#steddie domestic fluff

[acasualcrossfade]

Ice Cream for Breakfast

Written for @thefreakandthehair Summer Fanworks Challenge 2023

Prompt:  “There’s more ice cream on your face than what’s left in the cone.”

Stranger Things, Steve/Eddie, Steddie Dads, Modern AU (No Upside Down), OC Female Character (Sienna Wayne Harrington-Munson)

Rating: T, mild physical intimacy

Words: 5047

Divider art by: @saradika

Find me on Ao3 at thunderously_halo :)

Summary: Steve and Eddie decide to take their four-year-old daughter, Sienna, to get ice cream. For breakfast.

Steve stood in the doorway of their daughter’s playroom as he watched Eddie twirl dramatically. 

Eddie wore his usual black plaid pajamas and gray tee, but sported their daughter’s princess hat on his head. The gossamer tendril at the end fluttered as it followed Eddie through a series of what Steve was sure was an attempt at a leap and a pirouette. The princess hat was tied with a ribbon under his chin as their daughter, Sienna, watched cross legged on the floor in silent amazement. 

It was almost too precious for his heart to handle.

Sienna giggled as Eddie twirled. “Daddy dancing!” she shouted with glee.

Eddie balanced on his tiptoes and then rhythmically glided through the playroom, stepping over building blocks and plastic pieces of food from the kitchen set and Sienna’s abandoned blankie. He hummed as he went and ended with a dramatic bow before falling playfully to the floor. He fell to his back in feign exhaustion. 

“See? Princesses can definitely dance,” Eddie explained. “But oof, Daddy is completely danced out.” 

Sienna wasted no time at all as she scrambled from her seat to climb onto Eddie’s chest. “Daddy dance!” she shrieked, clapping and bouncing, her small legs bracing Eddie’s torso.

Steve stifled another laugh as he caught Eddie wince as Sienna’s body weight crashed into his sternum before he caught her and cuddled her close to kiss her brown curls. He gently reclipped one of her sparkly barrettes she wore; Robin had gifted them and Sienna had screeched in excitement and demanded to clip them in right away. It’d been weeks and Sienna hadn’t taken them out and even slept with them in. The other pink barrette was in a tangled droop in her hair, proof that she’d slept in them again. 

The pink barrettes matched her pink pajamas that were printed with overlapping blue and purple electric guitar emojis. Eddie had thought them cute and got a few pairs, arguing that they were too cute to pass up.

Sienna caught sight of Steve in the doorway and gasped. “Daddy!” she shouted and climbed off of Eddie and straight into Steve. She fell easily into his awaiting arms and he lifted her up. 

“Morning, my sweet pea,” Steve greeted, tickling her and kissing her forehead and cheeks. “I see someone danced out dad.”

Sienna giggled and pointed at Eddie who was now sitting up. “Daddy dance!” She turned back to Steve with her hazel eyes sparking. She smiled wide enough to show off her tiny teeth. “Daddy dance good.”

“I think someone’s a fan of your dance moves,” Steve smiled as Eddie stood to say good morning.

Steve kissed Eddie softly, pausing to also peck a kiss on his cheek. He could tell there was a heavy tiredness behind Eddie’s brown eyes. 

“What time she’d get up?” he asked.

Steve remembered Sienna crawling in their bed last night and falling asleep between the two of them, her soft feet pressed against his back. She’d woken early and both he and Eddie had switched between whispering encouragement to go back to sleep. After an hour, Eddie gave up and took her downstairs to quietly play. 

Eddie leaned on him and yawned. “4:43am,” he sighed. “Should be primed for a nap at what, like ten?”

Steve nodded as he smiled at Sienna, poking her belly gently. “That’s been your usual, huh?”

Sienna responded by pointing at the table. “Ice cream!” 

“Ice cream?” Steve asked, eying Eddie. He was usually behind Sienna’s sudden want for sugar.

“We were also having an ice cream tea party,” Eddie explained. “She’s been all about the ice cream lately.” Eddie wasn’t lying. Sienna loved ice cream and had been the reason for their near-daily evening walk to Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlour. She loved getting her kiddie scoop of double chocolate chip while demanding a taste of Eddie’s usual Rocky Road and Steve’s Turtle. She’d stick her fingers in the caramel of Steve’s ice cream, marveling at the way it would stick and stretch between her small fingers before licking it off. It only added to the mess that was her eating ice cream, but Steve loved it. And he always made sure to pack extra wipes.

They’d been to the one in town enough times that the owner knew their family personally and had even lent them the keys for one of their late night date nights. It was hard to imagine that years ago Steve had worked one of their locations in Hawkins; it was how he met Robin.  

“Ice cream princess,” Sienna said before giggling and snuggling into Steve’s neck. He hugged her back. 

“Ahh, you want to be an ice cream princess?” Steve asked.

“Daddy princess, Daddy princess,” Sienna giggled. She pointed to Eddie, who still wore the pink princess hat.

“You want me to be the ice cream princess?” Eddie asked her. “Because I’d be honored.” He met Steve’s eyes. “She had me as the tea maker this morning so clearly I’ve moved up a few ranks.”

“I queen,” Sienna explained, squirming in Steve’s arms and he set her down. She went straight to her small play table and held out a plastic piece of cake from her playset. “I queen, you princess.”

Eddie nodded seriously. “Sit here,” she instructed and then reached for a piece of plastic cake.

She handed it to him as Steve joined them. “Eat?”

“Oh, this looks delicious,” Eddie smiled. He straightened the tipping princess hat on his head before he took a pretend bite of cake.

Steve sat obediently at the table and Sienna gave him a plastic mug. “Ice cream tea!” she laughed. She pretended to blow on it. “It hot.”

“Is it made of melted ice cream?” Steve asked. He took a pretend sip. “Because that tastes just like ice cream.”

“Not melted,” Sienna shook her head and her curls bounced. “It just hot ice cream.”  

Steve nodded knowingly as she handed a mug to Eddie.  

“Oh, we’re having ice cream for breakfast?” Eddie inquired, taking the mug. 

Sienna nodded. “Ice cream for everyone.”

 “Ooo, it’s yummy,” Eddie mused. “Do you have any pancakes or cereal? I would love to have it to go with my ice cream.”

Sienna shook her head. “Only ice cream!” she shouted gleefully.

Steve smiled and took an invisible bite of his cake. “Well, I’m loving this ice cream, even if it is for breakfast.”

“What if we did have ice cream for breakfast?” Eddie suggested, his voice holding the lilt of an idea in motion.

“We are having ice cream for breakfast,” Steve replied, gesturing to his plastic cake.

Sienna had moved on to play in her play kitchen, busying herself with the play pans and skillets. She put a pile of peas in a pan as she hummed.

“I mean having ice cream for breakfast for real,” Eddie explained. “It’s a Saturday morning and we can go to the park after, run off all the sugar, and be home for naptime.”

Steve grimaced as he remembered the way Sienna had refused her afternoon nap after sneaking one too many pieces of Halloween candy. It had ended in a meltdown and a very late nap that had thrown off the entire day.  

“I’m not sure having that much sugar will bode well for naptime.”

“We’ve also got nothing in the calendar tomorrow,” Eddie went on. 

 Steve glanced at his watch. “It’s barely seven. Nothing’s open.”

“Says the man with the keys to Scoops,” Eddie countered. “And just think of the adventure ice cream for breakfast could lead to. Maybe we could have ice cream for breakfast and breakfast for dinner tonight. Start a whole tradition.” Eddie’s eyes sparkled with the idea.

“I dunno,” Steve resisted. He glanced at his daughter who was carrying the pan with the peas in it to serve him.

“Ice cream,” Sienna said confidently. “Yummy!”

She reached her arms out to Steve and he took her in his. As she burrowed into his neck, Steve found his excuses starting to melt. Eddie was right. It was a weekend and what was the worst thing that could happen? She got hopped up on sugar and ran it off at the park? And they had other foods they could have her eat later in the day. Healthy ones, like peas and carrots. 

He inwardly cringed. He sounded like such a dad.

“I can see you thinking,” Eddie smiled. “Does that mean that I should get her shoes?”

Steve took a deep breath and then nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it. And maybe we can make it a tradition.”

Eddie’s face broke into a wide smile. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” 

Steve planted a kiss against Sienna’s small birthmark at her ear. “Well, what do you say, Sienna? Want to go to Scoops to get ice cream for breakfast?”

Sienna’s face went wide with excitement. “Ice cream!!!” She scrambled out of Steve’s arms and jumped around. “Ice cream, ice cream, Scoops! Ice cream, ice cream, Scoops,” she cheered. Her small feet bounced her around happily and she grabbed her blankie. “Blankie too?”

“Yep, we’re all going to Scoops,” Steve smiled. “Daddy’ll help you put on your shoes.” He turned back to Eddie. “And her bag’s still upstairs from when we came back from the library storytime yesterday?”

Eddie nodded as Sienna wiggled happily in his arms. “Yeah, I left it up there to remind me to add more wipes.”

“Okay, I’ll get us packed and meet you at the car.” Steve stood to head upstairs but Eddie grabbed his wrist to pull him close.

Eddie kissed his lips softly and smiled. “I love mornings with you,” he murmured. “Even if they sometimes start before sunrise.”

“Mornings with you are nothing in comparison to how much I love watching the two of you eat ice cream,” Steve teased. “The extra wipes will be for the both of you.”

Eddie smiled and kissed Sienna’s cheek. “Like father, like daughter.” He pecked another kiss on Steve’s cheek. “See you in the car.”

Steve headed to the kitchen, smiling as the house was filled with the sound of Sienna’s laughs as Eddie put on her shoes. Before Steve made it to the kitchen, he heard her tell-tale whines as Eddie convinced her that they couldn’t take every single toy in the car with them. 

Since Eddie still wore his pajama pants, Steve stayed in his, but chose to slip on a different shirt that had less holes in it. Then he found the diaper bag and thumbed through its contents. 

He’d packed her diaper bag enough times to do it with his eyes closed, but when he noticed her extra pair of clothes missing (the spilled juice at the library yesterday, he remembered), he went to grab another pair from her dresser. When he opened the drawer, his heart squeezed at the neatly folded pants and shirts organized in sets. He took a pair with flowers printed on the shirt and pants, looking at how much they like clothes for a tiny person. Which is what Sienna was now.

When had she gotten so big? 

He remembered how nervous he was the day she was born, and it wasn’t until her little body was placed in his arms when it all was suddenly real. He was a dad. A father. He’d held her close as her tiny body snuggled against him. Steve’s jangled nerves had calmed as his love for her poured over any anxiety he had. Whatever the future held, he’d be there by her side.

Steve smiled at the memory and packed her extra blankie and before he let himself think too hard about it, her pacifier. She’d mostly outgrown it, but in dire cases, she still found comfort from it. He zipped up the bag and shouldered it, and then closed the shades before leaving the room. 

Downstairs was quiet when he returned to the first floor, and Steve adjusted the bag on his shoulder before reaching up to the shelf next to the fridge. He patted his hand around on the third shelf, feeling for the brass key to Scoops. Sure enough, he felt the cold metal meet his hand and he grabbed it and pocketed it before leaving the house. The front door lock clicked and Steve turned to see the door to their van open and Eddie leaning in as Sienna ran around on the inside.

