#steddie season 3

[disjointed-art]

Eddie was never the same after seeing Steve in the scoops uniform

[steviesbicrisis]

I was thinking about Steddie meeting in season 3 -you know, as you do- and I’ve realized that they had no other choice but to make Eddie arrive in season 4 otherwise the show would’ve gone extremely gay extremely fast.

There’s just no universe in which Eddie sees Steve in those shorts and doesn’t lose his mind.

[munsons-mutiny]

One of my favorite trope for Steddie is Steve hunting down Eddie when the kids join Hellfire and giving him a long list of dos and donts.

At first Eddie thinks he’s just being a prick, and worried he’s going to turn the nerds into freaks like him. Especially when he says not to mention drugs in front of Dustin.

But then he starts pulling out lists of monsters that can’t be in campaigns. And like what??? Why can’t he use demagorgons? They were gonna be in the next combat! He’s tempted to ignore the warnings, in fact he’s all set to, but something about Steve’s face when he was laying it all out haunts him. Something so deadly serious about it. So first he decides to test the waters to see if he’s full of shit.

When the session starts, he makes a throwaway comment, “you’re acting like there’s a mindflayer around the corner.”

All the kids freeze but Wheeler especially looks like he’s going to be sick. He even grabs at the bracelet around his wrist. The one he always said his best friend made him before he moved.

Eddie curses himself for even trying to test it out after that, and immediately bullshits the whole session so he can scrap any hint of demogorgans from the campaign.

After that session he drives straight to Harringtons house and demands they go over all the things he can’t include again, in detail, while he takes notes.

He doesn’t know what’s going on with these freshmen, but he knows trauma when he sees it and well he’d gotten attached to the gremlins.

When he leaves that night, he thinks Steve is looking at him with approval. Like he trusts him with their well-being now.

[lilpomelito]

i need a fic or something where steve tells eddie "hey you were a dick in high school too. jumping on tables and screaming at people who just want to eat their lunch about their conformism to the man or whatever was annoying as fuck. also why did lucas have to choose between a sport and your nerd game that's normal. people are multidimensional. I'm not alone in this, who wasn't a total dick at 16. where is your redemption arc mister."

[marriedtobigfoot]

Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

[2jihiir0]

what if Eddie had found them in the bathroom instead … 🍨🚽🌀♡ ̆̈

[steddiehyperfixation]

accidental eavesdropping (steddie ficlet)

based on this post by @imjust-that-shy. i hope i did this vision justice <3

The doors to the bathroom burst open, and - on some pure, inexplicable instinct and with nearly inhuman speed - Eddie darts back into the stall he'd just been about to come out of and leaps to perch on top of the toilet seat, crouched there like some sort of creature. 

He hears the sound of retching and the stench of vomit fills the air. He holds his breath, wrinkling his nose and trying to imagine what possible context could be behind Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley bursting in here together to puke their guts out. Eddie knows the two of them work together, he’s seen them sharing shifts at Scoops Ahoy when he's walked by. (Not that he often intentionally passes by the ice cream parlor and slows down just to catch a glimpse of Steve or anything… Although who could really blame him if he did? Like, come on, Steve in that uniform? Hello, sailor.) His mind is busy spinning stories of possible explanations, ranging from spoiled ice cream to sneaking alcohol and getting too drunk during their break. 

Eddie's leaning towards the 'drinking on the job' explanation, especially when the retching finally ceases and Robin says something about the room no longer spinning. Those little rebels, Eddie thinks approvingly.

“When’s the last time you, uh…peed your pants,” Steve is asking Robin now, in response to her telling him in a Russian accent to interrogate her. 

Eddie curls over his knees, tilting his head to try to peer through the gap between the stalls and the floor to put an image to his eavesdropping. Might as well, he’s kind of stuck here and there’s really not much else he can do right now. He can see Steve’s legs, one bent and the other stretched out in front of him, and Robin in the stall past him laying on the floor with her legs up against the stall wall as she answers, “Today…” 

“What?” Steve questions.

“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw!” Robin says. 

Okay…what? Russian doctors and bone saws? Eddie’s now thoroughly intrigued, if a little (okay, a lot) confused. Maybe they’re talking about a movie they watched or something.

Steve’s legs shake with his laughter. “Oh my god.” 

“It was just a little bit, though.” Robin pinches her fingers together as she twists her body in Steve’s direction while he laughs again and mutters that whatever it is they took is still in her system. She pushes her feet off the stall and slides to sit against the opposite wall. Eddie can only see her legs now. “Okay, my turn. Have you…ever been in love?” 

Steve answers that he has, with Nancy, and makes a sound mimicking an explosion. Eddie remembers that, remembers seeing Steve and Nancy being all touchy and cute in the hallways at school while he was trying his damndest to convince himself that he absolutely definitely did not wish he was in Nancy’s place. It didn’t work very well. And it’s not working very well now either as Steve starts to go on about some new girl he likes now instead - some girl who’s funny and smart and can crack secret Russian codes (okay, seriously, what is it with these two and Russians?) and oh shit, he’s talking about Robin. 

Eddie very suddenly feels like he should not be here listening to this, eavesdropping on Steve confessing his feelings for someone. Not only is that, like, a private and personal thing, but also what if Robin likes him back and they start kissing or something right here in this bathroom where Eddie has to sit here and listen to it and that would just be horrible for him for so many reasons and- Eddie’s getting ahead of himself. Robin hasn’t even said anything yet, and her knees are pulled up to her chest and her voice shakes when she confirms she’s still alive after Steve asks if she’s OD’d there in the silence and she uncurls with a deep sigh. All signs that she doesn’t actually like Steve back. 

