten years. They've been moving closer to each other a centimeter at a time in this well-lit kitchen, up against the counter-turned-bar.

"Well, if we're going on the record," Steve shrugs as a noise maker cuts through the warmth of their family's chattering throughout the house, "I know that already."

"Yeah?" Eddie's eyebrows shoot up, delight filling up his chest like the mystical hope of starting over. "How?"

"You get this look in your eye," Steve shrugs, "every time you plan on escalating."

Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek to keep from beaming too broadly, sets his glass on the sideboard and gives Steve a curious once-over.

"Yeah, that's the one," Steve laughs, this bright and full sound that it took probably three of those first New Years Eves for Eddie to earn, and it spurs him on.

It has always been becoming, the space between them, and it has always been becoming this, Eddie holding Steve's cheek assuredly with one confident hand and pressing their lips together in a simple, all-consuming, closed-mouth shout of a kiss.

"You didn't wait until midnight," Steve breathes when they pull away, and fuck Eddie has missed him, has found so much to miss in knowing him.

"Don't worry Cinderella," Eddie lets their foreheads touch, lets all that space officially close shut, "I ain't going anywhere when the clock chimes."

#dot fic #dot post #is this anything I just think that new years and slow burns ya know #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic

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hammity-hammer · 1 year

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steve harrington realizing that he’s got no purpose if he’s not protecting the people he loves from outer-dimensional beings, and has a minor (read: major) spiral about it post-vecna & the party fixing everything. he’s just a regular ole 20 something with no purpose— his friends are all in school, except eddie, who managed to pick up an apprenticeship as an electrician; putting all of that wire knowledge to use (just not in cars, he hasn’t hotwired one since 1986 and he’d like to keep it that way si vous plais) and making the rich houses have even cooler guts than they deserve.

the kids end up graduating (their first tries) and heading as one little pack to the same school (don’t ask me which, i’m a college drop out) and steve, eddie, and rob end up staying just outside of indy. rob finished school early, because of course she did, and she found that she may have a knack for hanging around high schoolers, so why not teach them how to become polyglots like she is?

steve still doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing— he bartends at a little club in the gayborhood, because they went there so often that the bartenders just kind of pushed him into it, and don’t get him wrong— mixing drinks and flirting all night is super fun, but it also… is kind of depressing? even if he gets to be around people like him and see them happy— he knows that a lot of alcohol and drugs causes that happiness and he wants so badly for his people to be out and proud and not murdered for it. but he can’t do that,, so he does the next best thing.

he talks with one of the regulars, andy, who owns a little tattoo shop on the corner, and andy invites him to come check it out. so he does the next day he’s free, and holy fucking christ. tattoos aren’t his thing— at least not on himself, but on other people they’re gorgeous. and they’re painful, but you’re turning the pain into art and you get to live with it in your skin and look at it and think about the fact that you’re here and you made it and you fucking survived. and people purposefully put scars into their bodies? and not in the i-battled-literal-other-dimensional-beings-and-won kind of way, or the i-battled-my-personal-demons-and-won kind of way, which both are things he’s dealt with so fucking intimately— but in the i-will-decorate-this-flesh-prison-and-make-it-a-castle kind of way, and that’s fucking beautiful. queer people taking their bodies and making them into art with ink and hot metal and needles and the love that they have for each other and the passion and the fucking spite at the world that keeps them going and making their presences KNOWN.

and maybe he gets some piercings while he’s there— it’s fascinating and feels so weird and freeing when the needle punctures his flesh and the jewelry goes in— and now he’s got a shiny little ring hanging through his earlobe; his nostril; his lip.

he learns that piercings take time and effort and care and that he has to treat himself with love to be able to heal— and that he is deserving of that love and care and dedication, especially from himself.

he keeps going back, maybe not always to get stabbed, but to watch others have it done. to see how different people’s anatomy takes different piercings, how he can’t have a piercing through his cheeks because he bites them too much when he’s anxious, but the girl that just left got both of hers done and they looked good. they fit her face, like little shiny dimples.

eventually, the piercer, killie, asks steve when he’s going to help them with their needles and their piercings— and he doesn’t know how to react because he hadn’t even thought about it and yet… maybe he could help other people fall in love with themselves and their bodies and help turn them into art one day

maybe he could be a pretty boy with his scars and his metal and his missing chunks and his polos and his jeans and his sneakers.