“So that’s a negative on getting her buckled in?” Steve joked as he approached the car. “I’m surprised she even made it in the car at all.”

“Me too,” Eddie huffed. He had one knee in the car as he tried to reach her. “I’m about two seconds away from letting her get an extra topping if she can just buckle in.”

“Sienna,” Steve called as he dropped her diaper bag in the backseat. She stood in the middle aisle of the car looking like she was contemplating hiding under the seat in the back. “We can’t get ice cream unless you buckle in.”

“I know it’s your least favorite part of the car,” Eddie added. “And we’ve got to drive because we’re going to the park after ice cream.”

Sienna still stood with her arms crossed, but had inched toward her seat the mention of both ice cream and the park.

Eddie managed to reach her before she made the climb into the front seat and lifted her into her car seat.

Immediately, the flurry of kicking began, followed by whiny tears.

“It’s your least favorite, I know,” Eddie sympathized. “And you can kick and scream, but we’ve still gotta buckle you in. It helps keep you safe.”

Sienna writhed, pushing her small body up into a stiff board as she flat-out refused to bend into her car seat.

Eddie kept nodding in sympathy and Steve helped him catch when she finally went lax, snapping the top buckle together as Eddie clicked in her other buckle.

Sienna squirmed and cried, her face pinched and red.

“I know, baby,” Steve soothed. “I know it’s uncomfortable.” And they’d done everything they could to help the process be better, from seatbelt covers and toy distractions, but it was a simple fact: Sienna hated being buckled in. 

“I can drive,” Eddie offered. “You want Daddy to sit back here with you?” he asked his daughter. 

Sienna nodded pitifully.

“And he can read some stories?” Eddie asked, nodding to the pile of books next to her car seat. 

Steve was already pulling out a book and handed Eddie the car keys. “I think the ride’s long enough for The Little Engine That Could,” he mentioned to her.

Sienna’s teary face pouted but she reached for the book. “Story?”

“Absolutely, sweetie, I’ll read to you,” Steve said as Eddie started the car and started to drive. 

Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor wasn’t anything fancy. It was white and wooden and had a simple nautical theme to it. It had a few stairs in front, and a ramp on the side, both painted white with the railings wrapped in thick rope. There were two doors to go in and out, and each had half a helm on it. They were bronze but golden with use, and they gleamed in the morning sun.

Steve used the long brass key to click open the lock and stepped to the side to punch in the code to disable the alarm. Once it was disabled, he took a minute to take in the empty, eerily quiet parlor. It was a complete opposite to how he usually saw the place; in the evenings, the counter was bustling with people placing orders or waiting on their order, and kids of all heights peered into the ice cream display freezer with excitement and awe. 

But now the parlor stood still. The chairs were stacked on tables and there was only the low hum of the running freezers. The oddly harsh white lights of the ice cream display freezers gave the parlor a soft glow, almost as if it was bathed in quiet magic. But the quietness was shattered as Sienna ran in behind him, weaving through the small aisles between the tables and climbing into one of the booths. 

“It’s crazy to be here in the morning,” Eddie mentioned as he looked around for the lights. “It almost seems too quiet.”

Steve braced himself for the brightness of the fluorescents, but instead, Eddie had turned on the ambience lights over the ice cream, giving the whole place an even softer glow. The ice cream looked welcoming under the lights, and Steve was suddenly hit with memories of endless evenings and shifts spent slinging ice cream with Robin. Steve made a mental note to give her a call later.

The freezers were cold to the touch. Flavors upon flavors of ice cream lined the double freezer including everything from sherbert and bubblegum to fruity gelato and cookie dough. 

He made his way behind the counter, already looking for where the scoops were kept. Sure enough, they hung next to the freezer and he grabbed one, flipping it in his hand. He caught it easily and smiled. Some things you just didn’t forget. 

 “Ahoy there,” Steve called. “Would you like to sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain.”

Eddie face flashed with something like want as Sienna ran up to the counter.

 “What would you like, sweet pea?” Steve asked her. Eddie lifted her so she could see the freezers and she pointed with a wondered gaze at all the flavors. “Try? I try?” she asked.

“You can try a three,” Steve instructed. 

“I’m tempted to ask you to make me that banana split sail boat,” Eddie laughed as he browsed the flavors.

Steve made a face. “I swore on my last shift that I’d never make one again.”

“Was it really that horrible?” 

“No, no, it’s not the ice cream that’s the issue with it. It’s the stupid sails that go on top of it.” Steve rolled his eyes at the memory. “Do you know how hard it was to get that sail shape out of a waffle cone? During a busy shift?” Steve shook his head. “Never again.”

Eddie pondered that for a second before nodding with understanding. He adjusted Sienna in his arms so that she could press her small hands against the glass.

“So what do you think, kiddo?” he asked her. “Anything looking good?”

“All of them!” Sienna rocked excitedly in Eddie’s arms, pointing at all the flavors trying to decide. 

It took three samples for Sienna to settle on double chocolate chip, and it took Eddie seven samples before realizing he wanted one scoop of Rocky Road and one scoop of Moose Tracks. 

Steve pulled the ice cream scooper out from the hot water and started scooping. His arm remembered the ‘S’ motion to scoop, and he watched the small scooper yield a perfectly round scoop of ice cream. He added it easily to the small cup he held in his other hand. 

“That’s for Sienna,” he said before pulling out another clean ice cream scoop for Eddie’s.

“Mm, my man still got it,” Eddie purred, watching Steve add his scoop into a cup. 

“Never lost it,” Steve replied. The scoop made its way easily through the ice cream, and as Steve added into the cup, he looked up to watch Eddie as he monitored their daughter as she ran between the tables

The sight was almost too much. 

He’d gotten used to looking up from behind the counter to see a line of customers, but now, looking up to see his husband chasing their daughter made his heart skip. And most of all, he got to watch as he did one of the things he did best: scoop ice cream. 

He was tempted to pinch himself; this was beyond any life he could have dreamed for himself.

“You want to add the fudge?” Steve called to Eddie as he finished his order. 

Eddie had gone crazy at the sight of the hot fudge sundae faucet when they’d first visited and each time after.

“Oh absolutely.” Eddie rushed out excitedly. He grabbed his cup of ice cream off the top of the freezer and then held it under the faucet to coat it in hot fudge. 

Steve snickered. “I see you take your hot fudge with your ice cream instead of the other way around.”

“You know it,” Eddie winked. He took a lick of the hot fudge sauce and nodded appreciatively. “They know what they’re doing with their hot fudge.”

Steve didn’t bother trying to hide his stare at the peek of Eddie’s tongue. 

Sienna shrieked as she ran back towards them and Eddie scooped her up with one arm. “You having fun?” he asked, giving her an open smile.

“Playing tag!” Sienna wiggled as she fought to be put down. Eddie complied and she took off again. 

Steve focused on scooping his own ice cream, glad when Eddie was working to get Sienna in a seat. Once Steve came with her cup and spoon, she wasted no time digging in. 

Eddie studied his pool of hot fudge before digging in. “Okay, that’s delicious,” he smiled, ice cream already on his lips and face. 

Steve was tempted to lick it off.

Sienna waved her spoon, sprinkling Steve’s face with chocolate specks. “Oops,” he gasped. “Here, spoon goes here. You can wave the napkin around if you want, though,” he tried, guiding Sienna’s spoon through the ice cream for another bite

Sienna just smiled her toothy grin and took another bite of ice cream. The cone stood in her melting ice cream and she grabbed it to happily crunch on it.

“Is it good?”

She nodded happily. “Yummy!” Her focus was on the cup and spoon in front of her and how to get another successful spoonful. 

“You’re doing really well with that,” Steve commented. 

“Like you,” she pointed at Steve and his spoon. “I like you.”

Steve’s heart threatened to burst. “Yeah, you’re using your spoon just like me, kiddo.” 

He snuggled closer to Eddie. 

“I can’t believe it,” Steve mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder. 

“What?” Eddie asked. He offered Steve a bite of his and Steve ate easily off his spoon. 

Steve swallowed before answering. “Ugh, I always forget how good Rocky Road is,” he laughed.

“Glad I’m always here to share,” Eddie smiled sweetly. “What can’t you believe?” “That we did this. And that I get to feed you ice cream on a Saturday morning.” Steve smiled.  Steve fed Eddie a bite of his, being sure to add a little extra fudge to the bite before he ate it. 

Eddie nudged his knee. “And I’m thoroughly enjoying it,” he said with his mouth full of ice cream. 

In the end, Sienna’s small hands were covered in sticky chocolate ice cream and most of the cone was already broken and soggy in the melting pool of ice cream. Still, Sienna continued dipping her fingers in the chocolate pool before taking a piece of cone and sucking on it happily. Her face was smeared with chocolate and bits of ice cream cone. One small piece had even gotten stuck on above her eyebrow.

“There’s more ice cream on your face than what’s left in the cone,” Steve laughed. 

But Sienna was perfectly content to dip her fingers into her cup of now-melted ice cream and lick them gleefully.

Eddie didn’t fare much better and when Steve looked over, Eddie had a ring of chocolate around his lips and cheeks. 

“You match our daughter,” Steve laughed. He leaned into Eddie and kissed him, choosing at the last second to lick the corner of Eddie’s mouth. It was the best tasting chocolate Steve had ever had. 

Eddie kissed him back but when he went to stroke Steve’s cheek, he remembered his hands were covered in ice cream. “I’ll get the napkins,” he smiled. “We can pick up all this later.”

“Holding you to that, by the way,” Steve replied as Eddie returned with another stack of napkins. He reached for one to clean Sienna’s face.

“Here, sweet pea, let me see your face,” Steve guided. Sienna obediently looked up at him. Her hazel eyes looked up at the ceiling as he dabbed her mouth and cheeks with the clean napkin. 

The napkin did nothing but stick to her face and hands and Steve grimaced. Everything had gotten stickier.

“Calling an SOS,” Steve requested, thankful that Eddie was already grabbing the wipes from the diaper bag. “Hand me a few,” he added. “She’s definitely going to need more than one.”

The wipes were better and once Sienna’s cheeks and lips were clean, Steve moved on to her hands. He played This Little Piggy as he cleaned each finger, his own face breaking into a smile at her giggles as he tickled her.

Steve finished his ice cream and once Sienna started climbing off the booth to start pulling down chairs, they figured it was time to go.

The drive from the mall to the small park wasn’t far and Sienna ran towards the park as soon as they’d arrived. 

“Bet she’ll be tired once we hit the swings,” Eddie said, giving Steve a nudge.

Sure enough, Sienna spent the first twenty minutes running around making silly faces at her dads and then found her way to the slide. She was more than happy to climb up again and again to slide down to either of her father’s waiting arms. 

“Again, again!” she clapped each time she fell into their arms. 

And they went again and again before Sienna pointed towards the swings. “Sings? she asked, pointing at them and looking at her dads. 

“You want to swing?” Eddie asked. “I can push you.”

It took Eddie a second to get her legs through the swing holes, but once she was in place, he pushed her.

Steve came up behind him and hugged him from behind as he pushed Sienna.

“She loves the swings,” he sighed. 

“Just like you,” Eddie nudged. “Now come on, show her how you swing.” He turned to Sienna, who now had a permanent smile on her face as the world swung by. “Sisi, watch Daddy,” Eddie encouraged her.