Eddie watches as Steve shifts and slides under the stall into Robin’s, and catches sight of the nasty bruise marring nearly half of Steve’s otherwise beautiful face as he does so. Now concern has been added to the list of emotions this eavesdropping experience has rollercoastered him through so far. The bruise looks fairly fresh and Eddie can’t help but wonder what the hell gave Steve a black eye like that and if he’s okay. 

After a brief spiral of concern for Steve’s face, Eddie tunes back into reality to find himself staring at Steve’s ass as Steve now sits with his back against the stall wall opposite Robin. Eddie blinks, expands his tunnel vision to include Steve’s lower back and Robin’s legs which are also visible beneath the gap in the stalls. 

“It’s not because I had a crush on you,” Robin is saying. “It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Mrs. Click?” Steve sounds confused.

“Tammy Thompson,” Robin clarifies. “I wanted her to look at me.”

Oh. Eddie should really not be listening to this. Robin is trying to come out to Steve, trying to share something deeply personal and vulnerable with him and only him, not knowing that she’s outing herself to an eavesdropping near-stranger as well. Eddie feels violating and intruding. He can’t imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he barely knew had been secretly listening in on him coming out - probably not great, probably terrified. This is something he shouldn’t know, not like this. 

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl,” Steve says, his tone unreadable, and Eddie’s heart nearly stops, sure his own anticipatory anxiety is likely only just a fraction of what Robin must be feeling right now. 

“Steve…” 

“Yeah?” A pause. “Oh,” Steve’s voice goes soft. “Oh… Holy shit.” 

“Yeah,” Robin sighs. Eddie can see her hands nervously rubbing at her shins. “Holy shit.” 

Steve is silent for a few painfully long moments. Eddie’s hands curl nervously around his own shins. Is Steve going to be homophobic? Should Eddie be worried for Robin now? 

“Steve, did you OD over there?” Robin asks, trying to be light but Eddie can hear the anxiety in her voice. 

“No, I just, uh- just thinking,” Steve responds. 

“Okay…” Robin’s voice is barely audible. Eddie is holding his breath.

“I mean, yeah,” Steve says finally, “Tammy Thompson’s cute and all, but the only reason I never gave her the time of day was because I was too busy staring at Eddie Munson.” 

The aforementioned Eddie Munson releases the breath he’d been holding with an involuntary squeak and claps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, neither of them heard him over the sound of Robin shouting. “What?! Eddie Munson?! You liked Eddie Munson?” she squawks, voicing Eddie’s own stunned thoughts perfectly.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms casually, completely unaware that he's throwing an eavesdropping Eddie into an absolute crisis right now. There's a soft thudding sound like Steve's hitting the back of his head against the stall wall. His voice gets kind of wistful, almost dreamy, as he says, “His rings, man. Rings and tattoos…and that long hair and those chains he'd wear… Honestly just his whole punk aesthetic thing had me mesmerized.” 

“Pretty sure he's metal, not punk,” Robin corrects him. 

Thanks, Robin. Also, what the fuck is happening right now? 

“Whatever. Still hot as hell,” Steve says. 

Eddie squeaks again and practically shoves his whole fist in his mouth to keep himself from making any more noise, his teeth knocking against his rings. The rings Steve likes, apparently. He feels like he's going to pass out, his heart beating so erratically it's making him lightheaded. King Steve - the popular, preppy, stupid, gorgeous, dumb jock Eddie's been crushing on since forever - just called him hot????  

“Did you hear that?” Robin asks suddenly, voice low and cautious. 

Shit. 

“Is anyone else in here?” Steve calls out. 

Fuck. 

Eddie bites down hard on his knuckles and holds his breath, going impossibly still. If they get up and search the bathroom, then he’s about to be caught red handed, crouched on top of a toilet seat with his fist in his mouth and his face flushed scarlet, eavesdropping on their private conversation about secret Russians and gay crushes. Eddie contemplates falling into the toilet and attempting to flush himself down it. Every god imaginable is receiving a silent prayer from him right now as he watches apprehensively through the gaps in the stall. One of those gods must've heard and taken pity on this poor gay disaster of a man crouched like a goblin in a bathroom stall, because after a few horrible seconds of silence, all Steve does is lean down to peer beneath the stalls for a moment before sitting back up and saying, “Looks empty. I think the drugs are making us hear things.” 

“Yeah, probably,” Robin says. Then she giggles, knocking her leg against Steve’s. “I still can’t believe you were into Eddie.” 

Steve flicks Robin’s knee. “I can’t believe you were into Tammy.”

“What’s wrong with Tammy?!” Robin protests.

“What’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve counters. “At least he’s actually got talent. Tammy’s a total dud - she wants to be a singer and shit but she can’t even hold a tune.” 

Eddie is going to die. He is actually going to die right here, right now, because Steve Harrington thinks he’s hot and talented. And then Steve starts mimicking Tammy, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart in a ridiculously goofy voice, and now Eddie is going to die because he finds that so stupidly endearing and adorable. Maybe he should just flush himself down the toilet, save himself from this hopelessly pathetic crush of his. Instead, he’s saved by the bathroom doors bursting open again and a new voice shouting at them, “Okay. What the hell?!” 

Steve and Robin collapse into a fit of giggles before being dragged to their feet by the newcomers and led out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone and reeling and struggling to process literally everything he’s just overheard. He finally hops down from his toilet perch and exits the stall like he’s in a daze. He’s not sure how long he had been camped out in there - probably only about ten minutes - but it felt like hours, so long that the world outside of that single bathroom stall almost feels foreign and unfamiliar now. 

