#steve has a soft spot for lucas

[tennant-the-tigger]

Babysitter Steve: Distraction

After Two Day later:

Surprisingly, Lucas is most like Steve with playing basketball. And I think playing ball is a comfort and distraction that both jocks understand. 

Also Steve hates seeing one of his nuggets being sad. He wants a Mchappy meal with 6 mchappy nuggets. 

Erica | My Stranger Things Art

[steddie-there]

They don't acknowledge it.

When Steve and Eddie share a bed - which, after that first nightmare-fueled middle-of-the-night phone call a few weeks after spring break, that first quiet "Come over," happens increasingly often until there's hardly a night they can't be found together - they don't acknowledge it.

They don't talk about how, though they start on either side of the bed (a decent space between them if they're in Steve's, elbows knocking if they're in Eddie's), it only takes a few minutes of anxious wakefulness before they tuck themselves together, arms wrapped tight and legs tangled.

It's just an unspoken understanding that Eddie sleeps better with Steve's arms curled around him, that Steve can't sleep without his palm over Eddie's heart, the rhythmic proof that Eddie is still alive beating into his hand.

So they don't acknowledge it.

Not when Steve starts pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head as they settle in, or when Eddie begins bringing Steve's hand to his lips before placing it back over his own heart.

And they don't acknowledge it when it starts to bleed over into their waking hours. When sitting next to each other on the couch during movie nights becomes Steve leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder becomes Eddie curled up on top of Steve, their eyes trained on the tv but their fingers tangled together on Steve’s chest.

When Eddie's regular visits to Family Video start and end with a hug that lingers maybe a little longer than strictly necessary and Eddie drapes himself over Steve's back to look at something in the magazine he's reading and they aren't more than an arm's length from each other the whole time Eddie is there.

When Robin sends Steve a raised eyebrow stare across the diner table, Eddie pressed against his side in the booth opposite her. She kicks Steve's leg under the table when he doesn't respond and he kicks her back, raises an eyebrow of his own that says not now.

And so they don't acknowledge it.

They don't acknowledge it until the sleepover when the kids beg Steve and Eddie to stay downstairs with them, to not retreat to Steve's room, to actually be a part of the sleepover like Robin and Nancy whispering in the corner, like Jonathan and Argyle giggling by the fireplace. When the combined forces of Erica's, El's, and Max's puppy dog eyes have him grumblingly setting up another sleeping area for him and Eddie. When Eddie smirks at him and knocks their shoulders together and Steve shrugs with a grin of his own that says I've got a soft spot for my girls, so sue me.

They don't acknowledge it until, after those few minutes of laying still next to each other, Eddie rolls into Steve's arms and Steve presses his lips to the side of Eddie's head and Eddie tugs Steve's hand to his lips and Dustin, observant and tactful as ever, asks, "What, are you two, like, dating now?"

There's a beat of silence before several muffled thumps and Dustin's, "Hey, ow, that hurt, jeez, it was just a question," sound from across the room, both Will and Lucas having kicked him while El smacked his arm. Max's hissed, "You can't just ask people that, Dustin, what the hell," has Robin and Nancy stifling giggles behind their hands.

Meanwhile, after a stiff, frozen moment, Eddie turns to catch Steve's eye and quietly asks, "Are we - ?" at the same time that Steve murmurs, "Do you - ?" They pause, only to speak in sync again when Steve answers, "I mean - " and Eddie says, "If you - "

They pause, matching shy smiles on their faces. Eddie pulls a strand of hair over his mouth, hiding behind it, before taking a deep breath and answering both their questions. "Yeah," he says.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, and the hope in it has Eddie squeezing the fingers still in his grasp.

"Yeah," he says, smiling softly.

"Okay," Steve sighs happily. He pulls Eddie's hair aside, gently presses a kiss to the side of his neck.

Eddie leans into it with a happy sigh of his own. Then he calls across the room, "Hey, Henderson."

The whisper-fight across the room immediately stills as they all turn to Eddie.

"Yeah, we're dating."

For a moment, it feels like everyone is holding their breath, then Dustin says, "Oh. Okay," and Robin calls out, "Congrats, Dingus," and the conversation gradually drifts to another topic.

