#steddie fic wip

[wheatnoodle]

i love you, evangeline.

part1

-

robin’s been staring at it all night.

eddie munson. their third of a trio bestie they haven’t seen in years. eddie munson is asking about a girl he thinks he doesn’t know. she hasn’t said a word to evie, doesn’t even know how. that’s not something you can just drop into conversation.

“hey that guy you were like gay in love with but never told just asked if you’re single but doesn’t know you’re you, goodnight!” NO!!

so she lays in her full size bed (literally feels like she has so much room compared to her twin bed back in hawkins), contemplating what the good lord above would want her to do. it’s just gone one in the morning when she makes her decision.

robinabucks: hey eds :)) so here’s the thing

robinabucks: yes, she’s single. but,,,i would prefer it if u didn’t reach out to her or anything

robinabucks: ima be honest, idk if she’s ur type n i don’t want her to get excited

seen pops up under her final message only two seconds after it’s sent and she’s slamming her phone down on her mattress.

eddieisdead: robbie!! hey!! :D

eddieisdead: i get what u mean :/ but i also know my type better than u do

eddieisdead: just seeing as like. im me LOL

eddieisdead: gimme a CHANCE bro ill worship the fuckin ground she walks on i swear😭😭

robin can’t stop the little smile quirking the corners of her lips. her evie has been through too much to be treated like anything less than a queen. she knows eddie’s a good guy. but it’s his possible feelings on evie’s…history…that has her placing herself between the two. she knows he’s not homophobic, he tries to set her up with every lesbian he meets, plus he likes kissing boys himself. but they’ve never had the transgender talk. never had the “is a trans woman a woman to you?” talk that has robin building walls before there’s a chance to think of breaking them down.

robinabucks: eddie im serious

robinabucks: i genuinely don’t know if she’s ur type and it could go bad

robinabucks: like bad bad

eddieisdead: so can everything else

robinabucks: eddie

eddieisdead: robin

eddieisdead: i will do the best i can to not hurt her, sergeant🫡

she starts typing a response but watches as his status changes to offline.

dammit munson.

[someforeignband]

this is the wlw steddie anon!! i am mega excited to hear of your projects <33 wishing you well and may the spirit of wlw steddie grace your creative endeavors

for you, anon, here’s a snippet from 1/2 wlw steddie pieces “Touch Me, Baby (Put Your Lips On Mine)” - i haven’t talked about it at all on here i don’t think but i figured maybe you’d like a little something!

sorority girl stevie x bartender, weed dealer eddie… eddie is a useless lesbian, stevie has great tits, chaos ensues - you get the picture

[little-annie]

All I Want | Ch8

Steddie | Little_Annie | Ao3

Ch.7 ⤵️

---

Eddie's POV

There's skin on his, soft, warm, a palm on his cheek and heat searing into his flesh.

It feels like sunshine.

-

The sun's bright. Golden. Rays of liquid honey streaming through the dust of the air.

There's weight in his lap. Steady. Rocking. Grinding. His body sings with a warmth of euphoria and need, a flicker of fire in his veins and roll of ecstasy through his bones.

Breath beats like a symphony in his ear, rough, raspy. Beautiful. Akin to an orchestra by the stars. It sings so sweet and settles in his soul.

The air's bright with light when lips meet his own. Gasps falling on his tongue and breath flooding his lungs, he can feel the cling of a hand in his hair and nails on the skin of his back. Scraping, scratching, branding like a scar to his very being.

The moment's passionate, intimate. So much so that his nerves pulse with a flutter and a heat that rolls through his veins, settling like butterflies to the rear of his lungs. A flutter that feels like wings, from the very beings that spread beauty through the world. Bringing life to flowers, bright and beautiful with the help of the sun.

A nose brushing his own when lips part for a breath, there's a palm to his cheek, soft, warm, heat searing into flesh. There's words whispered into the heat of the air between them, "You're my everything, Eds."

It feels like something else, like three words left unspoken but known to be true. Three words left to settle along with that flutter in his chest.

The light's bright, gold and glowing, speckled like the stars in the sky when he pulls back and tries to get a glimpse of the man in front of him.

-

A shiver runs down his spine and there's a flash of white in his eyes before everything fades back to reality.

He's still there. Sat on the hood of Steve Harrington's BMW with the man's hand on his cheek and the sting of a cut on his brow.

The first thing he sees is the honey of Steve's eyes and the golden glow of his speckled skin.

There's an ache in his chest, a pull in his gut and an all encompassing want. It's painful. Dreadful and riddled with a piercing sense of longing. It's unbearable.

Burning like a brand on his cheek remains Steve's hand. Hot and searing. Iron melting flesh. The need that accompanies the action is too much.

Eddie grits his teeth and turns away.

It's too much.

It's too much even as Steve whispers his apologies, takes a step back and leaves Eddie with the urge to follow. To reach his hands out and pull Steve Harrington into his chest with a crash.

A crash that would without a doubt shatter Eddie. Pulling Steve's body into his fragile bones and pushing them to splinter with the force behind it.

It's inevitable that he'd come out of it broken. Shattered to pieces of rubble and debris. Turned to nothing but a pile of wreckage.

But he wants to reach out and risk the devastation. Take the chance, the absurd, miniscule possibility that things wouldn't burst into flames upon impact. That maybe they'd flourish. That maybe they'd burst into love and light and sunshine and give way for a beauty so rare that few find it.

But he can't.

So he doesn't.

Instead he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut until they hurt. Until all he can see are the flashes of stars against a dark shy. The vast blackness behind his eyelids shielding him from the absurdity of finding sunshine in one Steve Harrington.

Because that's all it is.

Absurd.

It's a thought that should have never had the grace to enter Eddie's mind and make a home in the cracks and crevices of his being. A thought that should have been eradicated upon first notice.

Because his want of Steve Harrington is absurd.

It's ridiculous.

It's laughable.

It's insane that even for a moment Eddie entertains it.

Because he shouldn't.

He fucking can't.

—

Steve's POV

They stand there in silence for a while. The rustle of the leaves and the quiet rasp of Eddie's breath the only sound to be heard. Steve still stings with the need and want to reach out and feel Eddie beneath his fingertips, to feel the warmth of pale skin and the scratch of stubble under his palm. But he resists.

Eddie keeps his eyes trained to the side as he whispers a 'thanks' and finds a bandaid to press to his own skin, stretching it over his brow and another over his cheek.

Against all instinct, Steve gives the man his space. Not giving into the deep seeded need to inspect Eddie's entire body for any unseen damage. He's sure it's there, it's blatantly obvious by the wince the man lets go as he slips from the car's hood to settle his feet on the ground. It's a hardly concealed thing when Eddie's knee buckles and he catches himself with a hand on the car.

Steve wants nothing more than to reach out and hold him.

But he can't.

He can't, so he distracts himself by putting the first aid kit back in the car, taking the time to suck in a grounding breath and count to three maybe a few more times than necessary.

It's only when he hears Eddie's voice that he's able to steel himself and move back to the front of the car, "I'm- uh, I'm gonna head back in… T-thanks again, for, you know, patching me up." He gestures with a ring clad hand to his face with a tight lipped smile and hunched anxious shoulders.

Looking at the man and the obvious exhaustion that's settled deep into his bones, Steve can't help but think that Eddie should go home. He should go home and lay in bed and let Steve take care of him. Let him hold an ice pack to his sore knee and let him kiss every bump, every bruise, every impending scar.

Steve shuffles uncomfortably, trying to meet Eddie's eye as he asks, "You sure you don't just wanna go home? I- I can drive you."