Eddie grips the bathroom sink and stares at his flustered reflection in the mirror and whispers to himself, “What the actual fuck?” 

---

Later, years later, only after he and Steve are already dating, Eddie tells him all about this experience, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly cries.

[hairmetal666]

It starts in Eddie's second senior year, close to the beginning of the semester. Eddie's in trig (again). He's good at math, but Mundy fucking sucks, always giving Eddie shit for breathing, or his shoes squeaking on the linoleum, or whatever, and he ends up with detention most days. So, he hardly ever shows and can't be bothered to do the homework, even though he knows the answers more often than not.

On this particular day, Mundy is in a bad mood, on Eddie's case way more than normal. In the heat of frustration, Eddie scrawls, "I fucking hate this class" on a scrap of notebook paper, and for reasons he can't begin to explain, leaves it folded on the window ledge. He doesn't think anyone will answer; fully expects the paper to be gone come morning with maybe another detention slip under his belt to show for it. He's a little flabbergasted, the next day, when the note is still there, and loses his mind a little when he sees the words "tell me about it" underneath his first message. He doesn't recognize the handwriting, sloping and a little looped, and for most of the class period, he's too bemused to respond. Right before the final bell rings he scrawls, "trig. You?" He leaves the paper on the ledge again. "Algebra 2 :(" is the response.

They keep it up, just a few words at first, before Eddie accidentally doodles on the page, and the other guy scribbles a hasty formula, the math spectacularly wrong. There's a little arrow leading to the words, "this shit sucks." Eddie re-writes the formula with the correct math, leaving careful notations of how and why. The next day he sees, "Shit, dude, I totally get this now. Mundy should retire and let you take over." Which pleases Eddie down to his core.

The messages get longer, nothing super personal, but complaints about life, math help, Eddie's silly little doodles, bad jokes, the slightly lewd drawings typical of teen boys. Eddie's never had a better attendance record in his life, but there are some days where his notes are left unopened. Most remarkably a couple week period before Thanksgiving, where he goes unanswered for so long he figures whatever thing they had going is done. But after the holiday, the notes start up again, with no acknowledgement they ever stopped. Eddie doesn't bother questioning it.

They keep it up almost all year, and they're definitely friends, even though they're totally anonymous. And that wouldn't have changed, except it's the day before spring break and Eddie's vibrating out of his skin with anticipation of the time off, so he forgets his dnd notebook in Mundy's class. He makes it all the way to Click's before he realizes, then sprints back across the school. He crashes through Mundy's door, tripping a little over his own feet.

"Sorry," he pants. "I just left--" he looks over to his desk, far corner right by the window, and then forgets every word he's ever known because Steve Harrington Steve Harrington King Steve, stares right back at him. And he just. He stops and fucking laughs, because all this time--this whole goddamn year--it's been Harrington he exchanged notes with. And sure, the jock's star has fallen in the last few months, with the breakup with Nancy and all that shit with Hargrove, but it's still Steve Harrington. With his big house and his fancy car and his girls. It's pretty Steve Harrington, the focus of Eddie's most hopeless daydreams.

He has a few seconds to see Harrington's hazel eyes go wide, before Eddie spins on his heel and makes a hasty exit. He absolutely doesn't spend the break thinking about the notes, matching what Harrington wrote with the gossip Eddie heard on him from the past few months.

Once break ends, he doesn't bother going to Mundy's class at all.

The Friday of the first week back, Eddie walks out to his van, only to find King Steve leaning up against it. He's doing that obnoxious thing where he has one leg bent, foot resting against the side panel, arms crossed over his chest, stupid hair falling in glorious cascades around his face. It's ridiculously, unfairly attractive.

"What do you want?" Eddie asks. He opens his front door without fully looking at Steve.

"Can we talk?"

Eddie snorts, "what could you and I possibly have to talk about."

Steve narrows his eyes. It's so bitchy and so fucking cute it makes Eddie queasy. "You know what."

"Enlighten me, Harrington."

"C'mon, man, the notes!"

"What about them?

"Don't be stupid, Munson, you know what. Why'd you stop?"

Eddie pulls a pack of camels and his lighter out of his jacket pocket. "Lost its appeal once I knew who was on the other side. Surprised you even want to keep it up now that you know you've been writing to the freak."

He pointedly ignores the little jolt Harrington gives at that, like the words hurt. Which is pretty rich from Steve Harrington, former #1 bully of Hawkins High.

"I've always known it was you," he says.

"You don't--wait what?"

I've known since, like, the first week, Munson."

"How??"

"What do you mean 'how,' dude, you're always drawing little pentagrams and d20's. Writing the word "Slayer" over and over. Who else would it be?"

And he can't even deal with the fact that Harrington knows what a d20 is (what the fuck) with everything else the other boy just said.

"I gotta go," is his only response. He ducks into his van, slamming the door basically in Harrington's face, before peeling out of the parking lot.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

It's the last day of school. Eddie's failed again. His grades, which weren't great to begin with, took a sharp nosedive after spring break, and he just can't wait to be done with this place for a few months. Harrington hasn't spoken to him again, and Eddie tries his hardest to ignore the other boy (aside from seeing him hanging out with Robin Buckley, a junior and a band geek, besides, and he forcibly has to remind himself that he doesn't care what Harrington does).

He slouches into his last math class of the year, slumping over in his seat. He rests his head on his desk, eyes blankly staring out the window as Mundy talks about what a joy most of them were to have in class. His eyes are unfocused, he contemplates a nap, and then he sees it. The tightly folded piece of paper resting on the window ledge.