#steve harrington #i just love him your honor #steve as a piercer would be so cute #piercer!steve #im obsessed with this and sent ro a 5 minute long voice memo today talking about him #because he is near and dear to myheart #as someone that got into piercing to help other people feel beautiful #i think that he would love this #and i absolutely think that he wouldnt know what the fuck to do post vecna #and get jealous that everyone else has a thing #and he doesnt have one #because all of his things were always things he shared #and this is one thing that he shares— but not with his friends #just with the people that own the lives that he’s changing #one stabbing at a time #also queer people in the 80s are the reason we even have the modern day piercing industry and i owe them my life #and the piercer’s name is inspired by the person that pierced my lobes when i was five #and my mom indeed has dimple piercings #so those are my little art inspired by life or whatever moments

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novacorpsrecruit · 4 months

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THEME: Steddie Fics that fucked me up (so you should read them too)

There Are No Incurable Ills by indigofudge (ao3)

T | wc 28,486 | cw depictions of wounds/blood, illnesses, infections, sepsis

Summary: /Eddie blinks rapidly. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes. His chest heaves in panting breaths. “Dustin,” he says, jagged as it leaves his mouth.

“Dustin’s safe.” Steve’s thumb swipes at his cheek, brushing away the tears as they start to fall. “You did what I explicitly told you not to do, but he’s safe.”

Eddie just stares, shiny eyes searching Steve’s face with pupils blown wide. Then he breaks out into a soft grin. It’s tender, almost shy.

Fuzzy static pinches at Steve’s chest. He swallows distractedly, unable to pull his gaze away from Eddie’s. “Just let me- let me finish patching you up, okay?” /

Steve secretly harbors Eddie in his house while Eddie recovers. Unfortunately, battling blood poisoning and sepsis without antibiotics is not as easy as it seems - which is, granted, not that easy. And Steve, in the proper Harrington spirit, has decided to shoulder this burden all by himself.

Honestly I think this is one of the first Steddie fics I ever read and I still think about it.

Post season 4, Dustin begs Steve to go and get Eddie’s body. Steve wants to say no, not wanting to go back to the Upside Down, but if it makes Dustin feel better, he’ll do it. By Lady Luck herself, Steve finds Eddie — alive but barely breathing. He knows he can’t take him to the hospital, so he takes him to his house where he attempts to nurse Eddie back to health. Steve does his best to take care of Eddie while lying low from the law, Eddie’s still a wanted man.

But is the antibiotics he’s giving eddie good enough to heal Eddie back to health?

Hands Where I Can See Them by Solarmorrigan (ao3) @solarmorrigan (tumblr)

T | wc 29,177 | no cw

Summary: Eddie thinks that he and Steve have a good thing going; being friends with benefits is honestly a pretty sweet deal. Steve is a great friend, the sex is great, everything is great. Except for the fact that Steve hadn't realized they were only friends with benefits

Except for the fact that Steve thought they were in a relationship

Except for the fact that Eddie doesn't realize how much he'd valued that relationship until it's gone (and he's trying his damnedest to get it back)

When I say crying, screaming, throwing up, I mean it. This fic hurts so fucking good 😭 Miscommunication to the fucking T. When this was being posted on tumblr in parts I almost couldn’t read it because of how much my heart ached. Eddie Munson is a fucking dumbass and he better be kissing the ground Steve walks on.

Of Space and Time by Appledagger (Ao3) @appledaggerst (tumblr)

M | wc 56,372 | cw MCD, drinking to cope

Summary: In 2073, the world is still moving forward despite arid climates and the quick relay race between man and machine. Within the walls of the hospital center at Vecna Labs, Steve Harrington has just woken up after an accident inside the depths of the classified sections of the lab. Stricken with amnesia, he is brought to Edward Munson’s home to recover and to be observed during his recovery after experimental treatments had brought him back from the brink of death.

In Edward’s home, Steve finds question after question. Why does Eddie seem to hate him so much? What do all the observations have to do with his accident? What exactly is going on with his malfunctioning mind, and what does this all have to do with Creel and Vecna’s tech monopoly? All the while, Steve struggles with the feeling that there was something more to his relationship with Eddie that he can’t quite understand.

What the fuck.