Steve pulls Eddie closer, nuzzling into the space between his shoulder and neck. Eddie turns, just a little, just enough for Steve to lean down and kiss him, soft, chaste. Eddie leans into it, presses their foreheads together when they part, then settles back into Steve's hold.

"Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Steve."

Tomorrow, they both know, there will be more to say. Questions to answer. Explanations to give. But, for now, this is all the acknowledgment they need.

[mrvlbimbo]

You mean nothing (everything) to me

Eddie Munson x reader

SMUT SMUT SMUT WARNING

4.3k words

She was already having a bad day at work when Mike and Dustin had so rudely bursted through the door of the video shop. The first thing she thought was that they should be at school but then she reminded herself of her own highschool days and she felt more forgiving. “I’m not giving you guys any more rated r movies. My boss had my ass for it last time,” she barked at them as they perused the shelves, clearly trying to build up the courage to ask her something. 

“We need a different type of favor actually.” She tried to wrap her head around what Dustin might have been implying. Sure a lot of highschool kids asked her to buy them alcohol and such and she would be lying if she said she never obliged them. 

“So we have this DND group,” Mike added and she almost laughed. Of course this would be about Eddie Munson and his stupid fucking DND cult. 

“Yeah yeah, with Sinclair. Where is he anyways?” she asked, referring to their other friend who was part of the club as well. She kept up with the kids due to her best-friendship with their resident babysitter Steve Harrington. And because of that she knew that Lucas had a basketball game that night and that’s likely why they were pleading with her to join. 

“So that’s why we’re here.” Mike introduced the idea with the amount of elegance she would expect from a Freshman in highschool who played DND in his freetime. He wasn’t convincing in the slightest but she allowed the two boys to continue with their pitch.  

“He bailed. We need an extra for tonight.” Dustin brought a reason to the table, seemingly the more logical one of the two.  

“Ask Harrington,” she shot back, presenting them with their first alternative. Also presenting her with an out so she wouldn’t have to see the infamous leader of their little club.  

“He has a date,” Dustin replied smugly, knowing he had caught her in a bad spot.  

“And you assume I don’t.” It was matter of fact. She stated that she had other things to do and that their excursion wasn’t worth her time. She was interested to see how they would respond. 

“What you do isn’t considered dating,” Mike scoffed and she thought about smacking him in the side of the head. She decided against it since she was at work, and on her boss’s last nerve.  

“Don’t be an ass. You’re too young to be talking about all that crap,” she replied sternly, reminding them that although she was a cool adult she was still an adult.  

“So you’ll be there?” He asked, knowing it would be better to ask her a yes or no question than drag on and let her avoid the offer until she was able to coax them out of the shop. 

“Yeah. Fine.” She had a soft spot for the kids so it was a no-brainer that she would help them out even if it was really inconvenient and uncomfortable for her. 

She went home and changed into something nicer. Even after everything she was still trying to impress Eddie, some things never changed. It’s not like he would care, or more likely he’d make a snide comment about her outfit and then ignore her for the rest of the night. 

Her assumption was right, his first words when she walked through the door were a comment about her promiscuity. “You brought the school slut into my sanctuary?” He was as rude as ever, still sporting that ridiculous haircut that she’d never admit to liking. 

“Former school slut. I graduated, unlike you,” she snapped back, trying not to show that it hurt her. This game they had been playing for years only worked if he thought she hated him too, she couldn’t even think of how much worse it would be if he knew the truth.  

“You don't have to rub it in. Plus I don’t have the advantage of sleeping with my teachers for grades.” He knew it wasn’t true but he said it anyway to get under her skin. He couldn’t help himself when that familiar scowl crawled over her face, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think it was cute. 

“I never- whatever lets just get this stupid shit over with.” She stumbled over her words as she tried to remind herself why she was here in the first place. Partly because she wanted to help her favorite freshmen and partially because she was a bit of an emotional masochist. 

The campaign dragged on as far as she was concerned, her character dying early into the final boss battle. Eddie spared no opportunity to make a dig at her at any given chance, making the whole thing even more unbearable. 

She also didn’t miss the way, despite claiming to hate her, he wouldn’t take his eyes off her. Men are like that, wanting to fuck the very thing they’re dispise. Although, she liked to think anything with a brain wanted to fuck her. And most of the time she was right. 