Eddie almost doesn't take it. He almost ignores it, but he physically can't stop himself for reaching for it, unfolding it, staring at Harrington's now familiar handwriting.

Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me. Buckley helped me see how that maybe freaked you out a little. I know I used to be a piece of shit. But I'm better--or I'm trying to be. And I'm so fucking sorry for the shit I did to you before and the things I didn't bother to stop. You don't owe me forgiveness, but you should know that I regret all of it. I liked passing notes with you. You made me laugh, and I don't know. It was nice to think someone liked me for reasons other than that I'm Steve Harrington, or whatever. I'd really like it if we could be friends. I get if you can't do that or don't want to.

Whatever the note actually ended with is scribbled out in pen so thick Eddie can't make it out.

All day he thinks about the note, the apology, all of it. Eddie thinks, if he's smart, he won't forgive Harrington. That he knows better than to trust him. But Eddie's never actually been that smart in this way, so he's not totally surprised to find himself walking to Steve's car after the last bell rings.

This time, Eddie's the one with his foot resting on the side panel of Steve's BMW, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't have to wait long before Harrington makes his way to the car, chestnut hair dancing in the breeze, biceps on display in a short-sleeve polo. A little smile dances across his lips when he spots Eddie.

"So, you gonna tell me how you know what a d20 is, Harrington, or do I have to guess?" Eddie offers the other boy a cigarette.

"Babysitting?

"Babys--Are you serious??" Eddie splutters. Steve Harrington babysits. Steve Harrington babysits little dnd playing nerds. Steve Harrington wants to be his friend.

A full grin spreads across Steve's perfect face and Eddie is absolutely, 100%, fucked.

(Part 2)

(Steddie Notes is now posted in full on ao3!)

[finntheehumaneater]

I owe you a black-eye and two kisses (pt 2)

(Part one) (part three)

playlist | pinboard

more of my writing here

CW: smoking, language, some slurs

(Not everyone I tagged here asked to be tagged, but they did express interest in it, so let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in future parts)

Eddie tried to walk slower as Steve stumbled behind him, back to the parking lot off the back of the school where he had left his van. He felt kind of bad for Steve, but then again, this guy had always been an asshole to him. He didn’t know why it stung to watch his glassy eyes dart around the ground as he went, making sure he didn’t trip over anything.

He hopped over the curb and onto the concrete, holding his hand out to catch Steve as the guy practically fell over the small drop. And he said he had walked here? No wonder the knees of his jeans were all scraped up. 

Eddie’s cheeks heated as he awkwardly helped Steve limp over to the passenger’s door of the van. If he knew he would have been driving someone else, he would have at least tidied up a bit. It wasn’t that messy, but the blankets were bundled up on the mattress in the back, and the whole place smelled like cigarette smoke and whatever tea Wayne had left out on the counter for him when he woke up. He opened the door for Steve and watched as Steve clambered inside, wincing as he hunched over in the seat, hand on his stomach. He totally wasn’t only aware of that because he had been looking at the way Steve’s shirt clung to him too tightly. It couldn’t have been his. Steve didn’t look like the kind of guy to listen to Madonna. It probably belonged to some girl he was hooking up with.

Eddie walked over to the driver's side and grabbed a cigarette from the cup holder on the side of the door as he got in, holding it out to Steve. Steve hesitated, but eventually took it, and Eddie handed him the lighter, starting the car. Steve fumbled with it for a moment, and Eddie sighed, taking it from him and lighting the cigarette for Steve before putting it back in the pocket of his jacket.

He was mostly quiet as Eddie drove, which Eddie was thankful for. He didn’t need to listen to Steve complain about the state of his van or the empty cigarette boxes stuffed in front of the passenger seat—no one ever rode with him, save his uncle, who didn’t care how the van looked, as long as it still worked. Steve didn’t look like he hated this, though, because he was leaning against the window with his eyes closed, forehead pressed to the glass and his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. He looked almost at peace.

Eddie guessed it was probably because he knew he was going to be rid of him soon—back to his big fancy house with his big driveway and his nicer car. And just because he could, Eddie reached over to the glovebox, rummaging around the cassettes until he found one that he knew Steve was going to hate.

He put it in and tried to turn it down as quickly as he could, so that Steve could rest a while, because he did look tired—but Steve still jolted awake when it started.

“Sorry, sorry,” Eddie said lightly, finally turning the music down to a softer volume. He felt bad, which was weird. Because of course he had to be sympathetic towards the person who had called him a queer and a fag all his life—who had glared at him in hallways. He had never actually touched Eddie, but words still fucking hurt. It’s not like Steve was wrong, though. He was a fag.

Steve blinked slightly, and Eddie looked back at the road, hearing Steve sigh and go to touch at his face, but he winced. Eddie glanced over again, trying not to take his eyes off of the road for too long. It was kind of dark, now, and there wasn’t really anyone else out there driving, since it was a Saturday.

“You alright? I’ve probably got some pain killers in here,” Eddie muttered, turning a corner as slowly as he could so that Steve didn’t get jostled around too much.

“S’fine,” Steve muttered, but his voice was tight like he was about to cry again, and all of this felt too weird for Eddie. Steve Harrington didn’t cry, let alone in front of someone who he hated. Eddie pulled the car over and ignored Steve’s small noise of protest as he climbed into the back, rummaging around his bag for a minute, nearly tripping over one of the blankets.

“Do you sleep in here?”

Eddie’s head snapped up and he squinted slightly at Steve. “What?”

“In your van.”

“I have a fucking house,” Eddie snapped, glaring at Steve. “I’m not that poor.”