Steve climbed on the swing and kicked off the ground, letting himself swing back and forth slowly to start. He hadn’t done this in years and once he was sure the swing was sturdy, he pumped his legs then leaned his head back. The sudden rush made him gasp in surprise, then laugh as he righted himself and kept swinging.  His continued laughs echoing around the park with his daughter’s.

Sienna was already copying Steve and putting her head back. And she screamed at the rush of it all as she held on tightly to the side of the swing but her face was a wide toothy smile. This continued until she grew more pensive, glancing around at the world as Eddie gently pushed her.

It was another few minutes before Sienna was rubbing her eyes and Eddie slowed the swing to hand her her blankie from the diaper bag. She took it and buried her face in it.  Then she reached her hands towards Eddie.

“Mm, I think someone’s getting tired,” Eddie mentioned as he stopped the swing to lift her out of it. She snuggled into his shoulder. 

Steve was already grabbing her bag and took the keys from Eddie as they headed back to the car. It was time to go home.

The car ride home was quiet and although Sienna had nearly had a tantrum as she was unfairly buckled in again, it took Steve’s calming reading voice to distract her. She’d quieted as she listened and it took until they pulled up the driveway for her to start dozing off. 

Eddie nodded to him. “I can get her stuff,” he offered. 

Steve nodded and carefully unbuckled Sienna. She shifted and opened her eyes as Steve got her from the carseat. But once she was in his arms, she used his shoulder as a pillow and her other arm curled loosely around his neck in comfort.  

“She sleepin’?” Steve stage-whispered to Eddie. He wanted to make sure before he took her upstairs. 

Eddie nodded. “I’ll meet you in her room.”

Steve made his way into the house, feeling his daughter snuggle deeper into his arms. It was times like these when he wished she could sleep in his arms. They’d tried it once, but Steve found that Sienna slept better when she was in her own bed. 

He unlocked the house one-handed and slipped off his shoes before heading upstairs. Sienna was warm against him and she smelled like chocolate. He kissed her gently as he climbed the stairs and was glad when the shades in her room were still drawn from last night. Carefully, he laid her in her bed and covered her before pressing a kiss to her temple. 

Eddie came up behind him and squeezed his shoulder. “She’s out.” He knelt down to stroke her temple and kiss it.

Steve nodded as he placed her blankie next to her. “Out like a light,” he whispered. He clicked on the baby monitor. He nodded his head to the door and Eddie followed him out.

Once they were downstairs, Steve fell into the couch and Eddie fell on top of him.

“Well, I’d say that was the first successful ice cream for breakfast adventure,” Eddie smiled.

“It was,” Steve agreed. He met Eddie’s eyes after clicking the baby monitor on. Sienna slept soundly upstairs. “And I think we could make it a semi-annual tradition.”

“And maybe a monthly one during the summer?” Steve rolled his eyes. “Leave it to you to want more ice cream. You sound like our daughter.”

Eddie smiled at that. “She is pretty smart. And I have a feeling she’s going to love doing breakfast for dinner.”

“I think so too,” Steve agreed.

They went on talking for a bit before words turned to touches that turned to kisses. And Steve welcomed it all, loving all of Eddie and his adventures, and looking forward to more.

[imfinereallyy]

you can pry happy endings from my cold-dead hands. It can be the most heart stopping, gut wrenching fic that has every existed and I will read every drop of it if I get my happy ending. I have had enough painful endings in real life, give me happy in my fantasy world. It can be at the last second, it can be a single sentence, even a single word. Give me all the angst and hurt in the world for 500,000 words, but please give me the comfort I need in the ending. please and thank you.

[hairmetal666]

They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.

Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.

The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.

To Metallica.

And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.

"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.

Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."

"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.

"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"

He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.

"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.

"Well, Dio's pretty okay."

This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.

---

Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.

"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.

Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"

He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.

"You want chips?" He asks.

"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.

"What?"

"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."

And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.

"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"

Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--

"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."

"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."

He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.

---

"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.

"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.

"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.

"Wha--huh?" He blinks.

"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."

"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.

Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.

"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.

"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.

Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.

---

Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.

He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.

Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.

A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.

---

It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.

There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."

He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"

Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"

Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."

"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"

"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."

"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."

Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."

"Of course. It's just--this is just you."

He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."

"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.

He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.

The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"

"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."

He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."

"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.

He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."

"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.

He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.

It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.

"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.

"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"

Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."

"Yeah?"

"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."

"Well, stick around for a while."

Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."

[sweetcreaturetm]

Currently picturing Steve enabling wannabe rockstar Eddie and when they do little shows he helps him with the eyeliner and makeup and maybe a little glitter and tells him how sexy and metal he looks. When they take off he gets his own makeup person and Steve still always tells him how hot he looks before and after the shows.

CC is doing a big reunion tour and they’re doing an interview and the interviewer shows them old ass pics of their old shows and Eddie’s eyes bug out of his head and he’s like ‘y’all let me go out there like this?!’

And they’re like ‘yeah Steve would do your makeup and you were so stupid in love you couldn’t see that he did a terrible job.’

And he gets all doe eyed like he’s remembering when Steve would do his makeup and says ‘well I don’t think it’s that bad… It’s the thought that counts!’

Of course the CC fandom knows Steve so they go feral about him doing Eddie’s early makeup. When Eddie gets home it’s to Steve with his arms crossed. ‘You thought I did a bad job at your makeup 🥺’

And Eddie’s like ‘no baby, I didn’t mean it like that I promise.’ Basically groveling even though he knows Steve is probably joking.

Steve says ‘okay I forgive you…….. if you let me do your makeup for your next show 👹’

And the first show of the tour Steve does Eddie’s makeup like he used to and the fans go crazy when he comes out and they even chant Steve’s name.

[steviewashere]

Single Parent Eddie Munson who goes to a hair salon with his daughter. His daughter is thirteen and experimenting with her style for the first time and got permission to use Manic Panic in her hair. On one condition: she goes to an actual salon to get it done because Eddie does not trust her or himself to do it correctly.

Steve Harrington owns the local hair salon, just a couple blocks away from Eddie's apartment. He specializes in coloring and haircuts. He recognizes the man who enters his salon with his kiddo—Eddie Munson, three time senior, small town rocker and mechanic, who had a kid only a couple years after finally graduating. He thinks it's cute, though, what his clients want.

Eddie's daughter wants her whole head dyed red, bright cherry red. And, Eddie who doesn't want to completely dye his hair, worried about ruining the curls—he just wants a streak in his bangs to match his girlie.

Cue them becoming regular clients, trying out all the new colors they can get their hands on, Eddie with his one streak. And Steve with a heart about to explode out of his chest with adoration and...love for Eddie. It's unethical, probably, to fall in love with his client. But he won't say anything when Eddie's daughter invites him over for dinner because, "My dad won't shut up about you! Which is so annoying of him, but he hasn't been this excited about somebody in a loooonggg time. And, y'know, you're cool in my book."

And sure, when Steve and Eddie start a tentative relationship that eventually blossoms to them moved in and married—Eddie's girl takes full advantage of Steve's skills. She gets her hair done in their bathroom, Eddie on the toilet chatting away, and Steve the most content he's ever been.

Concept :) I don't know if I have the time and whatnot to write this, but if it inspires you, I'd love to read what you write.

[riality-check]

Eddie doesn’t even know how the fight started. Well, that’s a lie. He knows Steve got on him for not folding the laundry, but Eddie isn’t going to admit that he did not, in fact, fold the laundry. That would be treason to himself and to his pride.

So, he told Steve that he “needs to wash the goddamn dishes every once in a while,” and things kind of spiraled from there.

It’s stupid. It’s all so stupid.

Everyone says “it’s never about the dishes,” but in this case, it is. It’s about the dishes, and the laundry, and the shower, and the groceries, and everything else that makes up this little domestic thing they’ve got going on.

It’s all about the little domestic thing they’ve got going on. Eddie never dreamed he’d ever say that sentence and be happy about it, but here he is, fighting with his long-term boyfriend about whatever the two of them decided to complain about next. There’s nothing bigger than this at stake, just the pains of two people trying to live together.

It’s all so stupid. It does, however, make Eddie realize he has very strong opinions on what they tape on the VCR.

“You taped over the latest episode of Star Trek!”

“What am I supposed to do? It’s on at the same time as my show!”

Eddie rolls his eyes, and then, because he’s feeling petty, because this entire thing has been nothing but petty this entire goddamn time, he adds, “And you refuse to sleep on your side, so your snoring keeps waking me up!”

Steve grits his teeth, and Eddie is just waiting for him to come back with something bitchy.

Instead, Steve reaches behind his ears.

“Steve?”

He looks like he’s about to laugh.

No way.

“Steve?” Eddie tries again, and yeah, Steve is rapidly losing a battle against his own face in an effort to try not to smile. 

No goddamn way.

“Did you just turn off your hearing aids?” Eddie asks, incredulous.

Finally, Steve does laugh, hard enough to bring tears to his eyes.

“You sound,” he gasps between laughter, “like the parents in the Peanuts specials.”

Eddie tries not to laugh.

“You know,” Steve says, still laughing. “Like the Charlie Brown cartoons?”

Then, he makes a noise like a toddler trying to play the trumpet, and Eddie just loses it.

He laughs so hard he doubles over, which makes Steve laugh harder, until the two of them are struggling to breathe and wiping tears away from their faces.

When Eddie stands back up, Steve is just a step in front of him, attempting to compose himself.

“Did you turn them back on?” Eddie asks.

“No,” Steve says with a smile.

Eddie rolls his eyes and kisses him because when Steve’s being a jerk on purpose, he’s also at his sweetest.

“Sorry about the dishes,” Steve says against his lips. 

“Sorry about the laundry,” Eddie says when he pulls back.

Steve looks confused.

“Turn them back on!” Eddie teases, motioning to his ears, and before they dissolve into laughter again, Steve does.

Just in time for Eddie to say, “New deal: I’ll do dishes and you do laundry.”

“Deal,” Steve says immediately.

As Eddie makes his way to the kitchen, he laughs to himself. Everyone who made this domestic shit seem difficult and boring is a goddamn liar.

[were-wolverine]

thinking about steve answering the door of eddie’s trailer after staying the night, wearing just boxers and eddie’s hellfire shirt. his hair is a mess and he’s all sleep-soft, there’s definitely a few hickies on his neck, he’s rubbing at his eyes and yawning, and he definitely just woke up.

he opens his eyes to see max’s shocked face right as it turns into a knowing smirk. he groans; she’s going to be absolutely insufferable about this.

steve can hear eddie bumbling around the trailer behind him, and responds to eddie’s yell of who is it? with an eye roll and it’s mayfield!

the noise from inside stops and eddie wanders to the door, peeking over steve’s shoulder with narrowed eyes.

“whaddya want, red?”

max smirk grows when she sees eddie looking similarly rumpled, and she shrugs.

“i was gonna ask for a ride but clearly you two are busy so,” she snickers, “i’ll ask again later.”

with that she turns and walks down the porch steps, leaving them staring after her in confusion.

steve closes the door behind him and leans against it, his hands covering his burning face.

eddie, assuming that steve is panicking about max knowing, tries to reassure him.