It's a dangerous thing to ask, mostly for the fact that Steve knows it'd hurt like hell to leave. To drive away and know Eddie's in the trailer alone, tending to his wounds without someone by his side.

Eddie shakes his head and Steve watches as a mask of nonchalance slips over his face. Once scared eyes shift to something indecipherable and finally meet Steve's, Eddie speaks, tone level and teasing, "I'll be fine Harrington. Plus, I wouldn't want to disappoint those kids of yours, now would I?"

There's something like a smirk teasing Eddie's broken lip when he turns around and heads for the school not bothering to wait for a response. Trying to disguise a limp and his anxiety that's so blatantly obvious to Steve, Eddie walks away, never once chancing a look back to the man following close behind.

Back inside, walking through the doors of the drama room, it falls silent. The chatter stops and the kids twist their heads around to look while Gareth stands with worry in his eyes as he takes in what he now knows to be an injured man before him, "Ed, man, you alright?"

Eddie continues into the room with a self-deprecating laugh, "I'll be fine Garbear. Just those fuckin' Bible Thumpin' Jocks again."

It's just an act, the humour, the carelessness, the way Eddie plasters on a smile like he hadn't just gotten the shit kicked out of him less than an hour ago. Steve wonders if anyone else notices. Notices the slightly too wide smile, the scared eyes, the way that fake grin slips the second Eddie's lips are out of sight. Notices the poorly constructed mask Eddie's been known to hide himself behind.

Gareth probably does. He's always been attentive like that and by the look of concern still creasing the man's face, Steve's sure he does.

Steve tries to not think too much about it as he settles in for the evening. Falling into the chair where he sat no less than a couple months ago, tucked away in the corner. He takes in his surroundings, the familiarity of it all. He thinks back to the first time he sat in this chair, how he was just as sceptical as anyone else, there purely for the fact to keep an eye on his kids.

He never expected to fall in love. Especially not with Eddie Munson of all people.

But he did.

He did and now he sits here watching Eddie introduce himself to the kids as if it's the first time, a genuine smile and bright eyes as he welcomes them to Hellfire with a flourish.

Gareth and the guys pretend to do the same, shaking Dustin's, Mike's and Lucas' hands, sharing smiles of their own.

Steve's thankful for them.

They weren't part of the fray lost to the vastness of Eddie's mind, but they were more than willing to help Steve and the kids reenter the man's life.

He'd grown fond of them in the last year and was glad to have them as support along the way for whatever was to come next.

Next being the very real possibility that things may never be the same as they were a couple months ago.

Next being the very real possibility that Eddie may never fully recover.

That Eddie, for all Steve knows, may never love him again.

Never hold him again.

Never call him Sweetheart or Love or Sunshine ever again.

Steve shudders a breath and tries to will away his spiral as shuffles in his chair, trying to find comfort in the loneliness he feels weighed down by. He wishes he could be sat next to Eddie. Sat next to the man he loves and longs for once again. Sat next to the man with a hand in his own and words of endearment whispered against the shell of his ear.

Watching the introductions and handshakes come to a close, Steve settles in for what feels to be a long night.

Shifting in his own chair Eddie twists with a wince to see Steve sat away from the group. His brows furrow and he looks like he's mulling something over before he speaks. Tone calm and maybe a little nervous, he invites Steve over with a crick of his neck, "Harrington, you patched me up man. I'm not gonna make you sit in the corner."

With a flutter in his chest Steve nods, flashes a tight lipped smile as pulls his chair closer to the group, choosing to sit between Dustin and Eddie.

He can allow himself this he thinks, being sat so close to the man he loves, relishing in the smell of Eddie's cologne, breathing it in like a drug, hoping it'll sustain him until the next time they see each other.

Struggling to keep his eyes elsewhere and not locked onto the man next to him, Steve snags Dustin's character sheet, the young boy squawking in protest. Holding the paper in his lap, pretending he understands anything that's written down, Steve skims the page. It's not a moment later that he feels Eddie's eyes on him.

"What?" He asks curiously, quietly, voice just above a whisper, looking to his right to find Eddie with his big beautiful eyes and rosy cheeks staring right at him.

Eddie coughs into his fist, ripping his gaze away from Steve and mutters a quiet, choked out, "Nothing."

On the other side of the table Steve watches as Eddie's friends whisper back and forth, Gareth suddenly jumping with a yelp as Eddie most likely kicks him in the shin with a hissed and not so quiet, "Shut. Up."

Their evening continues like so. Eddie's friends antagonising the poor guy over lord know what, the man himself sending Gareth what Steve knows to be a weightless death glare and the kids having the time of their life. It's in those moments that Steve watches Eddie's once plastered on and calculated grin turn into something unbridled and beautiful. Something he remembers falling in love with.

It's in those moments that Steve drinks in every ounce of Eddie Munson that he's allowed.

He thinks back to the start of everything. Their everything. To when he first brought the kids to Hellfire and sat in the corner for what felt like weeks, watching Eddie from afar, falling more and more in love with the man by the minute. The manic energy, the glimmer in his eye, the way he voiced every character and planned his campaigns out to a 'T'.

Those memories run like a reel through his mind as Eddie does much the same. Granted he's a little slower and wincing in pain every so often as he tries to act out the motions of a very boisterous bar keep that the adventurers have encountered, but he's still a beautiful thing to watch.

Again Steve finds his eyes tracing the figure before him. The animated movements, the way Eddie's lip twitches with a smile when he has something hidden up his sleeve. The rosy hue to his cheeks, the sharp look in his eye, the way, when Steve looks long enough those dark eyes meet his own.

He's sure he's staring, but at the moment he can't bring himself to care.

–

An hour and a burning vastness in his chest later, Steve watches as the guys pack up and Eddie has a quiet conversation with the kids at the door. Dustin's beaming, Lucas' eyes are wide and Mike has a greatly out of character grin spreading across his face.

Whatever it is that they're talking about, Steve's sure he'll hear about it on the way home.

It's nearly dark when they make it outside, the sky a wash of pinks and oranges, fading to black. The doors to the school crash against brick walls with a bang as Dustin flings them open with a flourish. There's chatter and laughter and Steve's heart soars with the familiarity of it all.

Through the chaos he can make out Eddie's laughter, the rasp and roll of his words as he struggles to sputter out something in reaction to whatever it was that Dustin's said.

Nostalgic is what comes to mind when warmth fills Steve's chest and he savours the sound as it meets his ears. He hasn't heard Eddie's laughter in over a month and the realisation of the fact is shattering in its own way.

Shattering much like the happiness in this moment that they've created when the sounds of a window breaking trickles into the air.

The group falls silent, halting in their tracks as they try to single out the source of the sound. Maybe it's the years of monster hunting, the trauma that it's caused, but Steve can see how the kids are on high alert, ready and waiting for the worst case scenario. Even if it was just a few weeks ago El confirmed that the Upside Down had essentially imploded, they're still on the ready for the 'what if'.

But the source proves itself soon enough as three silhouettes run out from behind Eddie's van and down the street to a parked sedan, jumping in with haste and squealing their tires on their abrupt getaway.

Anger fills his chest and he wishes he would have done something more than just stand there and watch. But maybe it was the relief that it was people and not monsters that left his feet rooted to the steps of Hawkins High.

But than a gutted whisper comes from behind him, a breathless, broken, "What the fuck?"

He turns to see Eddie, the joy that'd finally found its way to his face is gone and it's like he doesn't even have the energy to pull on a mask as he stands there in shock. Brows furrowed, eyes glassy, he doesn't move for a moment, not until Steve watches Gareth clasp his shoulder and offer a comforting squeeze.