Okay for real, I fucking love this. I don’t read much sci-fi but this is so fucking good, Philip k dick is in shambles. It’s hard not to hate Eddie in the first half of the fic, but slowly you understand why he’s so cold to Steve.

This also got Sleeping Sickness by City and Colour on my Spotify and I fucking cry every time it comes on shuffle. Thanks for that 😭🖤

Tuesday’s Gone With the Wind by thisapplepielife (ao3) @thisapplepielife (tumblr)

E | wc 184,150 | cw drug abuse, airplane crash

Summary: Corroded Coffin's leased plane went down on June 13th, 1995 in the woods of Louisiana.

Ten people on board died.

Eddie Munson survived.

Before he survived, he really lived.

First off: I’m going to be 85 in a nursing home talking about this like it actually happened. My grandchildren will know about this fic and believe that corroded coffin was a real band.

This AU goes back and forth between the present (a documentary) and the past (1989-1990s). It follows Corroded Coffin as they’re doing small Midwest tours and looking for a road manager. Steve Harrington happens to fall into Eddie’s lap, and after much persuasion, Steve joins the crew. As the story goes on, the band grows in popularity and their little crew grows larger and larger.

Please read the author’s note before starting! This fic is dear to me but it aches so much. This is a love story, but it’s so fucking real with real struggles and it’s painful but so is life. I don’t know how many times I’ve cried reading this fic.

The Perfect Loving Nightmare by purpleweekend (ao3)

E | wc 95,344 | cw memory loss, internalized homophobia | spice 🥵🥵🥵

Summary: He laid back first onto their couch, deciding he just needed to sleep it off. He had plenty of time before Eddie would be home. He could take a shower and hide the evidence of his own stupidity when he woke up.

He let his eyes slip closed, head throbbing all the while.

Everything would be fine.

Okay technically this is part 2 of an amnesia series, but somehow I found this one first and read it and cried. I read Living the Unknown Dream afterwards. I don’t think you have to read these in order, I kind of liked reading this one first then going to the second one and going “Oh! That’s what happened!”

By the title of the series, you guessed it, it’s an amnesia fic! Steve hits his head and lays down. When he wakes up, there’s someone in his house, checking on him. Trying to manhandle him off the couch and — oh, there’s blood. Steve wants nothing to do with this stranger, he wants his parents. The stranger, nearly in tears, convinces Steve to go to the hospital. At the hospital, Steve finds out that the stranger is Eddie Munson. His supposed husband.

And the head injury he got is one of many, and with the previous brain damage (that he doesn’t remember receiving), they’re unsure if he will ever get his memories back.

Smut is peppered in between the angst and it’s very good, and very hot. You’ll cry then read smut and cry and read smut and — you get it.

You’re Divine by Oonionchiver (ao3) @azrielgreen (tumblr)

E | wc 259,565 | cw suicidal ideation, read the tags | spice level: 🥵🥵🥵 again, read the tags!! Not gonna be everyone’s cup of tea

Summary: ‘Blood?’ Eddie says again.

Eyes black but for the slice of iridescent white in the centre. His teeth are sharp, his hands are weapons and Steve thinks maybe he’s made a mistake doing this without telling Eddie first. Eddie’s focus lowers, it moves to his left hand which is…

Oh fuck.

It’s dripping blood onto the floor.

‘Shit,’ Steve says, takes a single step back, swallows. ‘Eddie, I’m so sorry, fuck.’

Eddie can’t seem to look away, can’t bring his ethereal gaze back up where it belongs. Steve thinks he should run, he should flee. A tiny part of him knows Eddie will chase him. Eddie will catch him, outrun him easily.

It's more than a little fucked up how that thrills him.

Azriel’s bio on Twitter at one point read “wrote that fic that fucked you up,” and holy fuck they weren’t kidding. I think about this all the time.

After season 4, Eddie’s gone. Or, so they thought. Steve finds Eddie outside his house, covered in the grime of the Upside Down. He seems … off. Wrong. But Steve is more than happy to have him back and will do anything to keep him. Steve comes to terms with Eddie’s other, willing to do anything to keep Eddie here. To keep Eddie with him. Eddie … well, not so much.

There’s a lot of lovely scenes and scenes that I cherish fondly. Then there’s the quarry scene that makes me want to cry my heart out. The smut is not even exempted to the angst, please be warned.