“red wont tell anyone until you’re ready, i’ll make sure of it.”

steve looks up incredulously, mind buffering before he realizes what eddie thinks is happening.

“they all already know i like guys,” he waves away eddie’s concern, “it’s not that.”

“what is it then?” eddie asks, lost.

steve blushes and says “that was so fucking awkward! we totally look like we hooked up!”

“well,” eddie argues, “we did.”

steve groans and pushes eddie’s grinning face away.

“you know what i mean asshole.”

***

“you owe me ten dollars,” max crows into the walkie.

dustin screeches "what?!?" right as max holds the walkie away from her ear (it's instinct at this point whenever she radios dustin).

"ten dollars, dustybun!"

"how- when- MAX??" dustin splutters.

max just laughs and turns off the walkie; he'll figure it out eventually

[devondespresso]

Sweet and Spicy

G | 384 words | ao3 link (coming soon!) | Steddie | no cws, just fluff!!

STWG Prompt: Sweetheart ❤️

dividers by @enchanthings (here) and @saradika-graphics (here), thanks for making awesome free dividers guys!!!

Steve was going to die.

Keeled over in the kitchen, using the counter for support, and laughing his ass off as Eddie tried washing his tongue in the sink.

Eddie made a grouchy groan at him, giving up on talking but not on their conversation.

Steve eased down his laughing and righted himself on the counter.

"Eddie, baby, I'm sorry, but what did you think would happen?" he said, wiping amused tears with his wrist, extra careful not to get any trace of pepper juice near his eyes.

Eddie jumped into a heated ramble, but all weight it had was lost as he ranted with his tongue still out and under the water, his words a slew of vowels instead of... well, words.

Steve couldn't help the smile at Eddie's commitment to absurdity.

That, and the slight smile at the edge of Eddie's mouth that said he wasn't really mad about how dumb he was acting.

Steve leaned against the counter like he was listening and covered his mouth to stifle more laughing.

Eddie ran with it, playing up the dramatics while his head was still confined to the sink. Steve only caught a couple words here and there, but once he figured out "ee-thayal" was supposed to be "betrayal" he let out a fond sigh and opened the fridge.

"Mhm, how awful. Someone should've told you these are spicy peppers, Eddie, don't touch the pepper if you don't like spicy, Eddie."

Eddie 'speech' ramped up as Steve grabbed the milk, but he still scooched to the side out of habit when Steve needed to get to the cup cabinet.

Steve poured him a full glass and set it by the sink, then leaned back against the counter and waited for Eddie to notice it.

Eventually, Eddie paused long enough to see the glass next to his boyfriend and snatched it, taking a good few chugs before slamming the glass back on the counter and huffing dramatically.

"My hero. My savior. I am forever in your debt."

He 'swooned' and 'crashed' into Steve's chest. Steve stifled another laugh and nuzzled his cheek into his boyfriend's fluffy hair.

"Maybe just stick to listening to your sweet-tooth."

Eddie's act fell apart as he huffed his own tiny laugh and nuzzled back.

"Yeah, not a problem, sweetheart."

[steddieas-shegoes]

Baby formula was expensive, and Eddie knew the fact that half of the container being spilled on the counter would probably cause Steve to have a heart attack.

It was an accident, obviously. He didn’t just decide to dump half of the powdered gold that fed their newborn daughter on the kitchen counter.

And Steve wouldn’t be mad about it. He didn’t get mad about accidents.

But he would definitely spiral about how that was two days’ worth of bottles for Ella and how they had a budget.

Eddie told him many times they were fine. He had more than enough money in savings from the band’s success, and he knew Steve had his own trust fund that he’d guilted his parents into letting him keep as a way to apologize for never being around in his childhood.

Money wasn’t really an issue for them.

But Steve was still careful with it, and Eddie loved that about him.

Other than their house, they’d never made major purchases, and stuck to necessities only with occasional extra spending for birthdays and Christmas for their loved ones.

But after they adopted Ella, Steve turned into a penny pincher. He stocked up on everything from diapers to formula to baby soap any time there was a sale, and refused to buy the “fancy” brand that had the same ingredients and vitamins as the generic store brand.

Eddie loved him.

But he was very worried about Steve finding out about this.

Maybe if he just cleaned it up and then pretended Ella had had a few extra bottles?

No, then he’d panic that her food intake was abnormal and he’d call the pediatrician and Eddie would have to backtrack and then Steve would be mad.

He pulled the trash can in front of the counter, swiping his hand across quickly to get most of it into the trash.

As he moved the trash can back to its usual spot, Steve came around the corner with Ella in his arms, cooing at her.

God, he was born to do this. Eddie was gonna do everything he could to give him the six nuggets he wanted so he could watch him in his element for as long as possible.

“Say hi to Daddy, Ella,” Steve said before looking up at Eddie, who was wiping down the counter furiously.

Not fast enough if Steve’s face was any indication.

“What are you doing?”

Dammit.

“Just cleaning.”

“You’re wiping the counter.”

“Yes.”

“You never do that.”

“I just finished the dishes so I thought I should.”

“You do the dishes all the time and never do that.”

He was so suspicious. Rightfully so.

Eddie knew he was found out, or if he wasn’t quite yet, he would be as soon as Steve saw the trash.

He sighed, letting his head fall down and his chin hit his chest.

“Eds, what is it?”

Steve was walking behind the counter, concern on his face. Concern for Eddie. Concern he didn’t deserve.

“I spilled something, it’s not a big deal.”

“Okay. But you’re being weird about it so it makes me think it is a big deal.”

And then he saw it. He must have, because Eddie watched him freeze in his tracks and stare down at where the trash is.

“Stevie, it’s not a big deal. I’ll go get another can to make up for it.”

“What happened?”

“I was measuring out her nighttime bottle and knocked the can over.”

“That’s a lot of formula.”

“I know.”

And then Steve started laughing.

It startled Ella in his arms and she let out a whimper like she was about to start crying.

Steve handed her to Eddie so he could lean over, hands on his knees, and laugh louder.

“Ella, your dad’s lost it.”

“Sorry,” Steve said as he tried to gasp for air between hysterical laughter. “Just- you were so serious. Why didn’t you just say that?”

Eddie knew he wasn’t seriously asking that.

“Sweetheart, you’re kind of insane about this stuff. In a good way! I love you because you’re a little crazy! But like, that was a lot of formula and it’s wasteful and costs a lot to replace.”

Steve’s face went serious.

“Baby, you don’t think I’d be mad about an accidental spill, do you?”

Oh no, he was hurt.

Eddie hurt his feelings.

“No! No. It’s not that. It’s just you’re so serious about the budget and this would mess it up.”

“It’s just a little. And it’s not like we actually have to live so tight.”

That was suspicious. What the hell did that mean?

Steve wasn’t changing his mind on the budget, was he?

He must’ve done something.

“Oh my god. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh yes you did. Your face is bright red and you look like you committed a felony. I would know what that looks like since we’ve committed at least two together.”

Steve somehow blushed harder.

“It wasn’t a felony.”

“Aha! But it was something!”

The tables turned awful quickly. Eddie didn’t know how, but he’d take it. Anything to get the focus off of him.

Ella was gurgling in his arms, eyes flitting between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match.

“Well, you know how we talked about getting an RV, right? Since we had Ella now and might try to adopt again? Since it’s one of the things I want more than anything?”

“You bought an RV.”

Eddie was smirking at Steve, who probably expected him to be upset, but Eddie was thrilled.

Not only would they be able to travel the way Steve wanted to, Steve had thrown their budget right out the fucking window.

“I put a down payment on an RV. I told them I had to talk to you first.”

“This is gold.”

“We did technically talk about it already.”

“We did.” Eddie bounced Ella in his arms and looked down at her. “Wanna go on a road trip, angel?”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting for you to spend my money for years. This is the third best day of my life.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Eddie walked up to him and kissed the corner of his mouth, then his nose, and finally his lips.

“I love you and your crazy budget.”

“I love you and your ignorance of how money works.”

“That’s why I have you, sweetheart.”

Steve rolled his eyes but nodded.

“We can pick up the RV tomorrow if you want.”

“Did you plan our first trip yet?”

“No.”

Eddie raised a brow at him.

“Yes.”

Eddie jumped up once, making Ella giggle.

“Where are we going?”

“I figured you’d wanna take Wayne to the Smoky Mountains.”

Of course he did. Of course he thought about what Eddie would want and what would make Wayne happy and what he could do to make it happen.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then I guess we better make a stop at Wayne’s house tomorrow with the RV.”

[imfinereallyy]

“Good morning, Robs.” Steve nods to Robin’s sprawled figure on their couch.

“Good morning, dingus.” Robin looks up at Steve with a sleepy smile into her morning coffee.

“How was your date last night?” Steve makes a cup of coffee and walks over to the couch. He lifts Robin's legs and lays them across his lap as he settles into the worn-down furniture.

“Oh! It was so good.” Robin perks up. “God, it’s so nice to actually know other gay people in the city and have safe places to go, unlike Hawkins. Violet was so sweet, and she took us to the little lesbian bar on 4th, and we just talked and drank for hours! I felt bad at first about missing movie night with you and Eddie, but I’m sorry, babes, but it was worth it!”

Steve smiles at his platonic soulmate with as much love as he can muster. He’s so happy for her, finding herself in college, especially after the disaster that was Vickie and the post-apocalypse. Besides, he really couldn’t be mad she missed out. “I’m glad you had a good night, Birdie.”

“Steve! You have no idea! She wore this cute skirt with knee-highs, and oh god, I could see her thighs! You know how I feel about thighs.” Robin gave him a pointed look, and Steve couldn’t help but hum in agreement. Thighs were nice. “And she gave me the softest kiss while we were still inside the bar like she wasn’t embarrassed by all my rambling and thinking out loud. Which she said she thought was cute, after I said that out loud. And Steve, I need to tell you about the less soft kisses we had later, but first, I have a question.”

Steve laughed lightly at Robin's antics. She had no idea the power she had. It was hard not to fall in love with her, platonically or romantically. “Sure, Robs. Shoot.” Steve took a sip of his coffee, not thinking much of it.

Robin ever so calmly stated, “Why do you have a hickey on your neck?”

Steve choked on his coffee. He had to lean forward to stop himself from going blue. Robin pushed herself up and pats his back. Steve barely managed out a spluttered out, “What?”

Robin put down her coffee and gave him a kind but pointed look. “The giant ass hickey on your neck. When did you get that.”

“I do not have a hickey on my neck!” Steve’s voice went a pitch higher than normal, not particularly helping his case.

Robin gave him a ‘seriously’ face before she reached over and dug her fingers into the bruise on his neck.

“Owww!” Steve slapped her hand away.

“Want to explain what that is then, Steven.”

Steve scrunched his face up, “Ew, don’t call me Steven.”

“Stop avoiding the question. Why do you have a hickey? As far as I’m concerned, I’m the one who went on a date last night. You only had Eddie over for movie—“ A look of realization crossed Robin’s face before it broke out into pure glee. “No! You didn’t!”

Steve spluttered again, despite the coffee being nowhere near him. “I didn’t do anything!” He continued to deny it.

“Oh you did! You finally did! You made out with Eddie!”