It's a slow, cautious thing from there, Eddie making his way to the van, Gareth and the guys in tow as Steve tells the kids to get in the car with a hardly audible hiss.

The kids are quiet, concerned and the look on Dustin's face nearly breaks his heart. Steve ruffles the kid's hair, trying to offer some reassurance before he ducks into the car and Steve finds himself moving to join the four that now stand with shattered glass at their feet next to Eddie's van.

Eddie's still speechless, it's a stark comparison to how Steve knows him normally to be. Though that's not to say he hasn't seen the man in silence before; contemplative, considering, content. But Steve's never seen this. The devastation, the exhaustion. The way Eddie begins to shake and he brings clenched fists to wrap around his waist while still remaining silent.

Steve wants to say something, wants to reach out and take those tightly clasped hands in his own and soothe. He wants to be the voice of reason and reassurance. But he can't.

He can't so he looks to Gareth with pleading eyes for him to do something, say something.

The man shares a glance and Steve watches as Gareth's hand tightens on Eddie's shoulder and the eldest man chokes out a whisper of, "Gar I - I can't afford this."

In the meantime the other guys are silent, surveying the wreckage before them and slowly beginning to wander with cautious steps over broken glass and what Steve can see to be a can of spray paint on the other side of the van.

He bristles at the sight and hopes to anyone that's listening that Eddie doesn't round the driver's side to see the remaining damage. It's obvious by the look on Jeff's face that it isn't anything good.

The younger man who he's only grown to know in the last year moves to stand at his side. Eyeing Eddie to ensure he doesn't overhear, Jeff leans nearer and whispers, "Both driver side tires are slashed and they spray painted 'Murderer' across the whole side."

Steve's stomach plummets but all he's able to offer in response is a nod.

The guys don't know about all the shit that went down, but Steve knows they believed Eddie's innocence from the beginning. They're good guys and great friends to Eddie and even after profusely apologising for being a prick all throughout high-school, Steve still feels guilty when in their presence. Even after Eddie lost his memory, they still treated Steve as one of their own. Maybe they didn't check on him in the last weeks, but from Wayne, he knows they've at least asked about him. Offered their help.

Plus, he's sure at the very least that Gareth has an inkling as to what he and Eddie have been up to in the last year. He's never said anything, but Steve's sure the man knows something, if the sideways glances, eye rolls and teasing smiles are anything to go by.

After a moment Steve finally speaks, "Just, uh, don't let him see it okay?"

Jeff offers a tight lipped grimace, shares a sad glance and nods to where Eddie and Gareth are standing a few feet in front of them, "You able to take him home? I would man, but I've got the other two plus a shit ton of band gear." There's a quiet self deprecating laugh before he adds, "We hardly fit Gareth in the back."

"Y- yeah. Not a problem. I'll uh, I'll just go let the kids know."

Jeff's nods and makes his way to the guys at the same time Steve's turns to go back to the car. He can see the concern on their faces as he approaches. Upon opening the door and bending to cock his head into the cab, he's met with Dustin's immediate inquiry, "What happened?"

He contemplates lying, telling them it's nothing, but these kids have seen enough shit, something like this won't bother them too much. It's just unfortunate. "I think the same guys who beat him up trashed the van too. Broken windows, slashed tires, Jeff said there's some spray paint on the other side." He doesn't know what else to say for a moment, not until Lucas speaks up, asking, "There anything we can do to help?"

To that Steve nods, asks them to cram into the back and lets them know that they're taking Eddie home. Normally asking Dustin to vacate the passenger seat would be a fight, but he goes willingly, though be it scrambling over the seat instead of using the door.

Making his way towards the four standing near the van, Steve watches Jeff lean in and speak to Eddie, the older man looking to his friend with a confused expression and furrowed brows, but as Jeff nods and cricks his head in Steve's direction, he can't help the swell of warmth in his chest seeing the look in Eddie's eyes. There's confusion, but there's warmth and something he's yet to decipher.

"You sure Harrington?" Eddie asks, sounding just a touch breathless and all the bit exhausted.

Steve nods, looks towards the car where the kids seem to be arguing in the back seat, pushing and shoving when he's sure he hears Dustin yelp.

"Yeah Munson. Now get in before Dustin decides to commandeer the front seat and you're stuck in the back with those two."

—

They're about a mile down the road and Eddie hasn't moved an inch from where he settled with his head against the glass and his shoulders curled inward, arms wrapped around his waist, hiding his face behind a veil of dark curls.

The kids are quiet, uncharacteristically so, reduced to whispers and shared glances. Many times through the rearview mirror does Steve catch their concerned expressions sent in Eddie's direction, especially so when they quietly vacate the vehicle one by one.

Once the kids are gone and the car's even further filled with uncomfortable silence, Steve regrets his earlier decision to not bother putting in a tape when they left the school. The silence and the faint, occasional sniffle from Eddie's side of the vehicle is too much. He wants nothing more than to reach out, lay his palm on Eddie's thigh and squeeze. Just something simple, let him know that he's there if he needs him. But he can't.

He can't, so he does something that he knows at the very least will distract Eddie. Keeping his eyes on the road, Steve blindly digs through the centre console, eventually coming out with a tape in hand. With little struggle he ejects what was in the player, not bothering to look at it as he pops in his 'Tears For Fears' cassette.

Thirty seconds into the first song and Steve hears a snort come from the other man. He can't help the warmth that fills his chest at the sound.

"'Course you listen to Tears For Fears." Eddie huffs to the glass of the window, his smirk left visible through the reflection looking back at him.

Steve smiles to himself, feeling warmth in his chest, knowing at least in this moment he's making Eddie feel something other than dread.

The first song plays through and when the cassette reaches 'Head Over Heels,' Steve can't help but snicker, "Guess I'm Head Over Heels for Tears For Fears."

Eddie snorts a laugh and sits up enough to lull his head to the side to face Steve. His cheeks are rosy and his eyes are rimmed red but Steve can't help but think he's still beautiful.

They're silent for a while, a few more songs playing through while Steve obnoxiously taps his fingers to the beat trying to pull another smile out of Eddie. He's successful after a moment and it's then that Steve builds the confidence to finally ask what's been wearing on him since earlier in the evening, "Hey, um, back at the school you'd said something about 'it's just the Bible Thumping Jocks again'."

Eddie's eyes search the side of Steve's face for a moment, he can feel them settle as he continues to drive and Eddie asks cautiously, "What about it Harrington?"

"This happen to you a lot?"

There's a contemplative hum from the passenger seat and in the same instant the tape turns to silence, Eddie answers, "Nothing like the van, but yeah. Getting the shit beat out of me is a pretty regular occurrence."

Steve hums in response, it's nothing he doesn't know, when he and Eddie were together he'd been told as much, but still, he can't help but ask, "Lately?"

While Eddie worries his cheek and he chances another look at Steve, gravel begins to crunch under the tires as they turn into the trailer park. It's only when they're pulling up to the Munson home that Eddie answers, something hesitant in his tone, "Been worse since I got out of the hospital."

Steve nods, slowing the car to a stop and throwing it in park before he responds with a faint, "Sorry."

Sitting in front of the Munson trailer with Eddie quiet and at his side, Steve tries his hardest to not let his emotions get the best of him. He tries to not think of the hundreds of times he's been here before. Not the date's, not the kisses shared on the roof in the dead of night, not the times they danced in the kitchen or the umpteen unfortunate occurrences when they got caught on the couch doing the one thing Wayne explicitly asked them not to.