Azriel has a companion fic going on right now with Eddie’s point of view. It won’t make sense unless you read You’re Divine first.

Please remember to leave kudos and comments on the fics you read/enjoyed! Support your writers 🖤

Prev fic rec: my favorite fucking idiots

#steddie #stranger things #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #Eddie Munson #novacorpsrecruit fic recs #feel free for suggestion of themes #or if you’re the author on tumblr and I missed your account please let me know!

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damon-loves-pie · 2 years

Text

Girls Talk Boys

"Girls Talk Boys."

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader.

Word count: About 3,200 words

Warnings: 18+, Some ‘smut’ not much though kissing, talking about sex, some touching, but nothing too vivid. Talks of sexual relations, hidden relationships, sex toys implied. Henderson reader, and of course Eddie and Max never got hurt.

ANOTHER WARNING: Max does imply asking about sex toys and how people are in bed just like most teenage girls I know, I know she’s young but going off how I was at 14/15 I was buying them already and experimenting with things like that. She DOES NOT DO anything sexual, she just teases Nancy and the reader and asks about their sex life. But if it’s going to bother you I ask you please to not read it, or hate on it since again I am writing based on how I have experienced life.

Summary: After defeating Vecna the party has made it mandatory to have dedicated hang out days. It is boys/girls night at Steve and El/the byers. Eddie and the older Henderson Sister have a secret relationship while people ask why they aren’t together.

Author’s note: Hello everyone! I am back with another story! I feel great to have been able to write not one, but two stories! Especially after not having had motivation to do anything in months. I had gotten inspiration for this actually weeks ago but just couldn’t find a way to put it in words. I was driving and girls talk boys by 5sos came on off my playlist and it got me thinking. And yes I did listen to the song 10 million times while writing this. It is 3 AM where I am, so I have not proofread and don’t want to wait to post because I was excited about this. I hope you all enjoy!

Writing Masterlist

------

Summer of '86 was unlike any summer before. It felt like there was more pressure to make it as normal as possible for all of us, especially after what we've been through the last couple of years. We all realized after the final battle against Vecna we were bonded for life and needed to make sure we took care of each other.

Which is why that March after the government somehow cleared Eddie's name, we started having dedicated nights for the party outside of our usual hangouts. The second Saturday had became movie/game night for everyone. While the 4th Saturday of the month was dedicated to boys/girls night.

It was something that was all agreed upon. We would switch out homes, parents fully understanding the need of it. (Well besides Mr. Wheeler of course, but Mrs. Wheeler is quick to put him in his place.) Though it seems the usual hosts tend to be Steve and El/Byers. Steve's parents still don't seem to care to be home and Joyce somehow convinces Hopper we're all grown enough to be alone and that if anything were to happen, it would somehow happen even with them there by reminding him of high school.

All the parents knew of everything though. After the upside down broke through to the real world, there wasn't anyway of hiding what we all had been dealing with the last couple of years. Steve's parents just wanted to make sure their house was okay, while the Sinclair's were pissed to find out both of their children had put themselves into dangerous situations.

Dustin and I's mom wasn't happy with us, after having lost our father she didn't want to experience the loss of someone else important to her. (We didn't have the heart to tell her what happened to Mews though, that will forever be a secret.) Max's mom couldn't believe she had moved her daughter to a place more dangerous than California, when she moved here in hopes of keeping her safe.

Mrs. Wheeler and Mr. Wheeler didn't have a lot to say, Mr. Wheeler still doesn't believe that we've spent the last couple years actually fighting these things. He claimed we all had great imaginations, while Mrs. Wheeler was in shock but made us promise to tell her and the other parents if anything were to ever happen again.

Wayne didn't care about the upside down, or the monsters. He was just happy his boy was safe, and had gotten cleared of all chargers. He claimed to have known the government was hiding more than the masses were being told of. Said if they had just been honest, maybe none of this would of ever happen.

I don't really know what happen with Argyle’s parents, to be honest I'm not even sure if they know, with him being 18 when the events happened. Robin's parents at first wanted to move her away, to shelter her from all of this. She was supposed to be focused on graduating and band, not getting involved in this mess. But she convinced them to stay since she was already 18 and an adult, plus since she only had a few months till graduation.