Steve flinched slightly, looking away, and Eddie went back to looking for the pain meds. Maybe he should just leave it and get back to driving. The sooner he could drop Steve off, the better. Still, he kept looking and eventually found them, grabbing the water bottle tucked away under one of the blankets. It was kind of warm, but it would have to do.

He tossed it to Steve and handed him the pill-bottle, climbing back into the driver’s seat and kicking the blanket off of his shoe as he sat back down, straightening out his hair. “There.”

He saw Steve nod as he took the pills, nearly coughing and spitting it back out, and Eddie reached over to pat his back slightly, sighing. “Jesus, Harrington, don’t choke.”

Steve coughed again, tucking his face into his arm, his eyes brimming with tears. “I-I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Eddie moved his hand, sitting back properly in his seat and turning the music up a bit now that he knew Steve was awake. He started to drive again, and Steve pressed a hand against his chest, taking a deep breath.

Eddie huffed. “What’s wrong now, hm?”

“Nothing,” Steve bit back, and there it was. The guy could only pretend to be nice for so long. “Just—don’t take me home.”

Eddie paused, glancing over at Steve again so quickly that the car swerved slightly, and Steve gripped into the armrest of the seat for a moment before Eddie looked back and straightened them out. “Don’t take you home?”

“Just—just drop me off here, okay? My parents aren’t there, and Robin’s parents aren’t letting her leave the house, and—a-and I can’t be alone right now. Please.” And fuck, Steve was practically begging, now, his hand gripping at Eddie’s shoulder in a way that hurt. He looked panicked.

Eddie forced himself to relax and gently pried Steve’s hand off of him, placing it on Steve’s thigh and patting it lightly. “Come home with me.”

“What?”

“Harrington—you can barely keep your eyes open, and you’re…you’re hurt. Stay the night with me. Wayne knows fuck-all about medicine, he can take a look at you, okay? And then in the morning I’ll drop you off at….?”

“Dustin’s,” Steve answered quickly. “Dustin Henderson.”

Eddie looked Steve over. He had heard talk that Steve had gone soft—stopped being such a bitch and actually treated people like people—but no way in hell was he going to believe that. Still, Eddie felt kind of bad about his appearance. His hair didn’t look as nice as it always did.

“Fine. But you’ll have to tell me how to get there.”

Steve nodded and Eddie pulled into someone else’s driveway—one of the nice fancy houses, but it didn’t look like Steve’s. Not that he would know what Steve’s house looked like. He had never been there. 

“And don’t piss Wayne off, okay?” Eddie warns, reaching over to shove Steve’s shoulder lightly, and Steve winces, but smiles slightly. “He doesn’t like me bringing people home. You’re lucky, sweetheart.”

“Am I?” Steve whispered, rubbing his shoulder slightly. He must have been pretty fucked up for that to hurt, Eddie thought to himself, looking back at the road.

“Yep. You can have the couch.”

“Mmm,” Steve hummed, leaning back against the chair. “This how you treat all your girls, Munson?”

“I would, but there are no girls,” Eddie replies, his voice almost too bitter, even though he knew Steve was joking. “But you already knew that. Right, Harrington?”

Steve shrunk into himself, nodding. He hesitated, before sighing and rubbing a hand over his bruised face gently. “I don’t—you have a bed in the back of your car. S’why I asked earlier. I didn’t mean to piss you off or anything. I was just worried.”

“Worried,” Eddie repeated, trying to make himself sound less pissed off, because Steve looked upset—and guilty—enough, and Eddie didn’t want to make him feel worse.

“Yeah. Thought your Uncle might’ve kicked you out, or something.”

Wayne wouldn’t have done that, but Steve wasn’t completely insane for thinking it. He and Eddie argued a lot—and it seemed to happen in public more than anything—so most assumed that Eddie would be out of the trailer within a few weeks, and he’d have to find someone else to bother. But then months would pass, and he’d still be hanging around. Wayne loved him, even if he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, really. He was the closest to family that Eddie had, now.

“He can’t get rid of me, even if he tried, Stevie,” Eddie said lightly, forcing a smile and a wink—and Steve smiled back, but his eyes were still glassy and his hands were shaking, his breath uneven.

“Okay.”

“This doesn’t mean we’re friends. Got that? M’just helping out for tonight, Alright? Tomorrow you’re outta here and we go back to hating each other.”

Eddie couldn’t help but notice the disappointment in Steve’s eyes as he glanced over again. The way he wiped at his eyes, agitating blood-dried skin. 

Steve nodded again. “Yeah. Alright.”

Hallo!!! So, part one got way more attention than I thought it would, so I wrote this super fucking fast because I was excited. I don’t know how many more parts this will have, but I do have a part three planned out :)

as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated! Thanks for reading! <3

@estrellami-1 @randombibitch @insteviewetrust @anne-bennett-cosplayer @hack-saw2004 @lolawonsstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @slowandsteddie @ellietheasexylibrarian @mugloversonly @littlebluejane @zombiethingy @steddie-island @rozzieroos @ohimamarigold @origamiplushie @mamafaithful @redhoodandhellfire

[metalhoops]

Read Part 1 Here

Eddie wasn’t sure how he managed it, but he had a boyfriend. 

He thought he had a boyfriend, at least. None other than Steve goddamn Harrington. They’d been on dates, plural. He wasn’t sure Steve was ready for the word ‘boyfriend’, but no one Eddie had dated was, so it felt the same as it always did. He got it. This was new for Steve. Hell, this was new for Eddie. 

He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for things to go bad. They were one month into whatever the hell they were doing and everything was still peaches and cream. From Eddie’s past relationships, he knew things always went south quick. People didn’t stick around. But he had a good feeling about Steve, against his better judgment. 