He tries to not think about any of it.

Especially when his chest begins to tighten and he can feel tears beginning to well.

He'd unlocked the door when they pulled up, half expecting Eddie to run for the hills upon the vehicle coming to a stop, but the man stays sat in his passenger seat, looking back at him with something akin to concern in his eyes.

And Steve can't fucking take it. He grits his teeth and tries to reign in his composure, but it damn near crumbles when Eddie so sweetly asks him what's wrong and he has to feign something that's not devastation when he answers, "Nothing ya need t' worry about Munson."

---

Ao3 link ⤵️

[fruityfourgalore]

tagged by @legitcookie @riality-check @thefreakandthehair

rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words

(i think this is the last one i wrote from a wip--its been a hot minute)

“You know, when a child doesn’t feel heard, they tend to fall into depression. A child needs to feel heard by their parent.” 

Eddie’s eyes snap back to Dustin. “And you’re the child? You think you are my child?” 

“I am your child,” Dustin replies matter-of-factly. “We are all your children. Yours and Steve’s.”

“You make us out to be some sort of cult,” Eddie stops with the silverware. “Wait, so does that make Steve and I married?” 

“Save the stupid questions for later, Eddie. As I was saying, Suzie is coming to Indiana and I think I have a plan to get her to Hawkins. I want to introduce her to D & D. Is it cool?” He asks. 

no-pressure-🏷s: @re-bec-ca-ann @original-cypher @wynnyfryd @spellboundbysteve @justspicysixthings @rainbow-nerdss @gorgeousgreymatter-x

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself black up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[stevesbipanic]

Eddie gets stuck in a time loop but has no idea why, his day is normal, there's not even a test that day that he can use this to pass. After a few time loops he says fuck it let's start doing fun things, starting with talking to his crush, the lovely Fallen King Steve. After a few loops Steve starts talking back, soon there's whole loops with just them hanging out.

Little does Eddie know, Steve is in a time loop too trying to stop the Upside Down once again, he's just having a hard time caring when there's this sweet metalhead chatting him up everyday. Maybe he deserves to waste a few loops.

[devondespresso]

barista!eddie drawing a pentagram or whatever with the table cleaner while closing and accidentally summoning demon!steve, who's absolutely stoked to see a cozy little coffee shop for the first time

[stevieschrodinger]

Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU

Part One

Part Two

PART THREE

"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."

"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"

"Yeah, like a series."

"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"

"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"

"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someones entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."

Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.

"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"

"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"

"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.

Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"

"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."

Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.

Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'

And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.

There's preemptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.

"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."

Steve's heart fucking melts.

Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.

"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing."

"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"

"Yeah. Still not my thing-"

"Oh."

"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."

"...yeah?"

"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."

"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"

"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."

"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.

"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."

"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all. Steve doesn't know how he;s keeping his tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.

"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."

"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."

"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."

"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."

And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.

@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch

[cherries-and-smoke]

I’ve never been to New Mexico

“Hey mom.” Steve is leaning against the fridge, wrapping the phone chord around his finger. He already wants this conversation to be over.

“Hi Steve,” she grimaces back, as if he’s already done something wrong. She says something about New Mexico, and a business conference and how it’s unbearably hot and Steve is doing what he always does during these phone calls, emotionally detaching so the sting of his parents words don’t cut into his skin.

“You would hate New Mexico.” That snaps him out of it.

“What?” He chokes out. He pretends it doesn’t hurt.

“We’re in the desert, and you can see all these stars from the house we’re staying at and it’s so boring.”

Steve swallows.

Steve wonders how his mother can take the stars in the sky and turn them cold.

And also how she’s so far from knowing him, the real him, that its almost laughable.

“It’s just dreadful here - oh look your fathers home! Don’t get into any trouble Stev-”and the line clicks dead.

Steve shakily sets the phone down and inhales. Part of him wants to rip it off the wall and smash it into a million tiny pieces. He never wants them to contact him again.

The funny thing is that yesterday, Nance, Rob and Eddie had all come over to help him plan their summer road trip. They took some of Erica’s left over My Little Pony stickers and mapped everything out. There was currently a pink pony placed carefully next to Santa Fe on the map. Eddie and Steve had watched as Nancy and Robin launched into an argument about which route they should take and they both ended up covered in unicorn stickers. Eddie and Steve shared a knowing look.

They all needed a break from the upside down. From what happened during spring break. So when Jonothan suggested that the kids spend the summer at Argyles family’s beach house in California, Joyce and Hopper didn’t put up much of a fight. Nancy, Robin, Eddie and Steve were going to meet them and spend the rest of the summer bugging the kids to put on sunscreen and heard them from activity to activity.

Steve loves the kids, he does. He loves the way Dustin always comes to him with his scientific discovery of the day, he loves Erica’s sense of humor, although some manners wouldn’t hurt, he loves the way Will always quietly says thank you, how El says bitchin’, how Mike can always find a way to trip over air. He loves Lucas’s high pitched laugh and the way Max rolls her eyes at Steve when he makes a lame dad joke. But the month long break had been nice. It gave him time to focus on other things.

He was actually looking forward to New Mexico.

His parents always assumed he hated the outdoors because he spent the summers of his childhood locked away inside trying not to bother anyone while his parents fought, or his mom drank too much, or when they inevitably left. Steve wasn’t exactly going to summer camps like other kids his age. Didn’t mean he didn’t want to.

Steve places his hands on the kitchen island and takes a steady breath. He isn’t going to let her get to him.

“Honey I’m homeeeeeee,” Eddie calls out from the entryway. “You would not believe what happened at practice, Gareth had the audacity to fuck up the one so- Eddie freezes and gives Steve a once over. “What’s wrong?”

“Mom called.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“What’d she say?” Eddie steps around the kitchen island and takes both of Steve’s hands in his own. Steve fidgets with Eddie’s rings.

“That I would hate New Mexico,” Steve whispers not even bothering to look up at Eddie.

“She doesn’t even know you, how would she know that?”

Steve’s silent. He wants to travel across the entire country with Eddie, do it all. And secretly he hopes that maybe one day they’d somehow have a family and do it again. Maybe every summer.

Eddie brings Steve’s hands to his face and kisses his knuckles, the sensation grounding him.

“She doesn’t deserve you Stevie.”

Steve gives Eddie a soft smile. Eddie always tells him that. Steve never fully believes him.

“They don’t deserve you,” Eddie leans his forehead against Steve’s when he says it.

“Also, the girls are coming over, we have a surprise for you.”

“What?” Steve says looking up. Eddie just raises an eyebrow and an epiphany crosses his face.

Steve watches as Eddie pats himself down till he finds what he’s looking for. He pulls out his black bandana with a smirk and motions for Steve to turn around.

“Is now really the time?” Steve muses.

“Shut up.”

Steve lets Eddie tie the black bandana around his eyes so everything is pitch black. Eddie carefully guides Steve by his shoulders till they’re standing in his front lawn.

“Eddie what the fuck.”

Eddie giggles.

“Just wait.”

Steve huffs as his boyfriend wraps an arm around the nape of his neck and pokes at his frown till it turns into a smile.

Steve suddenly hears a honk.

A very loud honk that‘s getting closer and closer. Eddie absentmindedly runs his thumb in circles on the back of Steve’s neck.

He hears a pair of footsteps on the hot pavement. “Dingus!!” Steve feels a crash of weight on his side and tries not to let that startle him. He can tell it’s Robin from a mile away.