Which talking about graduation; Nancy, Robin, and Eddie managed to graduate. Nancy and Robin were a given but Eddie got through with a loophole. After the 'earthquake' ruined half the town, they wanted to push out all of the students to make room for those who needed shelter. So basically everyone got passed for the remainder of the year.

But the weirdest thing to have happened since Vecna is Eddie and I. After Eddie almost got killed in the Upside Down, I couldn't keep my feelings a secret anymore. Little did I know before speaking out to him about it that night in my house, he himself was preparing to tell me how he felt.

Both of us couldn't imagine having not told each other how we felt and didn't want to risk another moment. That night lead to where I am today, pinned under Edward Munson as he begs me to skip girl's night.

It was June 28th, 1986. The last Saturday of the month and instead of getting prepared for going to El's, I was listening to Eddie's excuses.

"Come on sweetheart, do we really have to go tonight?" He teases against my neck, lips loosely moving against my skin while he leaves small, sweet kisses. The air was thick and heavy as he held me beneath him, letting his rough hands hold my hips in place while his lips explored my body.

My body ached with desire at the thought of staying in the sheets with Eddie. With my hands running beneath his shirt, nails lightly scratching into his back as he bites my earlobe slightly, causing me to gasp softy.

"No," I moan lightly, his tongue swirling around my collarbone before he bites the sensitive skin. "B-But, I think it would make everyone question where both of us were." I stutter, feeling his hands roam up underneath my shirt onto my stomach, shivering from the touch.

"We can just say we forgot," He breathes, continuing to work on my body. His lips trailing kisses up my neck to my lips, connecting his with mine. My brain fogged as his tongue traced my bottom lip before entering my mouth. Moaning into the kiss, I roll my tongue against Eddie’s, his hands moving to feel under my breast, cupping them slightly.

Part of me wanted to say fuck the others and stay right here melting beneath his touch. But I can't, we can't. Pulling away, I set my forehead against his. Both of us breathing heavy as we look into each other's eyes.

"Eddie, till we tell everyone, we can't risk anyone asking anymore questions than they already do." I tell him, feeling my chest move up and down heavily. Eddie nods slightly, understanding.

We both had wanted to keep it a secret because we hadn't wanted to give our friends another big change to deal with. We felt like it wasn't fair to them especially after everything that had happened, given we didn't expect to keep it a secret for so long. But the town was finally getting back to normal.

"We don't have to sneak around much longer, I promise." I smiled at him, pushing back his hair out of his face.

"I know, (Y/N). The town has almost everything rebuilt and people are finally starting to move back into their homes." He nods, leaning over to grab a cigarette off the nightstand. I watch as he sits up, lighting it before leaning against the wall of his bed.

Wayne and him had gotten a good amount of hush money from the 'misunderstanding' and bought a nice little house for the two of them here in Hawkins. People were fleeing after having realized Hawkins was more 'cursed' than they thought. But that meant that Wayne finally had his own room ever since having taken Eddie in when he was a boy. I hated how it had to of happened, but I was happy they were able to make the best of things.

I smiled at him as he offered the cigarette to me, taking it between my fingers. Bringing the cigarette to my lips, I inhaled deeply picturing the reactions of everyone once they knew.

"Do you think they would find it weird? Even though they keep asking why we aren't together yet?" I look at him, watching his eyebrow furrow as he takes the cigarette back between his fingers.

"Why would they find it weird?" He asks, blowing smoke out of his lips. Shrugging, I blush slightly.

"Because it actually happened? And maybe they will find it weird because they didn't expect it to." I tell him nervously.

"Do you think dating me is weird?" Eddie teases, passing the cigarette back to me.

"No," I laugh as the smoke bursts out of my mouth.

"Well then they shouldn't think any different." Eddie reassures me placing his hand on my knee, giving it a light squeeze before handing me the cigarette with his other hand.

"It's just this will be big news to them, especially Dustin. He looks up to you so much." I sigh, putting the cigarette out in his ashtray.

"I know sweetheart, but I don't think them knowing would change anything, hell like we said they keep asking both of us when it's going to happen." He reminds me, drawing circles on my knee with his finger lightly. Eddie chuckles, causing me to smile I turn towards him.

"What?" I laugh lightly.

He smiles slightly, shaking his head.