Things did go bad, but not in the way Eddie expected. 

The first and only ‘unofficial’ date the two had gone on was when Eddie stumbled across Steve, cruising at a beat of all places. The first time Eddie realised who the guy was he’d been shocked breathless and knocked back on his heels. Space and fucking time ceased to make sense because there was no way in hell The Steve Harrington, Mr Popular, ladies’ man was in a place like that. But he was. 

More shocking still, Eddie had fallen for him before he knew who he was. He’d been all red-faced and tongue-tied, trying to help Steve ride out the wave of panic that’d overcome him. Eddie still wasn’t sure what had him so shaken up that night, but the time had passed to ask. If it was important, Steve would tell him. 

Somehow, knowing the pretty guy he’d been making goo-goo eyes at all night was the same Steve he’d shared a history class with hadn’t changed things. Eddie had still wanted to take Steve home with him, even if nothing came of it. Eddie had his share of casual hookups. Enough to know it wasn’t what he wanted, but in a place like Hawkins, where the town borders were small and people’s minds were smaller still, you’d take the scraps that were given to you. 

Steve was different to how Eddie expected. They’d orbited each other in high school. Well, Eddie had orbited Steve. He kept his distance, but trailed in the boy’s wake, much to Eddie’s own dismay. For a dude who had a stick up his ass regarding the high school hierarchy, and jocks in general, developing a crush on Steve during his first go at senior year had been a devastating blow to his sense of self. Hell, the guy had been a thorn in his side for years, spurring on a mad case of cognitive dissonance every time he crossed his path. 

Eddie was constantly surprised at how easy it was to date Steve. Not that he’d expected dating Steve to be hard on his end, but dating guys always came with complications. In Eddie’s experience, it was never simple. There were always hoops to jump through, parents or friends who couldn’t find out. Not with Steve. It was equal parts, comforting and disconcerting. 

Steve’s parents never factored into the equation besides a couple of off-handed comments the boy made, which always left a vile taste in the back of Eddie’s throat. Steve never said anything that’d raise alarm bells to an unassuming ear, but if you knew what to look for, they were there. Eddie heard his father’s voice echoing back through the years when Steve would talk about his father. 

Steve wasn’t going to come out to his parents, at least not while he still lived under their roof, but they’d been out of town for months, so the Harrington house had become a refuge, as had the Munson’s trailer. 

Wayne was always working nights, not that he’d care if Eddie had a guy around. His uncle knew about him, and he’d rather guys come around to their place instead of Eddie sneaking out to make out with them in his van or in the back of some club. Wayne was understanding, the rest of the world wasn’t always. 

He hadn’t told Wayne about Steve. He hadn’t told anyone about Steve, not that he didn’t want to. He did. He just didn’t think Steve was ready. The guy was good at acting calm, but Eddie knew there was something bubbling beneath the surface. He’d act smooth and unbothered when they’d make out on the couch. Hell, he’d been willing to go to third base quickly for a guy who’d thought he was straight up until a few weeks before. Steve had been calm. He’d taken it in his stride.

It was the little things that did it. They’d been watching a movie together at Eddie’s place. He’d taken Steve’s palm into his lap and traced absentmindedly, hating to sit still for too long. Eddie paused as he felt Steve’s hand tremble beneath his fingertips. He looked at Steve and for once the boy looked rattled, seeming floored that someone had touched him so gently. Again, Eddie felt the old familiar ache. King Steve wouldn’t crumble just because someone was soft with him, right? No way. Not back then. Something must have happened, but that was the thing about them. Their pasts were their pasts. They had each other and that would have to do for now. 

It wasn’t until Eddie showed up late to Steve’s place that he realised they needed to talk about it. Sometimes, when Eddie was absorbed in something, the rest of the world fell away. He’d told Steve he’d come around to his place for dinner at seven. He’d been making notes for the latest Hellfire campaign. He’d decided the party’s latest ‘big bad’ was going to be none other than the dark wizard, Vecna himself. He’d been poring over lore to set up things just right for the long road ahead of them and he’d lost track of the time. 

It’d been a hell of a day for it too. A dark cloud had descended on the sleepy town of Hawkins, breaking the winter freeze early. The sky was dark and if Eddie thought about it, the lights had been flickering with the storm. When he emerged from writing, it was dark outside and the alarm clock radio by his bed read 12:05. Which definitely wasn’t the time. 

Shit. Eddie threw on a jacket, hit the gas and was pulling up to the Harrington manner in no time. The clock in his car let him know it was eight-fifteen. 

Eddie expected Steve to be pissed. He felt worse when Steve wasn’t. 

He let himself in without knocking. To his surprise, Steve hadn’t locked the door. He always locked the door. He’d shot up from where he’d been sitting stock-still at the dining room table as Eddie’s footfalls seemed to bring him back from where his mind had been. He looked at Eddie for a long moment. Eddie could wilt under the scrutiny of Steve’s gaze, his jaw set, his eyes scraping over every last inch of him. He’d sighed, looking all at once like a lost child, uncertain and vaguely ashamed. 

“I thought something happened,” Steve muttered. 

It set off all the alarm bells and red flags Eddie had been ignoring. When their new partner didn’t show up to a date, some people might think the worst, that they were being stood up or that their date had found somebody else but not Steve. He’d been worried something happened to Eddie. He’d looked the way he had when the two first ran into each other at the fairgrounds. Wide-eyed and on the verge of a breakdown. 

Eddie kept telling himself that whatever had happened with Steve wasn’t a big deal, because Steve kept telling him it and damn Eddie wanted to believe him. Being with Steve had been easy, but Eddie knew facing whatever the hell this was would make it harder. The signs had all been there from the start.  