Steve knew it was useless to fight her on it, but he couldn’t help it. He was stubborn. “Ssshh, nothing happened. It’s just a bruise. Stop making this bigger than it is.”

Robin cackled, “Oh Steve, I know I should be mad you’re trying to lie right now. But I can’t be; I’m just too happy. First Violet, and now this? This is the happiest, gayest day of my life!”

Steve put his head in his hands, no longer denying.

“Besides, why are you shushing me? It’s not like there is anyone else here…” Robin trailed off, and Steve could tell the moment she put it all together. If he thought she looked happy before, now she looked straight up devious. “…Oh my god! Steve! Is he in your bed? Is he naked?” Robin was shaking Steve with excitement. At this rate, he would get a concussion from his brain being smacked around his skull.

“…no.” Steve said shyly as images of the night before came to his mind.

The boring movie. Eddie’s head thrown back at Steve’s jokes. The leaning together. Eddie’s grip on Steve’s thigh. The nose brush. The crash of lips. The tearing off of clothes. The stumbling to the bedroom. The moans.

Now is not the time to get a boner. Not while his best friend is still shaking the shit out of him.

“No? Really, so if I go into your room right now, I won’t find Eddie in it?” Robin stared at him. They both got completely still. It was as if that weird telepathy thing the kids always think they have, was actually true. Because Steve can sense it. Can sense that Robin was going to make a break for the door.

She took off in a dash, but Steve was quicker. He tackles her to the ground with a loud ‘oof’. “Get off me, dingus! I need to know!”

Steve tried to pin her to the ground, but she was freakishly strong and yanked him by the hair, “No, Robin, let me have some privacy!”

They tumble around for a few minutes, yelling and scrapping at each other. Neither of them truly got the upper hand. Then suddenly, a door opens. Both Robin and Steve’s heads snap up in the direction of footsteps approaching them.

Then, in front of them, is Eddie in only boxers covered from head to thigh in hickies. “I always forget you two are morning people.” Eddie rubbed the early hours out of his eyes, leaned down to place a kiss on top of Steve’s head, and made his way into the kitchen.

A blush makes its way to Steve’s face but he knows he’s sporting a goofy smile.

“Wow, Dingus. You really marked your territory.” Robin snorts below him. Then Robin leaned over to the side to peek at Eddie’s back. “Is that hickey in the shape of a heart?!”

Steve leapt off of Robin and into the safety of the kitchen, behind the said bruised back.

“So much for soft mornings with you and Robs.” Eddie giggles into his coffee.

Steve just huffed a laugh into the crease between Eddie’s spine and shoulder.

***

happy pride! wanted something soft to get me back in the groove of writing and the start to my pride month pieces.

[hairmetal666]

"I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he declares to all and sundry (Steve and Robin) in Family Video.

Steve laughs, ducks his head, hair a bountiful cascade that doesn't move an inch. He's blushing but it's not, like, a reaction to the sentiment of marriage. Steve knows Eddie is just like that, flirtatious and over-the-top and incapable of not speaking his thoughts as soon as they enter his head.

Robin roles her eyes, goes back to flipping through her magazine, something about cinema, and Eddie swipes his just rented movies off the counter.

"You think I'm joking," he twists so he's facing them, walking backwards to the door. "But I swear it, oh, beloved purveyor of movies and deleter of late fees."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve's face is pinker than before and Eddie recognizes and immediately forces himself to forget how cute it is. "But get out of here before I change my mind."

And Eddie, he loves to push his luck and also has very little filter between his brain and his mouth, so he says, "aw, don't be that way, Stevie, you love me."

Robin looks up, then, mouth a pursed twist as she tries not to laugh. "Gross, Eddie." She throws a Sour Patch at him. "Keep all that mushy stuff to when you two are alone."

It's his turn to blush, fierce and raging, and Steve whirls, squeaking, to whack Robin with a Twizzler.

Eddie points at her. "Rude, Buckley. You know I love you too."

"Again, gross." She sticks out her tongue, tinged blue from the Sour Patch.

"We really need to work on your ability to accept affection," Steve tells her.

She scowls, kicks him, makes Eddie laugh.

"I think that's my cue to leave, children." He says. He, quite literally, bows out of the store, just missing the barrage of candy thrown his way.

---

Three Months Later

Eddie stumbles into the Harrington house, kicking his boots off by the door. Steve's in the kitchen, fussing around the stove. His hair's askew and he's--

"Harrington, are you wearing an apron?" He ignores the kick in his chest at the sight. "You'll make a sweet little housewife one day."

"Shut-up," Steve says without any heat. "Try this."

He brandishes a spoon filled with red sauce in Eddie's direction, and Eddie--heart always on his sleeve--eagerly leans in to taste. He closes his eyes, savors, and it's good, truly. Perfect fresh acidity with just a burst of sweetness.

"It's amazing, baby," he says without thinking. He opens his eyes right in time to see Steve turning back to the sauce, blush high on his cheekbones.

"Thanks. You're making me nervous though, hovering." Steve hip checks him. "Go sit somewhere."

And Eddie does, jumps onto the island--the Harrington's are the kind of people who have an island--and chatters to Steve about his day, about his new campaign, about the new song he's trying to learn.

All the while, he's watching Steve cook, in his apron, with such care and thoughtfulness, with true command. Maybe it's the domesticity of the scene, maybe his raging crush, but he has this flash of the two of them in the future. In their kitchen, Steve cooking dinner, and Eddie's arms are wrapped around his waist, he's pressing kisses to his temple, complimenting all his hard work and--

Steve feeds him a bite of the finished pasta, and it's so good that he groans, full-throated, unembarrassed, and says--he says, "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington."

He laughs, face pink, batting Eddie's shoulder. "Go sit down, man. It's time to eat."

---

Two Months After That

Eddie's working on a new campaign when the storm rolls in, wind rocking the trailer, thunder and lightning crackling in the sky. The power doesn't go out, but only just barely, the flickers making his heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with weather.

There's a knock on the trailer door, and he opens it to find Steve Harrington standing on the porch, hair plastered to his head, clothes soaked. Robin's bike is propped against one of the awning supports. Familiar panic snaps to life in his gut.

"God, Steve, are you okay? Did something happen? That's Robin's bike, where's the Beamer? Is it--is it Vecna? Is--" He's blabbering can't stop, so he shoves his palm against his lips.

"It's not--not Upside Down stuff." He runs a hand through his soggy hair. "Can I come in, man? I--I want to tell you something."

This snaps Eddie out of his panic, and he's moving aside, saying, "Oh my god, get in here, you're soaked. Let me get towels. Do you want a change of clothes, I can--"

Steve catches him by the elbow and he full stops at the look in those big hazel eyes, fearful and sad and he doesn't know what, but his anxiety amps back up.

"I was with Robin and we were--we were talking, you know? And I told her that I like somebody, like really like them, but it was unexpected and--and--it's a guy. He's a guy but I still like girls? Robin said--she said that I'm probably bisexual. That I like guys and girls and--and everyone, I think."

It sends shockwaves through him, and he hopes it doesn't show, doesn't think it shows, but he's having trouble processing. Steve is bi and he likes someone and--Eddie stuffs down the jealousy that claws at him, knows it's more important that he's here for his friend.

"Thank you for telling me, sweetheart." He reaches out, slow in case Steve doesn't want to be hugged, but he launches himself into Eddie's arms.

Eddie holds him tight, heedless of his wet clothes, can feel his shoulders shake, and it tears Eddie's heart in two. All he can do is hold Steve and offer comfort, jealousy be damned.

"You're so brave, honey," he says once the tears taper off.

Steve gives a wet chuckle, face still buried against Eddie's neck. "I don't know about that. I think I got snot in your hair."

"It'll wash out." He laughs. "Is now the time to welcome you to the family? Apparently, we're growing exponentially."

"Does the welcome include a cake or something? I could really use cake."

And God, Steve, is so fucking cute, so sweet, so--everything Eddie has always wanted, and he--it's an accident, or at least, thoughtless--he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. More than one.

Steve pulls back fast, and Eddie lets go immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I--that was stupid. You like someone already, and I--"

His words are cut off as Steve kisses him. Steve kisses him? His brain can't process, but he kisses back. Can't not, not with Steve. Like, he doesn't know anything, head empty, but his body is with the program.

They break apart, he's breathing hard. Steve is beautifully flushed, mouth red and swollen. "You like someone," is what Eddie says.

Steve laughs. "I like you, Munson. Fucking crazy about you."

He smiles, so big it hurts, so big it grows into a delight laugh. "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he says.

---

Six Years Later

They're in bed, Saturday morning, rain pattering softly on the window.

Steve places slow kisses against his naked tummy, makes him tremble, shiver with overstimulation.

"Baby," he whines. "Sweetheart."

Steve smiles up at him, something cold pressing against his ribs, then into his hand.

It's a ring, black metal, shiny and iridescent as he turns it in the light. "What--Steve?"

With one last kiss to his hip bone, Steve sits up, slips the ring onto Eddie's finger. "I'm going to marry you one day, Eddie Munson."

[sp0o0kylights]

12:45 pm on a lazy Saturday, Steve dropped one of the shirts he was folding. With an eye roll at himself at his own clumsiness, he bent down to pick it up and refold it. 

 Of course, just grabbing one shirt wasn’t possible-this was Eddie's room after all, even if Steve had practically moved in. Instead he somehow managed to snag three--and something else, along with them. 

For a second Steve thought it was one of Eddie’s chains, the ones he attached to his belt for reasons Steve was positive had to do with the noise they made and that it gave Eddie something to play with.

Except it was stuck. 

Quickly abandoning the shirts, Steve followed the chain to one end, clothes and random items erupting like miniature volcanoes until he found the end looped around the leg of one dresser. 

Steve blinked.

Turning carefully on his heel, he proceeded to chase the other end of the chain, disrupting more piles until he unearthed a spiral notebook with a small lock attaching the chain to the metal rings. 

Steve gave it a few experimental tugs before he looked at the open bedroom door. 

"Hey Eds!” He called, one hand falling automatically to his hip. “Why do you have a notebook chained to the dresser?"

“What?” Answers him, followed by an immediate; “Oh!” Then; “Hang on!” all of which is punctuated by a series of bangs and shuffles. 

Eddie trots through the door a moment later, eyes narrowing as they land on the notebook in question. 

His face abruptly flushed red as recognition hits, face rearing up and--

oh.

His boyfriend was embarrassed. 

"Is this thee secret D&D planner the kids talk about?" Steve teased playfully, raising the book above his head right as Eddie darted forward to make a grab for it. 

“Steve!” Eddie yelled, launching himself upwards in an effort to grab it.

 Unfortunately for him Steve was prepared, and simply dropped his arm back down and behind his back with a grin. 

“Give it!” 

"Not until you tell me why it’s chained up." Steve replied with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Are monster’s gonna jump out of it?” 

 Eddie cursed, arms reaching and wiggling as he tried to snatch the notebook back.  “

“Oh fuck you-!” He growled, trying to fake-out Steve with a feint. 

Once a jock, always a jock, as Eddie loved to say. Which meant Steve saw right through his boyfriend and simply leaned away, the taller man stumbling into his chest.  

“Dammit!” Eddie howled.

With a laugh, Steve offered the notebook to him, grinning when Eddie snatched it out of his hands and clutched it dramatically to his chest. 