"It's just you've never actually told me what the girls say to you." Eddie tells me, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I felt my face redden as he looked at me, knowing there was a reason I never told him about what goes down at girl's night. It's the same reason I try to not pry about boy's night.

Pulling my hands to my face, I feel a nervous laugh escape my lips.

"They just ask the normal things. Like what I think of you, if would I date you," I tell him, as my voice trails off " or If I would uh um sleep with you." I mumble, hoping he didn't hear the last part.

But unfortunately Eddie did, causing a grin to spread across his face, brown eyes shinning.

"Oh and what do you say? Would you sleep with the freak?" He teases.

"Wouldn't you wish to know." I laugh, shoving my shoulder against his.

"Well I tell the guys I think the world of you." Eddie smiles knowingly, connecting my hand with his.

--------------

Girls night has been a on full spring, El and Max shoving Chinese takeout into my hands as soon as I walked through the door. We watched some movies we all brought since we couldn't check out movies from Family Video after it had been destroyed. We also painted our nails, and even convinced El to let me pierce her ears after watching Grease.

It had been a fun night so far. Which is why at 1 am when we ended up laying around the living room, I knew it was far from over as our monthly talk was executed.

As always Max started the conversation, turning towards Nancy.

"Okay, so Nancy we need to know. How is it with Jonathan being back?" Max asks innocently, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth, watching as Nancy smiles. "Leaving your bedside drawer alone now?" Max continues, getting straight to business as Nancy's eyes widen while her face goes red.

I laugh, as Nancy gasped.

"Max," She laughed nervously, tossing some popcorn at her. Giggling, Max puts her hands up in defense.

"Hey, were were all thinking it." Max shrugs as Robin chuckles at the sight.

"You still didn't answer her question Wheeler." Robin smirks making Nancy glow more as she pushes her hair off her shoulder nervously.

"It's uh- um been nice." Nancy admits, "And yes, I've-um been leaving my bedside drawer alone more often now." She said sheepishly, bringing her hands to her face as we all erupted in a howl to her response.

Still giggling Max turns towards me, still wanting to start off tonight's talk headstrong. I raise my eyebrow at her in challenge as she grins in acceptance.

"Now enough about Nancy, how about you (Y/N). Have you found someone to take place of the box in your closet?" She questions, making all the girls turn towards me. I shake my head, popping a few M&Ms into my mouth.

"I think you need to stop snooping through our rooms and take a look under your boyfriend's bed." I laugh, leaning back into the couch.

"Erica has said some things." I tell her as she shakes her head in disgust.

"Uh gross, I don't care to know what boys look at. They go feral over a piece of bread." Max shudders. Making us all snicker at her sudden repulsion.

"But let's be real, has anyone caught your eye yet?" Robin continues for Max, making eye contact with me. As I shake my head, shrugging.

"I'm just not looking to get into a new relationship." I admit, telling partially the truth. El furrows her eyebrows at me.

"Don't you want to be happy?" El asks, making me shake my head at what this poor girl has been taught.

"You don't need someone to be happy, and my box in my closet takes care of me very well." I tell them, pointing at the other three. They all share a glance before Nancy turns back towards me.

"You know who I think would be okay with your box?" Nancy says, making me hum in response as she gains confidence.

"Eddie." She smirks as Robin claps in excitement.

"Oh yes defiantly! Remember when we were in his room and saw the handcuffs on his wall!" Robin reminds Nancy. Causing Max to smile in response.

"He defiantly is a freak for reasons people don't know." Max nods as the older girls nod in agreement. Poor El looked confused, not understanding how far sex can actually go.

"Why would he have handcuffs in his room? He's not a police officer." El asks, causing all of us to laugh nervously.

"That's a conversation for another day honey." I tell her as she nods, understanding I'll explain it to her a different day. I was trying to not let my face redden at the conversation at hand, because I had defiantly used those handcuffs on multiple occasions; on me and Eddie.

"I still haven't heard a no, have you ladies?" Robin raises a eyebrow, glancing at the girls.

"I have not either Robin." Nancy agrees as all their eyes go back on me causing me to laugh lightly.

"Eddie is just a friend." I lie causing all of them to roll their eyes.

"So was Jonathan." Nancy states.

"And so was Lucas." Max reminds, making me feel defensive.