This was one of those times. 

By the time the campaign was over, he was half hard from her leaning over the table in her unbearably low cut shirt. If he was a prude he might have suggested she cover herself up in the presence of the freshmen. 

But he wasn't a prude, and he was quite enjoying the view down her shirt. A red lacy bra peaked out from the neckline when she bent down to pick up the dice. He regretted the way he reacted, voicing his frustration in pointed insults and taunting just like he did when they were in school. 

When everything was done, he just needed to go home and rub one out in the shower. The shame would set in later, just like it always did. He had had his eyes on her for a while now and nothing was worse than the embarrassment of her obvious disinterest. From what he had heard, she had been with practically every guy in their small town. Except for him. 

For some reason she never turned her sights to him. At first he tried to be nice, the way other guys never were. They saw her as a sure thing, never respecting her. He didn’t want to do that to her, take what he wanted and rush off to brag about his conquest.

Embarrassingly, he actually had a really serious crush on her for all of highschool. He stills remembers the day they met, she sauntered into his biology class fifteen minutes late and sat down on top of his desk. 

“Can I help you, miss?” the teacher had asked sternly. 

“Not unless you can get me a pack of smokes, ma’am.” She hopped off the desk and stepped in front of the class, plucking a piece of chalk up and writing on the board in big letters. Bullshit. She wrote ‘bullshit’ on the chalkboard and then she promptly strutted right back out of the classroom, shooting him a wink as she left.

They became quick friends after that, taking solace in the fact both of them hated everything about the stupid small town. For the first two years of highschool they were inseparable. Things changed once she made a reputation for herself. It started with one guy blabbing his mouth and then another. It’s not like everyone wasn’t doing it, but people latched onto her as the town whore probably because of her unconventional attitude. 

It made her more popular. For all the wrong reasons, but still it was nice to have people pay attention to her. Everyone wanted to have something others wanted and she certainly did have that. 

She took pride in her looks, utilizing revealing clothing to enhance her already considerable assets. From what he could see, that hadn’t changed. That night she wore a tight, low cut, cropped t-shirt and a denim miniskirt that barely covered her ass. 

Her beat up high tops tapped on the floor as she walked over to him. When the boss battle was over he had drifted into his own thoughts as the rest of the group dispersed. She hadn’t gone yet, he assumed it was so she could deliver some heart wrenching insult before she left and never thought about him again. It wasn’t that easy for him, he never stopped thinking about her. 

“Oh my god you’re high. You fuckin junkie.” Her voice cut through his trance like a knife. She was always so mean but her voice sounded so pretty to him, it was giving him whiplash. 

“I’m not high, I'm just thinking.” He was quick to correct her, wanting her to know he was completely sober for what he was about to say. 

“About?” she scoffed, making it clear she didn’t think highly of his intelligence. 

“Why do you hate me?” As soon as he asked the question he knew it was a bad idea but he couldn’t help himself. He spent so many nights asking himself that question, it was high time someone else had to answer it. 

“Are you seriously asking me that?” she snapped, anger bubbling over. It had been simmering all this time, and him acting like she was the reason there was a divide between them was just the final nail in the coffin. 

“Yeah, after you ignored me for three years for no reason. I wanna know why you hate me.” His voice was frantic and upset, he didn’t know what his plan was but he wanted answers and he had her here now. It’s not like there were any remaining bridges to burn anyways. 

“Oh because you were so friendly,” she replied sarcastically, referring to the way he had relentlessly mocked and criticized her publicly after their friendship ended. She could handle other people talking about her behind her back, but he said it to her face and it stung. 

“I was confused. We were best friends and then-” he tried to defend himself but she quickly interrupted, seething at him trying to play the victim. 

“Yeah we were. We were best fuckin friends and then you ruined everything.” Her voice sounded venomous, he flinched when she raised her voice just from the pure anger she radiated. 

“What?” he asked dumbly. 

“Junior year, winter formal,” she stated, as if it was supposed to mean something and It did mean something to both of them.  

He remembered that night like it was yesterday. The dance was boring, they dipped after less than an hour and went back to her place. Her parents weren’t home so they decided to set up in the basement for a horror movie marathon. 