See, he’d kept ahold of the chain, and tugged at it teasingly as a pointed reminder that holding the notebook wouldn’t do Eddie any good. Not with the  lengths he’d taken to securing the thing. 

Eddie glared at the chain for a moment and Steve waited patiently for his boyfriend to realize he’d been out maneuvered--until Ed’s eyes caught his. 

The look he wore wasn’t playful, or even frustrated. 

It was fearful, and even though he tried to hide the emotion a moment later by shaking his hair into his face, Steve dropped the chain immediately. 

“Hey.” He said, humor falling into seriousness with a quickness the Upside Down had drilled into him. “I didn’t open it, I promise.” 

“It’s not--that isn’t--” Eddie clutched the book to his chest tightly with one hand as he reached up to grip his hair hard with the other, a behavior Steve knew instantly meant that he was upset. 

Shit. 

“I’m sorry.” Steve apologized, unsure of where this all went sideways but aware he’d overstepped. 

Eddie shook his head, using the motion to put more hair between his face and Steve. 

“S’not your fault. M’not mad.” He responded, voice small and quiet, the Wayne-like twang he got when he was truly upset coming out. 

Steve’s hands had come up automatically, hovering over Eddie’s shoulders. He didn’t know if touch was wanted just then, and so they stayed frozen in the air. 

Waiting. 

Eddie’s shoulders had hunched, but with a breath that kicked out a section of curly hair, he straightened back up and took a step forward. 

"You can open it." He said, practically throwing the book at Steve. It smacked the younger on the chest, and while Steve peered down at it, he didn't take the bait. 

"Not if you don’t want me to." He replied firmly, refusing to hold the book.  

Secrets had a tendency to make their entire extended group edgy, and with good reason--but people also need their space. 

Steve knew that better than anyone, given that he and Eddie weren’t fully out to the whole group yet. 

That time would come, and along with it would be things like this. Secrets that were shared over time, or boundaries set that a good boyfriend wouldn’t cross. 

If Steve Harrington prided himself on anything, it was being a damn good boyfriend. 

"I want you to. Just--don’t laugh.” Eddie muttered. 

Steve leaned in, reaching up a hand to caress Eddie's arm before pressing a kiss to his forehead, over all the hair. 

“I won’t.” He promised.  

A small, sweet smile bloomed on his boyfriend's face, visible even through the curls. Eddie's body swayed towards Steve, a bird angling for its home, looking to find the shelter it craved.

Steve opened his arms, welcoming, and Eddie stepped right into him, finally moving his hair out of his face. 

"It's okay." He said softly, pushing at the notebook Steve now held.  "Read it, handsome." 

After one last look to assure himself this really was what Eddie wanted, Steve moved so they could both see the book as he went through it. 

He flipped it open to a random page, positive he was about to read Eddie’s journal or even a story he’d been writing.

Or song lyrics. 

Steve winced internally, knowing instantly he’d feel horrible if this was full of Eddie's personal songs. The ones Steve knows aren’t ready to be seen. 

Thankfully, the words lining the page have nothing to do with music at all. 

"Stevie’s favorite things." He read aloud, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. 

Looked at the next page, and found it just as puzzling. 

"What to do when Steve has migraines?" It wasn’t supposed to be a question but Steve asked it like one. 

Turned to face his boyfriend for an answer and is halted by Eddie hiding his face again.

This time, in Steve’s neck. 

"Are these instructions?" He hazarded, trying to make sense of the words laid out before him. 

"They're lists." Eddie responded, voice muffled. 

Steve grinned. "Yeah, I figured that part out.” He teased gently, tilting his head to lean it atop the metalheads. 

Eddie let out an embarrassed whine, but stopped hiding so he could talk. 

“It was Nancy’s suggestion. I was upset I couldn’t remember shit about you. About us. Important shit.” 

Steve stoked his thumb over Eddie’s hip, a soothing gesture for both of them, while he tried to turn the page of the notebook with his other hand.

“She suggested I start making lists.” Eddie continued, reaching out to help Steve. “Write down the stuff I wanted to remember.” 

“You were worried about losing it.” Steve said, suddenly realizing  what the chain was for. 

Eddie tipped his head in a small nod, jostling Steve’s chin. 

“Yeah.” He admitted quietly. “That uh, that was Robin’s idea.”

Steve chuckled at that. “Sounds like Robbie.” 

Quiet descended for a brief moment, as they successfully turned the page. Steve’s eyes took in the writing, this time under the title of ‘Brain Help.”

‘Confuses left and right sometimes, pointing helps.’ 

‘Encourage cooking--Nancy says helps w/ memory.’ 

‘’Don’t point out mispronounced words, he gets upset.’ 

‘Kiss lot’s when frustrated w/ math or spelling, no teasing.’ 

“Are you crying?” Eddie asked suddenly, twisting in Steve’s grasp when the first, choked noise escaped Steve. “Why are you crying?” 

Steve hummed in answer, before carefully setting the notebook down on the bed and wiping at his face with his freed hand. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He said, half choked, smiling at Eddie through his tears. 

Eddie just stared back at him. “I’m amazing for constantly forgetting things?” 

Steve shook his head. 

“You’re amazing for wanting to remember.” He corrected. “I’m so lucky to have you, Eds.” 

Turned fully, to envelope Eddie in a crushing hug. 

“I think it’s the other way around but,” Eddie smiled, a soft private thing meant only for Steve, “just this once I’ll agree  

Steve snorted, a wet ugly sound, gripping his boyfriend harder. 

“Asshole.” He grumbled fondly, before he pulled him into a deep kiss. 

(A handful of minutes later and both are startled out of their impromptu makeout session by Wayne, who spoke so loudly he might as well have been shouting.

 “I realize their cars are in the driveway, Dustin, but I’m sorry ta’ tell ya I dunno where they went. Why don’ you n’ your buddy there go visit Max? Ya’ll can come back in a few minutes.”

“Fucking kids.” Steve muttered angrily into Eddie’s lips, prompting the other to cackle. 

“Hey you had them first man. I’m just their step-dad.” He teased, and nearly gave the both of them away with a shriek when Steve pinched him.

“Nice try Munson.” Steve responded with a low growl in Eddie’s ear. “They’re just as much your kids as they are mine.”

“If you say so, oh’ wife of mine.” 

And if that little nickname prompted another heated makeout session, then that was between them and God as far as Steve was concerned.) 

***I base all of my Eddie has ADHD ficlets on my own behaviors but this time I also gave Steve a traumatic brain injury as well. Cause I am 99.9% sure that boy has one, and as someone with a TBI from a kinda sorta similar car crash alongside having more than my fair share of concussions and various injuries, the migraines are like ⅓ of the worst things about ‘em. Thankfully I have never got into a fight or gone toe to toe with supernatural creatures, but I have been lawn darted a few times by my baby horse so I figure Steve and I are even on that front lmao

[estrellami-1]

Quite Miss Home

Had an idea. Wrote 2.3k words in a couple of hours. Pure fluff based on the James Arthur song. ❤️

“Helloooooo, Chicago!” Eddie yells into the mic, reveling in the roar he gets back from the audience.

It’s been ten years since it all; since the end of the world as he knew it and the beginning of something so much better. Corroded Coffin had taken off quickly, after the “earthquakes;” something about rising from the ashes like a phoenix, if Eddie had to guess, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, just enjoy what he’s given, and damn is he enjoying it.

“How are you?” He asks, grinning when the audience cheers again. “Alright, alright. Man, I’ll tell you, it’s fuckin’ awesome being here. But can I tell you a secret?” The audience roars again, and he grins as he takes his guitar off, hoisting it up. “Who’s this?”

“Sweetheart!” The crowd yells back.

“That’s right!” He quietly thanks the stagehand who darts up to grab it from him. “But it’s not my only sweetheart. In fact, my real sweetheart is at home. And this tour is so awesome, but I’m kinda starting to miss my sweetheart.”

“Aww,” the crowd says, and he grins softly at them.

“I know,” he says. “This next song is for my sweetheart. They’re at home because they get migraines, and tours aren’t very conducive to not getting migraines, so we both decided it would be better if they stayed home. So this next song isn’t Corroded Coffin’s normal sound. In fact-” he gestures at the stage behind him- “if you’ll notice, the rest of the boys aren’t up here anymore. This is an Eddie Munson original, and I want to thank them, from the bottom of my heart, for letting me be the dramatic sap I am, and letting me sing this song, on national television, for my sweetheart.” The stagehand comes up again, this time with an acoustic, and again Eddie thanks him. “So, sweetheart,” he says, facing the cameras, “this one’s for you.”

“I'm in the kitchen while you smoke outside. You're careful not to let the smoke inside. I always tell you it's poison, but I know it helps you take the edge off the day.”

Eddie knows exactly where Steve’s gonna be when he gets home from where he works part-time as a bartender. In through the front door, dropping his keys on the kitchen counter, straight through to the porch where Steve’s smoking.

“Y’know those things are poison,” he jokes, stealing it straight from Steve’s mouth and taking a drag before giving it back to him.

“I never want kids,” Steve says in answer. He’s a kindergarten teacher, so he comes home in one of two moods: he has the worst baby fever, or he never wants to see another child again.

“Yeah? What happened today?” Eddie asks, settling in close. He’s hungry, and was vaguely considering a stir fry, but instead he tucks in close as Steve takes another drag, preparing himself.

“Okay, so get this.”

“We get a drink before it's closing time, the one on High Street with the blinking sign. All these memories feel poignant. I won't be there to see the snow melt away.”

“Hey,” Eddie says, seeing someone settle at the bar in his periphery. “What can I get you?”

Then he actually turns to face the person, and-

Oh.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” Steve grins, leaning over the counter. “And maybe… something else? A little later?”

A thrill of heat rushes through Eddie, but he rolls his eyes with a grin and pushes Steve back by a palm to his forehead. “Keep it in your pants,” he admonishes, “I’m on the clock for the next four hours. Someone didn’t tell me they were gonna drop in, and I took my break twenty minutes ago.”

Steve hums. “Y’know, a dull knife could be very dangerous,” he says. “I certainly hope the one you’re using to cut limes is sharp.”

Oh.

Eddie grins, always on board, and leans over the counter. “Steve Harrington,” he purrs, delighting in the flush racing up his cheeks and down his neck. “What exactly are you insinuating?”

Steve sits there for a beat, drains his whiskey, and hops off the stool with a dangerous smirk. “Careful on your way out. It started snowing.”

“Oh, yeah, I been gone on business. I gotta make some money. I really feel the distance.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” Steve murmurs, clinging to Eddie like a koala. They’re still in bed, and Eddie doesn’t have to leave for another five hours. He’s gonna spend all the time he can in bed with Steve.

“I know, baby,” Eddie whispers back. “Tours are so long.”

“A month,” Steve agrees. “And then another three, after Indy.”

“But just think,” Eddie murmurs. “You’re still working, right? And those kids love you, and no matter what you say, I know you love them. And this tour is gonna be really good for us. We could get Wayne into a house, and help Hop with his payments-”

“He won’t accept the help.”

“No, but Joyce will,” Eddie grins. Steve laughs softly into his chest, then sighs and kisses a tattoo.

“I just wish I could be with you. I wish my head worked right.”