“What are you guys doing?” Steve says, bandana wrapped tightly around his eyes as Robin squeezes his hand.

“Hey Steve!” Nancy’s voice rings out from across the lawn. He‘s faintly aware something’s jingling in her hand.

“Are you ready? Are you ready? Are you-”

“Robin,” Steve says exasperated.

“I’ll take that as yes.”

“Ok guys on the count of three,” Steve hears Eddie say.

They all inhale and in unison Robin, Nancy and Eddie start counting.

“One. Two. Three.” The bandana comes off.

Parked right in front of Steve’s house is a brand new, state of the art RV. Steve is kind of having trouble breathing.

“Guys…” he trails off.

They all look at him waiting for his reaction.

“Who’s RV is this? It’s really nice.”

Robin groans, Nancy hits her shoulder lightly.

Eddie’s hand is still resting on the back of his neck.

“It’s yours,” Eddie finally says.

That seems to snap Steve out of his daze.

“What?”

“Guys this is too much. I mean look at it!” Steve motions with his hands.

It’s the newest model. Big enough to fit the entire party and more.

“So Steve,” Robin begins, looking up at him hopefully.

“You know how Owen’s gave us all hush money? Well we talked to the kids and we were talking about how much we love you and how much you do for us, and how we want to spend as much time together as we can before the kids leave for college, and you know before we all move and everyone gets separated and how we should start doing family vacations and basically-”

“Robin,” Steve sighs.

“Let me finish! Basically we decided that we want to do family road-trips… every summer.”

Steve drinks in the words “family road-trips.” Sweat is prickling his skin from the Indiana heat.

“And we decided to all pitch in and get an RV, it’s in your name by the way, we want you to have it.”

Steve is at a loss for words. Robin is still waiving her hands around in excitement, Nancy‘s looking at him expectantly and Eddie’s palm is now cemented on his shoulder.

“Why me?”

“Because we love you dingus, duh.”

“Plus we gotta make room for those six little nuggets huh Stevie,” Eddie whispers into his ear with a smile.

Steve lets their words wash over him. He loves them so much. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve them but he’s grateful nonetheless. Steve breaks out into a wide grin and catches Eddie’s gaze.

Robin makes a gagging noise as Nancy presses the RV’s keys into his free hand. The key is dangling from a unicorn keychain.

She smiles. “Wanna see the inside?”

[someforeignband]

merry christmas when is your wlw steddie fic coming out

merry christmas to you too, anon!

to feed the masses, have this, a snippet from the other wlw steddie fic, “A Sailor Sky Made a Perfect Sunset”

this one’s got (sorta) Appalachian Eddie and serves as a canon-exploratory Stevie character study - no upside down, but themes of self expression, identity, and mean girl stevie

[little-annie]

All I Want | Ch 5

Steddie | Little_Annie | Ao3

Chapter 4 ⤵️

---

Robin's POV

They'd been through hell together.

Russian torture and life altering trauma, the wake of what felt like an approaching apocalyptic event on their heels and Robin had never seen Steve like this. Not while he was bruised and battered, bloody and beaten within an inch of his life, not when hell crumbled around them, dark and decaying, the stench of death in the air. 

But rather rapidly had the man gone from strong and stoic, guardian and protector of all to a shell of a man. Mind frail and body weak, his eyes red and something dark looming over him, Steve was the furthest thing from his old self.

The man who swung a nail bat through the gore of a Demogorgan's skull, the man who shuddered a breath around blood in his teeth and carried on like he hadn't just tore a Demobat in half with his bare hands.

This version of Steve Harrington was a stranger. Closed off to those who he loved, closed off from his passions and the world around him. 

The hospital was odd enough, the man waking in a panic to demand the reassurance of another who he hardly knew. The town 'Freak' of all people. The man who Steve in his Junior year would snear at while walking past, never laying a hand on him but assuring his cronies did.

But Steve Harrington was a persistent thing, becoming uncharacteristically demanding to the point of being an out right asshole. The reassurance Robin provided wasn't nearly enough and oftentimes would they find Steve gone and in Eddie's room down the hall. 

At first Robin thought it was the guilt; Steve's plan being the whole reason Eddie was lingering on death's door. And maybe it had been, but there was something more, something indecipherable in the way Steve held Eddie Munson's blood stained hands in his own. Something in the way his eyes shined and cheeks glowed upon mention of the man. Something in the way that after Steve Harrington was discharged, he never left the hospital.

Something in the way Robin watched his sanity crumble from the moment Eddie's memory loss was mentioned to the group, though truthfully it seemed rather shaky for the days coming up to that conversation anyways.

Slowly the man faded away. Shifts at Family Video skipped, calls going missed, knocks at the door, ignored. It'd gotten to the point where the man Robin Buckley called her best friend felt like a figment of her imagination or at the very least a distant memory. 

It wasn't like Steve to go MIA. Normally he'd be an ever present force, the glue that held their group together or the man that'd soldier on through the toughest of days. It's not like it was a rare thing for Steve to have bad days, or weeks; they all did. You can't just go through trauma like they had without having a few setbacks of your own. Jumping at the flicker of a light or being rocked to your core by something as simple as a song. It happened to all of them. Though granted, in the last year, Steve seemed to be coping well on his own.

It'd been weeks since she'd actually seen the man and not so slowly was Robin beginning to feel like there was a gaping hole in her heart. Since the whole Starcourt Mall incident, the most time they'd gone without seeing each other was a week and well, now that record was greatly surpassed. 

Now Robin found herself behind the counter of Family Video, short staffed like it often was nowadays, an empty spot to her side where a Steve Harrington used to reside. The day had dragged slowly, her morning starting off at school in Mrs. Click's class and her afternoon ending with quite frankly a sickening amount of studying for finals before making her way to work.

English notes, highlighters and text books shoved off to the side, it was with a ring of the bell above the door that Robin was pulled back to reality. Eddie Munson stood before her, all gangly limbs and wild hair, flashing her a smile that tweaked the still healing scar on his cheek. She greeted him with the ever boring company welcome, "Welcome to Family Video…" bla bla bla, receiving a quick wave of Munson's ringed fingers as the man slunked off to the horror section of the store.

It was weird seeing the man and acting like they hadn't gone through literal hell together, let alone helped to hold his guts in while he nearly bled out in the back of Steve Harrington's Beemer. But, according to the doctors apparently they'd have to let Eddie's mind and body heal a little longer before they could breach the topic of memory loss. Something about how his brain was still healing from the trauma and he'd need time to let the metaphorical smoke clear.

But that's not to say Eddie didn't remember Robin from their previous years. They'd met in band and stayed friendly acquaintances since; laughing over nonsense and getting in shit in class when they'd get too loud. Though ultimately they ran in different circles and didn't see much of one another outside of the band room. But Robin still waved back and called to ask if he needed any help. 

She couldn't help but wonder how Eddie's schooling was going, this being his third kick at senior year and well, being in the hospital for a month he'd missed a good chunk of classes. Plus she's pretty sure his grades were shit to begin with.

Letting the remainder of her late afternoon drag on, Robin ignored her study notes and spent her time counting the silver flakes in the farmicia countertop top in front of her, leaving Eddie to his own devices a few aisles over.

It'd been some time, 105 flakes of silver to be exact, when a large ringed hand slid a copy of 'Amityville Horror' into her line of sight.

Munson alway had good taste in movies. 

"Robin Buckley, as I live and breathe." Eddie drolled, those theatre kid dramatics ever present in his tone, "Just this and a package of Red Vines please."