She was scared out of her mind, or maybe he was. Either way they were curled up in eachothers arms, hiding from whatever monster was under the bed. After a particularly scary scene, she had crawled into his lap. He had thought maybe after all this time, he was finally going to get a chance with her. 

His hands went to cup her waist, gripping the fabric of her dress in between his fingers. She was wearing a puffy purple cocktail dress with glitter. It looked stupid, well it would have looked stupid on anyone else. Because he thought she looked absolutely perfect. And he looked at her like she was the most beautiful person in the world. 

She noticed the way he stilled, looking up at him in turn. “Eds, what's wrong?” He didn’t reply, not knowing the words to finally tell her how he felt. The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. And for a second he thought she was going to kiss him, his hands tightened on her waist in anticipation. 

But instead of what he expected, she shrunk back and mumbled something inherently. She made some excuse about being tired and shut off the movie, ordering him to go home. Nothing was said at the time, but he knew something was wrong. And based on the fact she completely ghosted him after that night, he was right. 

“Yeah I remember.” He shook his head as if he was trying to shake the memory out, but like so many times before it didn’t work. 

“The way you looked at me,” she added. He knew exactly the look she meant. It just hurt him more to realize the reason she rushed out that night was that she found out about his feelings. He had always assumed but having proof was harder somehow.  

“You haven’t spoken to me in years because of a look?” he asked, he was angry but more than that he was just sad. 

She wasn’t buying it. “No. It wasn't just any look. I know that look. That was the look of a guy who wants something.” That something she was referring to was obviously sex. So maybe he was in the clear, she hadn’t figured out about his feelings. The worse option that seemed to be reality, was she thought he was only friends with her because he was attracted to her. 

“OK, is that such a crime?” he asked, not believing that they couldn’t have replaired their relationship from that with a mature conversation. Although, they were not having many mature conversations back at the age of 17. 

“All that time. I thought you cared about me. And what, you were just playing the long con for a quick fuck?” 

“Ok fine, I’ll admit it. In that moment, yeah I wanted to fuck you.” He should have told her that a quick fuck was absolutly not what he wanted but he was picking up on her anger and mirroring it. 

“And now?” she asked, knowing exactly how to push his buttons even after all these years. 

“Now? Yeah now I still do,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal. And maybe it wasn’t. Things were different now, they were both adults and they were no longer friends. They could fuck no strings attatched, and that idea was starting to look enticing to them both. 

“And the fucked up thing was. I almost did it. Because I liked you Eddie. I really liked you.” She couldn’t hide the way her lip was quivering as she spoke. She was angry but not with him anymore, she was angry with herself for letting him make her feel this. So in a roundabout way she was still mad at him too. 

“Why didn’t you?” he questioned, still miffed by the whole ghosting him for three years thing. But she had said it, she liked him all those years ago. Not anymore, he thought. It didn’t matter now, if anything it just made the whole thing sting more. 

“Because I knew it wouldn’t mean to you what it meant to me,” she finally admitted, stepping close to him so they were almost chest to chest. She looked up at him with something close to longing and he almost choked. 

“And now?” he asked. There was a weird sort of sexual tension in the air that neither of them knew how to confront. 

“You mean fucking nothing to me,” she hissed. 

“Good,” he whispered, grabbing her face and pressing their lips together harshly. There was no affection in the way he kissed her at first, just rough lust and anger. Both of their pent up feelings spilled out as they grappled at each other's clothes for something to hold onto. 

His hands smoothed over her legs, rucking up her skirt so he could squeeze her ass. He snapped the band of her underwear, it was a lacy red to match her bra. “You wear these for me?” 

“Would I have needed to?” she teased, knowing by the way his hard on pressed against her that he didn’t need any extra encouragement. 

“No. You’d still get me all riled up in a winter coat.” it was one of his ridiculously cheesy lines that she was sure he used on plenty of girls. But she couldn’t help but smile at it a little despite herself. 

“How romantic,” she scoffed, pushing him back into a chair and sinking to her knees. Her hands ran up his thighs, kneading at the muscle covered by his ridiculously tight jeans. 

She palmed him over the fabric, squeezing somewhat harshly. He didn’t mind one bit. “Fuck. Romantic isn’t the word I would use.” He especially didn’t mind when unzipped his pants and took him in her mouth. She wanted to say something about him going commando but she was a bit preoccupied with him brushing the back of her throat. 