“Baby,” Eddie says firmly, “I love you. Regardless of if you can or can’t come with me. If you’re gonna be miserable the entire time—and we both know you would be, don’t even try to deny it—I’d be miserable, too.”

“I know,” Steve sighs.

“But hey. We’ve got time right now. And I’m not letting you move from this very spot until I’m gonna be late.”

Steve chuckles. “I’ll drag you out myself, Eds, much as I don’t want it I know you need to go.”

“I know,” Eddie says softly, turning so they’re both on their sides, facing each other. “But I don’t have to go right now. And I’m gonna spend as much time as I can right now with you.”

“I know.”

“No, baby,” Eddie says, eyes wide, “you don’t get it. I won’t even let you pee alone today.”

“So just like normal, then,” Steve grins.

Eddie squawks.

“And I quite miss home. And I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor, and the dirt drives you crazy. Yeah, I quite miss home, 'cause it feels like poetry. When the rain falls down on the window while you're in my arms, and we're watching the TV. Yeah, I quite miss home. Yeah, I quite miss home.”

“Hey, Eds,” Steve calls as soon as Eddie steps foot inside. “Shoes off at the door, I just swept and I swear to God, if you track dirt into the house-”

Eddie chuckles, toeing his shoes off before walking further into the house. “I know, baby, it wreaks havoc on your bare feet to feel it. I get a free pass from that ‘cause I wear socks like a normal person.”

“Literally when have you ever been normal,” Steve says, “that’s not normal, you and your fuckin’ ice cube toes in the middle of the goddamn night on my calves-”

Eddie snickers. “‘S not my fault you’re a furnace, babe.”

“I will maintain that it is your fault until we can prove otherwise, actually.”

Eddie is in love with this man. “What the fuck does that mean?” He asks, laughing, wandering down the hallway and into their room, where Steve’s folding laundry. “Fuck, I love you.”

Steve grins and accepts a kiss. “I love you too.”

“I smell you cooking from the living room, and then I tell you that I love your food. I know it doesn't come easy, but you know it reminds me where I'm from.”

“Baby,” Eddie groans when he walks in. “Are you making the pork?”

“I’m trying,” Steve grumbles, frowning at the pan. “‘S not working. It’s not getting crispy like it should.”

Eddie walks closer, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and nuzzling the side of his head. “Looks amazing,” he murmurs. “And smells even better.”

Steve sighs. “I just wish it was easier for me.”

“You don’t have to do this, baby.”

“But I know you love it.”

“I mean, yeah. But I love anything you cook, Steve. Or anything you call in. It’s the effort, y’know? Even when you don’t have the energy for anything but calling in pizza.”

Steve smiles. “You’re a sap, y’know that?”

Eddie chuckles, kissing Steve’s neck. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been down bad for you for a while, baby.”

“Yeah?” Steve tilts his head to allow Eddie better access. “How long?”

Eddie hums, moving down Steve’s neck, worrying his collarbone. “Probably since the demobat, Big Boy.”

Steve moans as Eddie sucks a mark high on his neck, just beneath his ear. “Yeah?” He asks, high and breathy.

Eddie turns the heat off. “Yeah.” A little bite to Steve’s earlobe as his hand creeps around to the front of Steve’s jeans. “Lemme show you?”

Steve pants. “Dinner-”

“Can wait,” Eddie growls. “I want you tonight, baby.”

“Whoa, I'm in another city. I got nobody with me. And it just really hit me.”

“Hey, baby,” someone croons. Eddie thinks he recognizes her from the last stop on the tour.

“Um… hi?”

She giggles. “So coy. You don’t have to play like that with me, baby.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “I’m not your baby.”

“Well, no,” she admits. “But you could be. Or I could be yours, if you’re more into being a Daddy.” She runs teasing fingers up Eddie’s arm.

He jerks his arm away. “Look, I’m sure you’re nice and all, but I’m really not looking-”

“Not yet you’re not,” she says.

“I don’t even know what that means- look, lady, I don’t want anything, okay?”

“Oh, come on, now-”

“I said no,” he says, harsher than he maybe should have, for the way she steps backs in shock. “Please leave,” he continues, gentler. “Or I’ll call security. And I don’t want to have to do that.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “You could’ve had a great lay.”

“I have a great lay,” he shoots back. “And I’m not willing to sacrifice it for a meaningless one-night-stand.” He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sure you’re a great lady. But I’ve got my other half at home.”

“Your other half?” Steve interrupts over the phone, delight evident in his voice. “Christ, Eds, you’re a sap, I miss you so fuckin’ much.”

“I know, baby, I miss you too, now I was in the middle of a story.”

“That I quite miss home, and I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor, and the dirt drives you crazy. Yeah, I quite miss home, 'cause it feels like poetry when the rain falls down on the window, while you're in my arms, and we're watching the TV.”

“Baby,” Eddie yells inside, “It’s raining lynxes and wolves!”

Steve laughs from the laundry room. “Why can’t you just say cats and dogs?”

“Because,” he stresses, “it’s not. It’s raining so hard, babe, it’s perfect couch-cuddling weather, can we watch a movie? Please?”

Steve smiles. “Dinner’s in the oven keeping warm. Labyrinth is in the player already.”

Eddie stills, staring at Steve, for a solid thirty seconds. “Fuck, I love you,” he murmurs. Steve grins and steals a kiss.

“Go get the food,” he says. “I’ll be there in just a minute, just gotta finishing moving this stuff from the washer to the dryer.”

He does, and Steve does, and soon the dirty dishes are abandoned on the coffee table and their feet are tucked up on the couch. Steve’s leaning on Eddie and Eddie’s hand is under his shirt, not for anything suggestive, simply just to feel.

He kisses Steve’s head with a content sigh, and Steve tilts his head back to look at him. “What’s up?”

“Y’know this is one of the things I miss the most when I’m touring?”

Steve smiles. “Just sitting watching a movie?”

“Well, anything with you, actually. But yeah. No expectations, just the movie, and the rain, and just. Us.”

Steve smiles and kisses his jaw. “This is one of the things I miss most when you’re on tour, too.”

“Yeah, I quite miss home. Yeah, I quite miss home. And I quite miss home. Yeah, I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor and the dirt drives you crazy. Oh, I just miss home, no, no, 'cause it feels like poetry, as the rain falls down on the window while you're in my arms and we're watching the TV. Oh, I miss home, yeah, I quite miss home, no. Oh, I quite miss home. Yeah, yeah, I quite miss home.”

The last strum reverberates through the silent auditorium. Then, an anguished groan. “What the fuck, why are you perfect?”

Eddie laughs along with the rest of the crowd. “That’s quite the compliment, but no, my sweetheart will be the first to tell you I’m anything but perfect.”

Three and a half weeks later, Steve slams into him as he’s walking into the house. “Oh,” he says, delighted. “Hi, baby.”

“Fuck you,” Steve says, “fuck you and your song, I swear to God, Eds-” he tugs on Eddie’s shirt, pulling him away from the door, and Eddie chuckles.

“Baby, my shoes, the floors-”

“Fuck your shoes,” Steve growls. “Fuck the floors. If I’m not naked in bed in the next thirty seconds-”

Eddie grins and picks him up. “Say no more,” he murmurs into Steve’s ear, taking purposeful strides toward the bedroom.

As he kicks the door shut, he has one thought: This is my favorite part of coming home.

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Also tagging @finntheehumaneater and @gloomysoup because I figure you might like it ❤️

[steviewashere]

My Kingdom For a Kiss Upon His Shoulder

Rating: General CW: None for this one! Tags: Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Steve Harrington Loves to Bake, They are In Love Your Honor, Bartender Eddie Munson

For @steddie-week | July 4th Prompt: Trade | WC: 661

Title from Jeff Buckley's "Lover, You Should've Come Over", but tweaked it to make it gay.

🍪—————🍪 “Trade?” He asked, holding out a freshly baked cookie. It was a new hobby Steve had picked up and Eddie adored it. Not only did it put him in a cute, pastel blue, short apron; but it also made him produce baked goods from thin air all the time. He took up on baking as a means to put negative thoughts and energy at bay. It suited him. Made him especially domestic; especially sweet.

Eddie hummed at the offered cookie. “I don’t have anything to give back,” he pointed out. Gestured with his empty hands to hammer the point.

Steve came to him then. Shuffling over the kitchen tiles—they were cracked and probably needed a good wash, but they were home, oddly enough. They lived in their own apartment now, so coming home to Steve baking, to him humming a song in that sweet, crackling, raspy way he does, and to him exhausted and soft on their dilapidating, thrifted sofa—it was all like coming home. Because it was home, Eddie supposes. And it was warm, warmer when Steve finally met him in the kitchen’s doorway.

“How ‘bout a kiss?” Steve asked, soft, drenching. The way his cookies are when paired with a tall glass of milk.

He smirked gently. His insides were like raw honey. Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever been treated so…considerately. Doesn’t think he’s ever been wanted in this tender, small way before. “Mmm, okay,” Eddie murmured, “gotta warn you, though. The manager let me eat a couple baskets of garlic fries.”

Steve was close, not enough to touch noses, but enough for his warmth to hit Eddie like a stray ember. He’s ready to be engulfed, but he waits. Fires don’t start without effort.

“You have a little bit of beer?” Steve whispered. His breath smelt like chocolate chunks and coffee.

“Half of a banquet. Manager’s giving me a raise, had to celebrate,” Eddie responded just as softly.

Then, no warning needed, Steve leaned in. Closed the gap. A quick peck, nothing more. But Eddie licked his own lips when they pulled apart. Whatever spit had slicked Steve’s lips tasted just as his mouth smelled—sweet milk chocolate, their dark brew instant coffee, and mint chocolate chip ice cream; something to fill a craving while he waited for his cookies to bake, Eddie could guess.

The cookie was placed in Eddie’s left palm, fingers forced to wrap around the golden, crispy edge. Crumbs litter the webbing between his fingers, but if he plays his cards right, maybe Steve’ll clean that up for him. “Made them the way you like,” Steve spoke softly, “brown butter with chocolate chunks instead of chips. Eat it and soak up the bit of alcohol, okay?”

“Don’t have to tell me twice, sweetheart. Promise me something, though?”

Steve’s hand closed around Eddie’s and the cookie. He hummed imploringly. Eyes relaxed, a shimmer to them, a sheen of indulgence to him.

Eddie swayed close. Nose to nose. Kissed Steve just because.

“Promise you’ll let me trade a kiss to have you tonight?”

His nose was rubbed against by Steve’s. Their foreheads accidentally knocked together, not hard enough to cause concern, something closer to a cat’s love-tap. Now that he was closer, Eddie could smell his floral, professional shampoo and his new bergamot body soap and the peach cleanser he used on his face. An arm slung itself around his waist, drawing him in closer. Finally, the fire was engulfing him. Eddie sweated with anticipation as he laid his own arm across Steve’s shoulders.

“You already have me, Eds.”

“Good,” Eddie whispered, “because I’ve been wanting you all day. Want you all the time.”

Steve hummed at that. Sweet, raspy, low, crooning. He gently swayed them side to side as if there was music, but it was only their breath, only the thrum of their refrigerator. And that was enough to persuade Eddie to trade another kiss for a lifetime of Steve’s love.