Robin smiled a winning customer service smile and scanned the package of candy and the tape. She didn't quite trust herself to speak for fear she may say something that'd trigger some weird chain reaction in Eddie's fragile psyche, so she remained silent. Following the beep of the scanner, the monitor screen flashes red in front of her indicating a late fee. She sighs internally, a nervous bounce beginning in her knee. 

It's not like she actually gave a shit, but technically she wasn't supposed to let a customer rent anything if they had a late fee overdue by a month or more and well, it looked like Eddie had rented the tape months ago. Though, due to recent events, that might pose a problem. 

Without sparing Eddie a glance, Robin wordlessly scrunched her nose at the movie title and cleared the fee. 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' didn't really seem like Eddie's cup of tea, but to each their own she supposed. She just never expected the metalhead to watch such a thing.

"Thanks Bucks," Eddie smiled upon grabbing the receipt, knocking his knuckles on the countertop before reaching for his candy and horror fic. With a curt nod and the gingle of chains attached to his pants, Eddie strided out the front door and back into the slowly fading daylight.

Sitting there in the ever boring hell hole she called work, Robin couldn't help but snort a laugh at the thought of Eddie Munson watching 'Breakfast at Tiffany's.' Really if anything it seemed like something Steve would deem as one of his guilty pleasures. Much like his love of the Golden Girls.

Robin hummed to herself in thought for a moment. Surveying the store and its many empty aisles, it dawned on her that she still had hours of her shift to go. She could re-shelve the returns, vacuum the floors or wipe the windows, maybe even jump back into her studies, but there was something prying at the back of her brain as her eyes scanned the stool next to her where a rather pain in the ass jock normally sat.

She winced at the reminder of her loneliness and that she knew Steve had to also be experiencing. 

The store was empty and it was a Tuesday night for christ sake, no one's hard pressed to rent a movie this time of the week. Well apparently except for Eddie Munson, but he'd also been the only other human being to enter the store since her shift started hours ago. 

Maybe she could call, just check in on the guy.

Rather unceremoniously Robin moved to the front door and flipped the lock along with the 'be back in 15 minutes' sign. It's not like she'd get in shit, she was due for her break soon anyways and fuck Keith if he's going to raise a stink about that.

Snatching a bag of Red Vines from the display Robin made her way to the back room, toeing open the door and hitting the light switch with her newly liberated bag of Licorice. She plopped down onto the rather ratty couch and pulled the phone off the hook and into her lap, dialling an all too familiar number on instinct.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Each shrill noise that was sure to be bellowing through the Harrington household, going ignored. Just like the last dozen calls Robin tried to place over the last several days. When it came time for the answering machine to pick up the call, she was left with the realisation that between her and the kids, the machine was full and anything she was hard pressed to tell the man would be left to be shouted through a door only to hope there was a young man on the other side listening.

She hung up, her hands feeling weak and a little shaky, a silent tear rolling down her cheek before she gave in and allowed herself to cry.

It wasn't long after Eddie woke up that Steve started to shut himself out. His shifts at Family Video dwindling, calls going ignored and any effort of contact going dismissed. For the longest while Robin couldn't help but think it was because of something she'd said or done, but by the way it wasn't just her being shut out, it was obvious it was something different.

Near daily she'd gone to the Harrington house to knock on a door or window, peeking in through the blinds only to find what she could see untouched. For a wild moment she'd thought the man died, but there were subtle signs of life she'd begun to notice. A coffee cup left on the kitchen counter or the ever piling mass of dishes in the sink that she could only see when she squinted through the west side window just right. 

A few times she'd noticed Steve's car had moved, sitting parked maybe a few inches more to the left or right than the last time she attempted to talk to the man. Though that brought on the depressing fact that he'd left the house and hadn't bothered to see her. 

Robin sniffled to herself, wiping tears and snot away with the back of her hand and the hem of her shirt. 

Maybe he'd answer the door tonight.

-

Four hours and one minor mental break down later, Robin found herself twisting the lock to Family Video and beginning her trek home. Something she was still getting used to after months of Steve being her ride and very suddenly not.

The streets were dark and the sky was gloomy, grey clouds hanging low enough to cast a fog over the landscape. Robin fucking hated walking home on the nights she was closing up shop. Not managing to close the till and lock the doors until after ten pm, she found herself walking home in the dark, checking over her shoulders at any crack of a stick or scuffle of dirt in the distance.

Hawkins wasn't a scary place before she discovered the literal hell dimension that thrived beneath it, but well, you see a Demogorgan one day and you're bound to be a little scared at the thought of what could be hiding in the shadows. But the gates were closed and that little slice of hell on earth had supposedly imploded, so technically she had nothing to worry about.

Though that's not to say she didn't break into a jog at the site of movement in the trees.

It may have been a little ways off her path, but wheezing for a breath of air, hands on her knees, Robin found herself standing at the end of Steve Harrington's driveway.

The lights in the house were off, just like they had been for every other time she tried to visit the home in recent days. Nothing seemed different or out of place since her last attempted visit. Approaching what seemed to be an abandoned home, Robin couldn't help but let a wave of rage and sadness wash over her. 

By the time she reached the door, she was fuming. It wasn't with much thought that she booted the front door, yelling out the man's name, not giving a single shit if she woke any neighbours with her sheer volume. She booted the door again, hands braced on the frame as she wound her leg back and winced when it made contact, cursing under her breath to only yell again.

"Steve! You asshole! You can't just ignore us forever!"

Another kick and an unanswered response.

"Fuck man," she huffed under her breath, her Converse clad toes pulsing in pain.

"Steve, come on," she huffed again, tone whiny, feeling the prickle of tears in her eyes, "we miss you. I miss you."

But a response never came and with a series of aggressive slaps to the door, and anger blooming in her chest, Robin threw her head back and shouted, "You gigantic asshole, you can't just abandon us!"

The amount of sheer silence in response nearly forced a sob to break past her lips, but she swallowed it down and began to stomp off. The thought of committing a felony and breaking into the house, not a distant thought in her mind. 

As she reached the end of the walkway and angrily booted the mailbox, Robin hastily dug out her English notes and a pen. A blank sheet of paper infront of her, the first words she managed to write down being a large and bold, 'Fuck You.' But with a slight bit of discretion, she furiously scribbled over the two words and began to write.

It was messy, half of it most likely jiberish ramblings smeared with tears, but as she aggressively scratched her name onto the bottom of the paper, she shouted back to the house. "Check your mailbox in the morning asshole!"

And she stomped off, shouldering her backpack and somehow managing to get home through a blur of tears.

It wasn't until she was lying in bed, knees clutched to her chest, that she regretted the way she acted and the foul things she wrote in that letter. But she was mad and that's a valid emotion to have when your best friend's ignoring you and seems to have dropped off the face of the earth.

Maybe she didn't need to call him an asshole so many times. Maybe she didn't need to incessantly ramble about his stupid hair and that he cares more about it than her in the letter. But she's mad, and mad people don't think straight, they do stupid, mean things. She didn't want Steve to read that letter, there'd been much worse things scrolled onto it that she angrily scratched into the paper in the heat of the moment. 

She recalls weaponizing the world bullshit far too many times to be able to stomach.

Fading into what would be a restless sleep, Robin comes to the conclusion that tomorrow afternoon she would swing by and steal the letter back. No harm done and while there she'd try to speak to the man again. Though maybe a little more calmly this time. 

-

It's not until the following evening that she walks up to the Harrington house only to find Steve's car and the letter that was once hastily shoved into the mailbox, gone.