The guy rarely slept, and when he did, it was fitful and filled with incoherent mumbling. He’d ball Eddie’s sheets between his clenched palms and whimper like a dog in a car during the midday heat. Eddie didn’t bring it up because he’d been right during their first night together. Steve was haunted by something goddamn awful and Eddie wanted so badly to do something that’d make it go away, but he also knew things were never that simple. 

“I’m fine. I just got caught up. It was stupid. I’m sorry I made you worry,” Eddie spoke when he found his voice. 

Steve was shaking. Shit. 

Eddie reached out and touched his hand, balled so tightly into a fist, his knuckles turned white. As Eddie slowly pried his hand open, he realised his palms were bleeding, his nails having made five deep, half-moon crescent wounds.

“Was it that dragon game? The little shitheads don’t appreciate how much effort you put into that stuff,” Steve spoke, almost sounding normal, seeming unaware of the blood, or the way his knees knocked together, the way his body swayed like a strong breeze would send him tumbling. 

Steve wanted to know about his stupid goddamn fantasy game and god Eddie wanted to take the out, he didn’t want to have to dredge up whatever unspoken thing that’d twisted Steve up, knowing it might just ruin what the two had together but in the end, it didn’t matter. Eddie would rather know Steve was okay. They could work out what they were after. 

“Stevie, what did you think happened to me tonight?” Eddie asked, holding the boy’s hand, and leading him to the kitchen sink. 

He wet a dishtowel and gently rubbed it over Steve’s palm. 

“The power went out,” Steve mumbled, as though that explained it all. Eddie tried to follow. 

“Yeah Stevie, there was a storm. Storms kinda do that. Did you think I’d run off the road or something?” He watched Steve’s jaw tense.

“The thought crossed my mind,” He confessed, and Eddie nodded, placing Steve’s palm to his cheek, nudging against it. 

“But I didn’t and I’m fine. We’re going to talk about this, okay? Maybe not tonight, but I want you to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. I’m your boyfriend, Steve. That’s what boyfriends do. They tell each other shit.” 

Steve’s eyes were suddenly on him again. Oh shit. Eddie had used the word, hadn’t he? That word was meant to stay in his head for another few months, at least. 

This is how you scare people away, Munson. You go too hard, too fast and you scare people away, but Steve had stopped shaking. 

He pulled Eddie in for a bone-crushing hug, holding him so tightly the man could hardly breathe. He felt Steve bury his head into the nape of his neck and holy shit, Eddie was so gone for this stupid jock. 

“Alright. Okay. Yeah. I’ll tell you about it, just not tonight,” Steve muttered, mostly to himself. 

Eddie wasn’t convinced, but he wanted to believe Steve. 

“Alright, not tonight.” 

The two stood together for a moment as another bout of rolling thunder cut the lights. Steve’s hands grasped at Eddie’s jacket. The silence felt loaded. Eddie needed to break it.

“You’re not weirded out I called you my boyfriend?” He asked, testing the waters, wondering how much back peddling he was going to have to do. 

“No, why?” Steve breathed, pulling back slightly, trying to work out Eddie’s features in the sudden darkness. It was just like the night at the fairground.

Eddie knew Steve better in the darkness than he did in the light. Steve, in the dark, seemed right. He was a figured silhouette, beautiful but inscrutable to Eddie. 

“It’s not too soon?” He watched Steve blink at him through the darkness. 

“I might have told Robin you were my boyfriend weeks ago,” Steve spoke hesitantly, his hand still ensnared in Eddie’s jacket. 

Eddie let out an exasperated laugh and pressed their foreheads together. 

“Oh, okay, cool. I was worried I was taking things too quick,” Eddie mumbled, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks, thankful for the darkness. Goddamn, he really had a boyfriend. 

“Life’s short,” Steve reasoned. It didn’t sit right. 

“Maybe for other people. I’m gonna live forever, baby. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” he teased, slipping his hand into the back pocket of Steve’s jeans. 

He didn’t know what happened with Steve but this seemed important. Steve needed to know he wasn’t going anywhere.

Though the world had a funny way of turning around to bite you in the ass. The next time Eddie missed a date night, Steve really goddamn needed to be worried. 

[mardyart]

911/firefighter!steve x dispatcher!eddie AU

[steviesbicrisis]

Listen, I just want Eddie to meet the gang in season 3.

He goes to scoops ahoy to torture Steve Harrington a little and maybe stare at his ass in those slutty shorts.

And he has a terrible opinion on the guy, maybe he gangs up with Robin on him, until he sees him with his children.

Because, how can you not turn soft when you see him interact with Dustin Henderson?

And I want him to go back to the mall and find Steve and Robin completely out of it, moving between stores with Henderson and another kid, and Steve’s face is fucked up…?

Eddie stops the weird group on their tracks and asks «what the fuck is going on?» and then turns to Steve, examining his face up close. Eddie is pissed, «who did this to you?»

«Fuck, you’re so hot» that’s all that Steve says, few inches from his face, before running to the bathroom with Robin.

Eddie is frozen on his spot, and completely red in the face, still looking at the corner where Steve disappeared to.

«I can’t fucking believe that guy! He can pull chicks even when he has been beaten by Russians?? During a war with an alternate dimension?? Completely high on drugs?? I fucking hate him» Henderson is extremely pissed as he runs behind them.

A while later, even after a battle with a huge and disgusting monster inside the Court Mall, alongside with a middle schooler with mind powers, Eddie would say that Steve Harrington flirting with him is the most remarkable thing that has happened to him that day.