"That doesn't mean me and Eddie are going to become anything." I point out.

"But he likes you." El states, not understanding why we wouldn't date each other.

"What?" I choke on my drink, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"He likes you, I can tell." She tells me.

"He most defiantly likes you." Nancy agrees.

"And you like him too." El points out.

"I don't think you guys know what you're seeing." I roll my eyes, throat starting to tighten under the pressure of the girls.

"(Y/N) will you please just admit you're into him." Robin begs. As Max fights herself on sharing a piece of information, before deciding to share it with the room.

"You're over there almost every night for some reason." Max speaks up.

"You pay attention to when I'm over there?" I look at her, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie's home hadn't been the only one available in the neighborhood he moved to, just like his trailer wasn't the only one to get ruined. Max once again had became his neighbor as her mom had to find a new place to live.

"Funny enough the nights you aren't there, Eddie doesn't seem to be home either." Max smirks, knowing she connected the dots a few months ago as the girls soak up the information.

Nancy's face lights up as she realizes what she just heard.

"OH MY GOD." She says sitting up, slamming her hands on the floor.

"OH MY GOD!" She squeals, "You two are already dating!" She points at me as my face turns red, not knowing how I could get out of this.

Everyone jumps up slightly at my face turning red. Sighing, I pick up a Twizzler.

"You can't tell anyone." I point it at them as they scream. After everyone calms down Max leans forward.

"So does he really live up to the freak title?" Max asks, causing a laugh to escape my lips.

------

Eddie's P.O.V

Instead of being in bed with (Y/N), I'm stuck here listening to Dustin give Steve Harrington love advice. Not that I don't find it amusing that King Steve is now needing a 15 year old to tell him what to do to find a girlfriend.

"I'm telling you that you need to find your Suzie dude." Dustin tells Steve while all of us guys lay in different parts of the living room. Steve looked annoyed with the young boy, wondering why he always felt the need to help him.

"How come you don't bug Eddie on finding his Suzie." Steve says defensively, wanting not to the the topic of conversation.

Curiously I glanced at Dustin, wondering why I haven't heard him bug me on finding someone for a few months actually.

Anyone could tell that Steve's words had taken Dustin aback especially by the way Dustin goes to speak and then pauses for a second when he realized all the eyes were on him. Putting his hands up in defense he goes to speak.

"Okay it's not my place, but I think Eddie has already found his Suzie." Dustin tells us, making my throat turn dry.

"What do you mean?" I ask, rubbing my neck slightly. Dustin turns to me, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, I hear you sneak into my sister's room every other night." Dustin reveals, causing everyone to gasp. "My mom might be deaf but I'm not, and those walls are thin." He tells me.

"Hell yeah man, you found the girl of you dreams. Good for you dude." Argyle smiles, lifting a his drink at me in cheers. While I nod, before turning to Dustin.

"Dustin I don't know who you're hearing but it's not me." I shrug, trying to keep my cool as the boy rolls his eyes.

"How many other people roll up listening to heavy metal? Plus you park right down my alley." He tells me. "Also, I'm not stupid." The younger brother reminds me.

"I park down your alley at midnight, why are you out at midnight?" I question him, leaning towards him.

"Why are you down my alley if you're not dating my sister?" He challenges, leaning forward as well.

"Hold up, hold up. You're telling me Munson here is screwing Henderson?" Steve asks. "How the hell did that happen?" Causing a chuckle to escape my lips, I always knew he had a thing for her, it's probably why he was nice to Dustin in the first place.

I watch as Dustin physically gags.

"Ew dude, don't say that. She's still my sister." He shakes in disgust.

"Well it sounds like you've been listening to it for a few months." I laugh, pulling my beer up to my lips.

"They make Walkman's for a reason." Dustin shivers.

While everyone else caught onto the words that just left my mouth.

"Months?" Mike and Lucas's eye's widen.

"Months," I nod.

"Now that's not fair, I thought she was off limits." Steve shakes his head in annoyance.

"She was supposed to be, but it looks like someone didn't listen." Dustin eyes me, causing a chuckle to escape my lips.

"Okay, to end on a serious note. I am going to need you guys to not say anything because your sister will kill me if she knew I told." I explain to them.

-----

Thank you!

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things spoliers #stranger things season 4 #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imgine #eddie munson imagine

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