---

[starrystevie]

steve who got a lower back tattoo on a drunken dare in his late 20s and forgets it's there most of the time. steve who stretches one night at a party and his shirt rides up exposing the swirling lines that peek out from under his belt line. steve who doesn't think anything of it and forgets to pull his shirt back down as he leans forward on the couch while talking with the group, basking in the welcomed burn of a certain pair of eyes locked on him.

eddie who's sitting next to him, gripping the back of the couch cushion where his arm is slung around his long term crush like it's the only tether he has to planet earth because not only does steve have a tattoo, but it's right there. eddie who takes in a shuddering breath and can't pull his gaze away from the ink that spreads low over tanned skin that he longs to explore. eddie who digs his other hand into his knee to keep it from doing anything stupid like running his fingers over the tattoo or pulling steve up to go to the spare bedroom.

steve who shoots frozen-in-place eddie a knowing smirk after a few seconds as he leans over even further before standing up and holding out his hand in invitation anyway. eddie who finds out later in the night that he doesn't have to wonder what the tattoo feels like under his fingers for much longer.

[sashaforthewin]

The mosh pit was intense. 

Steve had never been to a concert with moshing, but after a few moments of assessing the situation while trying to protect Dustin, he got the hang of it. There seemed to be one main focused clump of violence and then the edges where people were taking hits but not giving them. Steve instinctively knew this was where he was meant to go, so he positioned himself between the moshers and his charge. Dustin, unfortunately, seemed completely clueless and kept trying to get around Steve to get in on the fun. 

Upon closer observation, Steve noticed that the pit, while chaotic, wasn't actually as violent as he first thought. If someone went down, everyone around them pulled the person up. No fists were colliding. It was wild and bodies were slamming into each other, but it didn't seem life-threatening. So Steve looked at Dustin and said, "once around and then back here," before stepping aside and letting Dustin into the chaos.

Steve's eyes tracked Dustin's progress around the pit while he continued to take the hits the people behind him clearly didn't want to take. Bodies slammed against him, but there was something about it that was starting to be fun. There was a sort of camaraderie to the whole thing.

The moshing was moving in a sort of slow clockwise rotation, seemingly without anyone consciously choosing to do so. But then a guy slammed into Steve from the opposite direction, swimming against the stream, as it were, laughing and smiling. He looked at Steve and then did a double take.

"Hi," the guy said, now standing still within the mosh pit, unphased by the bodies slamming into him from all angles as he took Steve's hand in a slow shake, staring at him with huge dark eyes and a wide smile. 

"Hi," Steve responded. 

"I love your hair!" The guy said, still holding onto Steve's hand.

"Thanks, I love your vest!"

"Thanks, do you-" he started to ask but was cut off when the pit started to speed up and everyone started slam-dancing in a faster rotation. The guy was swept away into the circle and Steve lost sight of him.

Steve blinked. Then he saw Dustin, whose loud shirt was much easier to spot at a distance, and yanked him out of the circle pit. He could sort of see the guy every once in a while but the pit had him now so Steve continued his barrier duties of protecting the general crowd from the moshing and Dustin continued enjoying the raucous music.

As soon as the song ended, the guy popped back up next to Steve. 

"I love your energy, by the way. I haven't seen you at any shows around. I'm Eddie," he said, flirty, taking Steve's hand again, not really shaking it but more formal than the typical holding hands. 

"I'm Steve. Ow, and this is Dustin who I babysit because he is an immature little child," Steve said, rubbing the back of his leg where Dustin had kicked him.

Dustin was glaring.

"Dude, you don't have to call it babysitting, I'm fifteen."

"Don't worry, little fella, maybe your hot babysitter will invite me over some night he's watching you so we can hang out without you after your bed time."

"Ew. Also, he makes out with women, he likes women," Dustin proclaimed. 

"And more," Steve shrugged, still staring and smiling at Eddie. 

"More, huh? Well I am most definitely more."

Steve had never gone after a guy before, but he couldn't deny the appeal of someone so obviously really attracted to him. His inability to tell if he liked someone or if he liked that they liked him had caused him issues in the past and it sure wasn't showing signs of stopping any time soon, so he just embraced it. He was always willing to give it a shot and see what happened. 

So, with that in mind they exchanged numbers and then got to chatting. Dustin got bored and snuck off back to the mosh pit and Steve decided he could deal with whatever consequences he ended up with, which later turned out to be a bunch of bruises and a bloody, but unbroken, nose. 

But in the meantime, Steve and Eddie discovered they were both in Chicago for the concert and were actually both from the same town, though about as far away from each other as they could possibly live while still being in the town limits. They made plans to hang out at the Hideout the following weekend just in case they lost each other's numbers, and then they were rudely interrupted by Dustin turning up with blood pouring out of his nose. Eddie grabbed them some bar napkins and Steve decided they'd better call it a night. 

"Here, little man, we can trade shirts so you don't have to jumpscare your parents with gore. I like Weird AL and I don't mind being covered in blood. That sounded weird, don't take that the wrong way, Steve."

After some grumbling, Dustin and Eddie swapped shirts. Steve thanked him for being so considerate and kind by pulling him in by the hand and placing a small kiss on his lips, which Eddie eagerly reciprocated and the two made out hot and heavy for a moment until Dustin yelled at them and dragged Steve away.

Eddie just stood there smiling and watching his future husband get pulled out of the club by a disgruntled teen now rocking a Corroded Coffin shirt. After they were out of sight, he sighed wistfully and then headed back into the new circle pit that was just forming. 

[delta-piscium]

Steddie | 1.7k words it is (swedish) midsummer so I wrote this based on my favorite old tradition because I can and will make anything steddie, so like glad midsommar (happy midsummer)

“What are you doing?” Steve asks as he follows Eddie to the hallway where he’s frantically putting on his shoes. 

“I almost forgot,” he mutters under his breath not acknowledging Steve at all.

“Forgot what?” 

“I can’t believe I almost forgot.” 

“Eddie,” Steve says a little louder, more adamant.

He does look up at Steve then and almost looks surprised to see him. As if he’d forgotten he was there, as if they haven’t been hanging out for hours. 

“Oh,” he says. “Uhm,” he squints at Steve who waits for him to continue, to explain. He doesn’t.

“Yes?” Steve implores because he would really like an explanation. Eddie had just abruptly stood up halfway through telling Steve about some folklore he’s using in his new campaign, just cut himself off mid-sentence and walked off. Steve doesn’t think it’s especially weird or demanding of him to have questions. 

“Did you have other plans that you just now remembered?” Steve frowns, starting to feel unsure when Eddie still isn’t saying anything. It’s just past eleven at night and Steve doesn’t know what plans those would be but he had showed up unannounced earlier in the evening so it’s not impossible that Eddie had plans that Steve interrupted. 

“No, no, no,” Eddie assures him finally breaking his silence, “it’s- okay it’s a little silly but I read this thing researching and I want to try it.” 

And well, okay then.

Steve raises his eyebrows and waves his hand gesturing for Eddie to go on. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light pink and he resolutely looks somewhere above Steve’s shoulder instead of at him. 

“Midsummer, which is today, is supposed to be this magical night and there are all these traditions and old myths about it.” 

Eddie glances at Steve and he smiles. Tries to show he’s listening and wants to know whatever thing Eddie read about. 

“And well, okay so there’s this one tradition where you pick seven different kinds of flowers before you go to bed and then put them under your pillow and you’re supposed to dream about who you’re gonna spend your life with.” 

Steve blinks, wasn’t expecting that and doesn’t know what to say about it, so, he blinks again. 