…

Now. Somebody, for the love of God, can write this? Please and thank you.

[disjointed-art]

I never posted these guys finished!

Here’s the doodle page turned coloring style practice! They will all be stickers when I eventually open shop again :3

[themunsonhorrorpictureshow]

I don't wanna be pretty like a girl

I wanna be pretty like steve harrington on season 3

[very-feral-lesbian]

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 87

Part 1 Part 86

Mom’s hovering in front of the door, a knife in her hand, trying to get the rest of them to get away from the window. It’s not working. If anything, Max’s nose only presses more firmly to the glass with every request she makes.

Will’s hovering just behind her, desperate to keep Steve and Eddie in his line of sight. He can just barely see the wisp of a curl through the side window of the van, bouncing as Eddie moves around inside.

He squints, trying to keep the hair in sight as the movement becomes more erratic.

Will hears glass breaking just as he loses sight of Eddie entirely, wisps and all.

He rushes past his Mom, using the weight of his body to open the door, even as she stands in the way. It’s almost involuntary, a compulsion to follow the thread that Eddie’d pulled him by.

“Will, don’t!” she cries, but it’s too late. He’s out, and through.

Mike calls after him, too, and there’s the sound of tennis shoes stampeding out of the house behind him. Will only hopes he’s not leading them all to their impending doom.

Bodies slump into the driveway, none of them human. They’re like if the Demogorgon had followed a different evolutionary chain. Dustin would find it fascinating. Will just wants Eddie and Steve back.

Wayne’s still standing sentry, looking out across the street, waiting for more monsters to creep in from the darkness, Barbara by his side.

Shielding the entrance to the van, is El.

“El!” It’s Mike, because it always is. He sounds so genuinely elated that something curdles and dies in his throat. He swallows it down, hopes it decomposes in his stomach, so he never has to look directly at it. “You came!”

El smiles, happily at Mike, then around to all of them. “Of course.” She looks over at Max, and she’s frowning now, that way she does when she doesn’t understand something. It used to happen all the time. Now, it’s rare.

Will doesn’t care, can’t when Eddie’s too quiet in the van somewhere Will can’t see. He pushes past her, too.

There’s a misshapen, monstrous foot sticking out of the broken window. He stares at it for a second before swinging the door open. It wrenches the foot strangely, makes it crack and tear with the resistance of the door before it breaks free, black blood flowing like the thing’s still alive. 

It stays still. 

Will looks past it, and finds Eddie’s pale face.  

There’s glass in his hair, and his palms are bleeding where they’re held in front of him, but he’s breathing. Alive. And he’s looking up at El like she’s answered all his prayers. Will and Eddie have been sharing the same prayers from the same broken pews for so long that for a second, Will thinks Steve is back. 

He scrambles over the dead thing blocking his entrance. It’s cold against his palms, flesh barely giving as he crawls hand over feet atop it. But, Steve’s still just sitting there, blinking, Carol huddled into his side like he can protect her, even like this.

“Steve needs your help,” Eddie says, plaintive. Begging with both voice and unblinking eyes, gaze locked on El’s own until she breaks it to look at where Steve still sits, unbothered.

Her brow furrows, eyes squinting like she’s peeling off layers of skin and meat to get to whatever’s underneath. “He’s lost?” she asks.

Carol is squinting at El like the words aren’t clicking for her. She looks back to Steve, then back to El, brow furrowing with anger.

Eddie nods. Will clears his throat. “Not like last time,” he clarifies. “He’s here, but his mind isn’t.”

El nods, decisive. “I will help.”

“What the hell are you all talking about!” Carol demands, even as people scatter around her, setting up for El’s latest rescue mission. “He’s right there!”

She’s not looking at Will, though. She’s looking at Eddie like it’s all his fault. Still, when Steve doesn’t say anything, her lip wobbles as she turns and asks, “right Steve?”

He doesn’t answer, even as she calls again. Will looks away when she bites her lips, eyes wide.

It’s easier this time. They don’t have to break into the school, don’t have to find a pool. El just sits cross-legged in front of Steve on the carpet, careful to stay away from the broken glass and the dead thing. Mike covers her eyes with Wayne’s flannel while the man himself switches the radio dial until he finds one with enough white noise to satisfy.

He can’t quite tune out the murmured conversation between Eddie and Carol, though, no matter how hard he tries. Eddie explains, in clipped, emotionless words, that something, one of the monsters from the other place she’d just gotten a taste of, has taken over Steve. 

“But we’re getting him back?” she asks, voice shrill and breaking, contrasting with Eddie’s own even tone. A veteran to the newbie in the warzone. 

Will, suddenly, feels terribly old. 

“Quiet now,” El demands. 

Eddie looks away from Carol without answering. There is no answer to that question when they’re all subsisting off hope, and not much else.

“Tell him we’re coming, okay?” Eddie asks. He’s looking down at his own bloody palms now, like he can’t bear to look at their last bastion of hope and wait for it to flame and go out. 

“Ask ‘im how to stop the thing taking ‘im over,” Wayne interjects. 

Eddie’s lip wobbles. Will knows how he feels. He doesn’t want Steve to know, if he’s in there at all, that they don’t know what to do. Neither does Will. He wants to save Steve. He always wants to save Steve.

But, Eddie finally looks up, meeting Will’s eyes before nodding. The movement knocks a tear free, but his voice sounds clear when he says, “Ask him how we kill the fucker.”

El nods, shoulders settling as she reaches out to take Steve’s hand. The white noise blankets them all. Will settles down to wait. 

That’s what they always do, when Steve is dying: they wait. This time is no different. 

Part 88

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