🍪—————🍪

[steddieunderdogfics]

Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!! by wynnyfryd

@wynnyfryd

Rating: Explicit

5,876 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Moving In Together, Sex Tapes, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Edgeplay, Dom Eddie Munson, Mean Dom Eddie Munson, (very mild but just a smidge), Sub Steve Harrington, Dom/sub, Subspace, Porn with Feelings, the softest squishiest feelings, the boys make a porno but they're very sweet about it, Boys In Love1990s, Future Fic, is it a future fic if it's still in the past? whatever

Summary:

“I have come, Sir Steven, to present you… with a very special film.” He pulls his hands from behind his back with a flourish. It’s a VHS in a plain white case, the words Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!! scribbled in sharpie on the front cover in Eddie’s spiky script. Holy shit. Steve can’t believe this thing survived. “Jesus,” he snorts, tracing the title with his pointer finger. Eddie would name their sex tape something totally insane. “Satanic ritual. It’s like you were trying to provoke the pitchfork people.” “I’m sorry, would you have preferred if I wrote, like, ‘super horny homosexual hour’ on the cover instead?” “Yes.” Steve deadpans. “Yes, I would.” — Chicago 1994: Steve and Eddie move in together, then they watch a film.

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @wynnyfryd. Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

[hitlikehammers]

safe under you

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar husbands, writing vows, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day nineteen: Love is the comfort of quiet moments  (@tboygareth)

the rockstar husbands are back on their soft-sleepy-romantic bullshit idk ♥️ maybe I'll get around to writing the ACTUAL VOWS next time

“You’re so quiet.”

Which meant Eddie should have heard his husband approaching but: as it stands he really, really didn’t, and he jumps hard when Steve whispers from behind his shoulder over the back of the couch.

Steve laughs at the glare Eddie shoots him—a half-hearted one at best but there—as he reaches to start rubbing at the crook of his neck, up and down on either side and the glaring goes away instantly because: Steve Harrington?

Has magical hands.

“Whatcha doing?” he murmurs close to Eddie’s ear and Eddie hums a little as he gathers himself from going immediately-boneless under Steve’s touch, the kneading of his palm against Eddie’s strained muscles because he’s been down here…not too long, he doesn’t think. They’d gone to bed together at normal time, and he’d fallen asleep, too; he’d just been restless when he woke up, and knew it was the kind of thing he wouldn’t get more rest out of unless he did something about it, so he’d kissed Steve’s head and rolled out of bed, regretful for it but hopeful, too, that if he gave in to the nagging at the back of his head, he’d quiet it enough to be able to slip back in next to his beloved, and lean against the mattress just so, so that Steve’s arms could curl around him as they always did: soft and sweet and waiting to hold him.

Eddie just hasn’t…managed to get there, yet.

“Writing,” Eddie sighs, and then whines a little as Steve’s hands leave their place on his shoulders, and he turns to look because where’s Steve going, Steve shouldn’t go anywhere, Steve should stay right—

Here.

And look at that: Steve’s plopping himself down on the sofa next to Eddie, a little too far but then he’s scooting further, and Eddie opens his mouth to protest but then Steve’s dropping down, draping his body over Eddie’s lap and laying against him, looking up at him with still-half-sleepy eyes and just…

He’s just so fucking beautiful, y’know?

“You’re never quiet when you’re writing,” Steve says, head tilted up, eyes closed as he leans back against the armrest where Eddie’s got his notebook, his face so soft. His mouth so soft—

“Campaign, you mumble to yourself,” Steve continues on, his voice syrupy, still only half-committed to waking; “lyrics, you hum if you don’t have a guitar,” and then he reaches down toward Eddie’s knee and taps rhythmic there:

“And you drum your fingers,” and Steve smiles as his fingers dance for a few languid moments before he eases his lashes open and meets Eddie’s gaze, because Eddie’s gaze has been on his since he settled in his lap.

Because: duh.

“Looks like it’s hard, too,” Steve sucks his lower lip between his teeth, face still soft but mouth quirked just a little downward, still a little dream-soaked and Eddie love that part, but: never the downturn of that mouth.

“Hmm?” Eddie rumbles low so Steve’ll maybe feel it a little where he’s pressed; the little hazy giggle Steve lets out as he nuzzles into Eddie’s middle just that tiny bit: he felt.

Eddie likes to think he’s never been so in love, but he doesn’t…he doesn’t believe he’s ever not loved Steve with all of his everything.

He’s just wholly convinced that his everything grows with ever moment beside this man, every heartbeat lived together: it stretches him wider, broader every day for the singular purpose of holding the all of his love ever-bigger.

“Whatever you’re working on,” Steve murmurs, just short of sleep-slurred; “you’ve got this,” and he reaches, bats a little around Eddie’s face before he lands between his eyebrows and smooths the skin there which, okay, fine, had been all wrinkled-up.

“Means you’re concentrating too hard,” Steve comments sagely, patting Eddie’s cheek a little blind as he settles wholly back in Eddie’s lap.

“This happens to be very important,” Eddie counters with a tiny flick to Steve’s ear, which is met with a little squeak that warms his insides so delicate, so thorough and full.

“Doubtful,” Steve manages to scoff, like he’s tipping closer to wakefulness but not there yet; “not important enough to make you,” and Steve’s the one flicking now, light at Eddie’s forearm in emphasis:

“Quiet and frowny.”

He’s so…he’s fucking edible he’s so adorable, that’s what he is—Jesus.

“Not frowny,” Eddie lets a little at Steve’s hair, all tousled from the bed; “invested.”

Steve purses his lips and tries—fails, but tries—to peek at the notebook on level with his temple.

“What’s got you so invested, then?” he finally gives up trying to turn and read where Eddie’s hasn’t even bothered trying to hide, not least because there is nothing there, and just asks. And Eddie could dodge it. Steve would respect it if he did.

But he…he doesn’t. Generally speaking he doesn’t hide anything from Steve. Big or small. Their life is a shared thing from top to bottom and Eddie loves that about them so fucking fierce, so. He just sighs and admit it.

“My vows.”

Because that’s what’s been keeping him up, that’s what drove him out of the soft joy of their bed, that’s what amounted to scribbles and cross-outs alone on the page in front of him and it should be this hard, Eddie’s a decent enough lyricist, not to mention most of his songs all this time are for, or inspired by, or just about, generally, all-encompassingly: Steve. It’s always Steve.

Which makes it that much more unbearable that he can’t seem to fucking write his goddamn vows.

Then, though, just then; the most unexpected thing happens. Or starts.

Steve starts shaking against him and there a half-second he’s worried—does it hurt his sweetheart, that he can’t get the words down, does it make him sad, is he cryi—

No.

No: it only takes half-a-second for the anxiety to fade and the sound to register alongside the trembling: Beautiful. Radiant. Still wholly unexpected.

Steve’s laughing.

“That’s silly,” Steve finally tells him, looking up at him with genuine north in his eyes and yes, he’s still a little sleepy-drunk, but the feeling is wholly present and…

Eddie isn’t sure what to do with it—wants to just wrap himself inside it and savor but: his vows…laughable?

Silly?

“What?”

“You’ve already made your vows,” Steve grins up at him, all brightness; “like, three times,” and, okay.

Okay, that’s not exactly wrong, though he could probably try to argue that it was more three proposals’ worth of vows, and are those actually vows, if it’s just a proposal—

“Proposals fucking count,” Steve waves his wrist definitively and…Eddie isn’t sure if he said any of that out loud?

Then: probably wouldn’t make a difference either way. They know each other.

“The first one was legitimately with the twisty-tie from a loaf of Home Pride,” Eddie points out because: because that…that’s probably not as important—

“Mmhmm,” Steve hums, and lifts his left hand: there’s a simple ring on his left hand, pricey for their budget when they’d gathered their family and committed to always in front of them under a temperate Indiana summer’s sky, bonfire and barbecue lively in the background: but that ring wasn’t smooth; it had a long-worn-bare stick of metal wrapped around it and soldered, one that used to be covered in bright paper to stick out against a plastic bread bag:

“I remember well,” and Steve sounds so soft, so blissfully taken in by the memory of that first time Eddie had proposed and, fuck.

Fuck, the butterflies never go away, do they? That effervescent joy stays fresh and vivacious forever.

Thank fuck; he wants no less of this; for them. The love they have deserves no less.

“Still want to melt down the Ring Pop,” Steve says as he plays with his ring; “make it match,” and that’d been the second time: Steve had bought Eddie a ring at a ren faire, and Eddie’d been beside himself to reciprocate, immediately, because Steve deserved no less, and that was how the bum-end of a long-licked Ring Pop came to live eternally on Steve’s keys.

To be eyed for melting into a full-hoop shape for years, now, but Eddie kinda thinks it’s loved and treasured plenty, just as it already is.

“I love you so fucking much,” Steve tells him, apropos of nothing, and that’s…that’s kind of exactly how they work, yeah. They just love.

So fucking much.

Eddie’s pulse kinda skips with it, bounces like pigtails hopscotching along, all unbridled glee. He draws Steve hand to his lips, kisses his knuckles.

“Aren’t you,” Eddie swallows as he lifts his blank notebook and shakes it around a little: “aren’t you stressing over them?”

Because it doesn’t sound like he is, and that’s…sure, they’ve done this before, if not with a license in hand like they will this time. But Steve’s always been more prone to worry over stuff like this. So while Eddie doesn’t want the man he loves to be anxious, he is…kinda wondering, is all.

“Not writing any,” Steve shrugs and lets the motion turn him a little against Eddie’s lap, to look up more straight-on.

“You know I’m not great with words,” Steve tells him simply; “like, planning them out, I’ll fuck it up in the moment and then I’ll just be more flustered.”

And, yeah: okay. That’s a fair point.

Then there’s a hand slipping up his jaw, and crawling his cheek, and turning him down to look at Steve closer:

“Figured I can just look at you, and I’ll,” Steve’s pupils get bigger as he exhales, as he takes in Eddie’s face and beams at him, strokes his cheekbone with his thumb.

“The most important things are always right there,” Steve breathes warm: “so I’ll just say what’s already waiting.”

And shit. The man says he’s bad at words.

“You’re the light of life, Steve Harrington,” Eddie whispers, contorting himself to lean and Steve sees, arches up to press their lips as Eddie mouths against him: “the song in my soul,” and fuck: he means it so many times over he could never count it, could never pin a number to it. It’s too vast.

“See, look at you,” Steve taps his cheek playfully, but so soaked up with love; “you’ve already got all your words, so,” and then he lets his hand slide off Eddie’ face, and he sits up just to grab at Eddie’s legs, swing them up onto the couch and settles himself between them, tugging Eddie from the calves further down until he’s propping himself up by his palms.

“C’mon,” Steve coaxes, and uses his back to ease Eddie down and: oh. Oh, he wants them laid out on the cushions.

And well: Eddie could, would, will only ever oblige, if the question is do you want to lay down with your husband thrice-almost-four-times-over?

Because again: duh. If they were really in the market for silly ideas.

Steve sighs so happily, so airy and bright even as Eddie reaches to flick the light off, and wraps his arms to rest around Steve, sure and close where he holds him to his chest, folds him in where he already nuzzles deeper and:

It’s how safe my heart feels under the weight of your head.

Well, fuck him.

Maybe he does know his vows already.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

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