“Maybe it’s dumb, but with all we’ve seen magic and folklore don’t seem so far-fetched and,” he shrugs, “I wanna try. And like, it’s close to midnight and I don’t know if that’s a rule but I don’t wanna risk messing it up.”

“It- huh,” Steve frowns slightly and looks at his shoes then back at Eddie. “Yeah alright, let’s do it. Can’t hurt right?” 

His voice is light, like it’s not a big deal and just a fun thing Eddie read about because that’s what it is, isn’t it? But something about it settles deep in Steve’s gut. Makes it feel important in a way he’s not sure he could explain if he tried. Maybe it’s just the fact that Eddie is getting so worked up about the possibility of dreaming about the person he’s gonna spend his life with when Steve maybe a little bit wishes it would be him, but like, only a little. 

Eddie looks at him with wide eyes like he didn’t expect Steve to want to join, like maybe he expected Steve to make fun of him for wanting to do it. But then something seems to switch in him and a slow smile spreads over his face and he gives Steve an exaggerated once over. 

“Looking to find your true love huh, Harrington?” 

“I thought you said it was the person you spend your life with, not the same as true love necessarily.” Steve quips back because technicalities are easier to argue over than answering that question, especially when Eddie is the one asking.

Eddie shrugs. “Different sources say different things, sometimes it’s true love sometimes it’s who you marry.” 

“Well, then I guess we’re both looking to find our true loves?” Steve hedges, drags Eddie down with him if they’re gonna go there. 

A soft look passes Eddie’s face before a responds, voice quieter. “Guess we are, yeah.” 

They pick their flowers in silence, something about the magic being broken if you speak. Walking around the edge of the woods behind Eddie’s trailer a couple of feet apart, every once in a while coming together or crossing paths. 

After, Steve stands in between Eddie’s trailer and his own car. Holding on to his bouquet of seven flowers unsure what to do. He could go home, he should go home, but he doesn’t want to. He did have some beers hours ago and if he was allowed to speak he’d use that as an excuse to not drive and ask Eddie to crash on his couch. Right now he can’t though so he sighs inwardly and turns to his car. 

He makes it about two steps before a hand reaches out and grips him around his free wrist stopping him. When he turns around Eddie is giving him a look that very clearly says ‘stop being stupid’ and jerks his head towards the trailer silently telling Steve to go with him. He doesn’t let go though and uses his grip on Steve to drag him along like he can’t be sure Steve will actually listen and follow. As if Steve would ever not follow Eddie. 

They quickly get ready for bed. And again when Steve walks toward the couch Eddie grabs him and shakes his head. He waves his arms around a bit like that’s supposed to explain anything but Steve isn’t too bothered about an explanation anyways and easily follows Eddie to his bedroom. 

They’ve shared a bed before but always when they’ve been drunk or high so this feels different. Steve is a little glad they can’t speak or he’s sure he’d blurt out something way too revealing about it all. 

He avoids looking at Eddie as he tucks his flowers in under his pillow, knows Eddie is doing the same next to him. Is aware of it only being an old myth from a region halfway across the world but there’s a weight to it. Something real and tangible. 

He expects it to take a while for him to fall asleep like it always does. For him to twist and turn and lay awake until the early morning. For once though, that doesn’t happen. With the weight of Eddie next to him and to the sounds of his soft breathing and small movements, Steve falls asleep.

And he dreams. He dreams of big brown eyes and bright laughter. Of wild hair and warm arms embracing him. He dreams of growing old next to someone and how every wrinkle on their face tells a story of their shared love. 

He wants to stay in the dream forever, desperately tries to hold onto it even as he floats into consciousness. He turns and groans, gets a mess of someone’s hair in his mouth and nose and that’s enough to startle him into full wakefulness. 

Eddie grumbles next to him, clearly also just waking up. Steve looks at him, with his wild hair and his big brown eyes that are slowly blinking open and of course. Of course, it was Eddie he dreamed about.

Their eyes meet and Eddie freezes. Eyes widening as he looks back at Steve. 

“Oh,” he says. 

And yeah, oh.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, unsure of how to bring it up, to ask about it. If he even should? 

He puts on a teasing smile, even though he feels like goo inside, but making it lighthearted is all he can think of because what if he’s taking this whole thing way too seriously? Jumping to conclusions? 

“Dream of anyone?” 

Eddie nods and looks away, “I did.” He says it simply, voice careful. 

And maybe it isn’t just Steve.

“Who?” He asks, dropping the teasing tone. 

Eddie swallows and looks back at Steve. “The person I wanted to dream of,” he says and it’s not really an answer but he’s looking at Steve so intently he thinks it still might be. 

He thinks about Eddie’s quiet but delighted surprise at Steve wanting to join him yesterday. About Eddie dragging him first into his trailer and then into his bed. How they’re so close on Steve’s side of the bed and Eddie must have drifted towards him in his sleep.

He bites his lip to stop his smile from spreading too wide, there’s still a chance he’s misinterpreting things, “yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And who would that be?” Steve asks, leaning in even closer until he feels Eddie’s small puffs of breath across his face. 

“You,” Eddie whispers but Steve hears it clearly. 

He takes a moment to bask in it, to let it wash over him before he responds.

“That’s good,” Steve tells him eventually and Eddie’s eyes are so wide and open, and so pretty, “because I dreamt of you.” 

He knows it’s cheesy so he doesn’t give Eddie time to respond, just leans in and closes the remaining gap between them. Slots their lips together. Eddie gasps into the kiss, grabs Steve by the hair, and pulls him in. Makes all these cute noises that make Steve want and want and want. 

He shifts, goes to put his leg in between Eddie’s to move on top of him and get a better angle. But he only gets halfway before Eddie grabs his hips and twists them around. Pushes Steve flat on his back and straddles him. 

He grins down at Steve. 

“You think the Scandinavian magic worked or was it just dream psychology and wishful thinking?” 

“Does it matter?” Steve asks, way too earnestly. But like, they’ve just spent this whole time doing some true love magic so he thinks it’s fine, “got what I wanted.” 

“It’s forever though,” Eddie points out, bending down to bite at Steve’s jaw, “if we believe the old Norse people.” 

Steve hears the question there, thinks this might be Eddie’s way of asking what this means to Steve. His way of telling Steve this isn’t just a hookup for him.

“God yeah,” Steve exhales, “I fucking hope so.” 

He feels Eddie smile into his neck and grabs his hair, uses it to pull him back and steer him into another kiss. 

[wheatnoodle]

modern steddie where everyone moves off and unless they live near each other, they don’t really talk as much as they used to. robin and steve of course live together in the city on one of the coasts.

robin, like the others, will reach out every now and then and chat with some people from the old group, get coffee when they’re in town. steve, however, has apparently dropped off the face of the earth.

he doesn’t text, doesn’t call, he’s not on social media, nothing. they’re hurt, yeah, but if that’s what he needs to heal, so be it.

but robin IS on social media. and she’s been posting these pictures for the past year and a bit of her and her “best friend” as her captions label them. it’s not steve. it’s a girl. a really pretty girl with these big brown eyes and long, wavy brown hair that she likes to throw blonde highlights in to. she’s got all these freckles and moles and wears the cutest dresses and sandals seemingly everywhere they go.

her name is evie, according to the tagged account evieinthesky. sometimes robin will throw a full “evangeline” in comments and captions.

the rest of the party have seen the photos of evangeline, they even ask robin if she wants to invite her out when they visit but she always has an excuse ready why she can’t.

but then robin gets a comment on a pic of her and evie.

eddieisdead: yo is your friend uhhh,,,🔓???