“Mmm,” she replied, whatever words she was saying were muffled by his cock in her mouth. 

“Harrington is one lucky bastard,” he commented offhandedly, not thinking about his words since he was currently being deepthroated.  

She pulled away instantly, as if she had been burned. She stood over him, something she wasn’t usually able to do since he was quite a bit taller than her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” she snapped, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look up at her. 

He whined when her sharp nails dug into the flesh of his chin. It wasn’t a pained whine, his arousal at her roughness was evident in the way he twitched in his seat. “Nothin. Sorry.” Based on his public persona, she hadn’t expected him to be the submissive type. Not to say she wasn’t enjoying it. 

“No Eds. You said something, why don’t you tell me again?” she demanded, taking pleasure in the way he reached for her with grabby hands as she stood there glaring at him. 

“I heard rumors about you and Harington, if it’s true he’s a lucky guy. It was a compliment, honest,” he rambled, desperate for her to forgive him and get back to touching him where he needed it. 

“You wanna know something?” She climbed into his lap, straddling him with ease in the large throne-like chair. When she first walked in she thought the chair was absolutely absurd, but now she was grateful for its width. She wrapped one hand around his neck as she leaned forward to  whisper in his ear. “I never fucked Steve. I never wanted to.” 

“No?” he choked out, having a difficult time talking due to her gripping his throat tightly in her hand. He wouldn’t ask her to stop in a million years though. 

She pressed little kisses all around his cheeks and jaw, never touching his mouth with hers. This might have upset him if he wasn’t too blissed out to notice with her lacey panties pressed tight against his cock. “All those years. I only ever wanted you.” 

He nodded furiously, as if to say to ‘me too, i’ve been in love with you since freshman year.’ But that's not what she interpreted it as. She grinded down on him, squeezing his neck and biting a line up his neck. “Lookit you. Can’t even talk,” she cooed. 

She removed the hand abstracting his breathing so both of her hands could cup his cheeks. “Gonna be good for me?” she asked, her overly sweet voice almost taunting him. He cringed at the fact she would never be this nice to him if he wasn’t about to stick his dick in her. 

That made him understand what she was feeling a little bit better. All those years ago, when he was prepared to tell her he loved her, she thought all he wanted was her body. And she used to like him, he had said it. Now it was too late and all he got was some mindblowing sex to give her closure and make him fall even deeper under her spell.  

And so his heart was heavy when she pushed her panties aside and slid down onto his cock. That didn’t make it any less pleasurable when she clenched around him. He felt like he was going to pass out, barely catching the praise spilling from her mouth. “Fuck, Eds. We shoulda done this ages ago,” she moaned, carefully picking her hips up and bringing them back down slowly. 

“Yeah,” he agreed lazily, letting his hands fall to her waist and rub little circles on the skin there. She went slow which he appreciated, deep slow thrusts that made both of them shiver. His heartache had faded, realizing he would be content to only be one of her conquests. He would be anything she wanted if she kept looking at him like that. 

Her eyes were glassy and filled with lust. She was usually so sharp but she looked content and peaceful for once. She looked beautiful. He brought one of his hands up to the back of her hair to smash their lips together again. 

It was aggressive and messy, his tongue fighting to engulf every bit of her mouth. She giggled when he pulled back and kissed her again on the tip of her nose. “So pretty,” he murmured. He could've sworn his heart stopped when her walls fluttered around him at the praise. 

“Eddie,” she gasped out when he finally brought his thumb down to circle her clit. He wasn’t as experienced as her but he knew his way around, both from porn and from a few hookups where he insisted on practicing that specific skill. None of his sexual interactions could top this, being balls deep in any other girl wouldn’t even compare to the way she said his name. 

“Can’t leave my girl hanging,” he teased as she moaned into the skin of his neck, forgetting to move her hips for a minute due to his fingers distracting her. 

She chose to ignore the fact that he called her his girl, she could deal with that later. What she couldn't deal with later was the fact he was very clearly close to his orgasm. He had noticed as well, speeding up his pace on her clit and using his other hand to tweak one of her nipples. “Shit. I’m close. Gimme a sec, I’ll get you there.” 

She chuckled softly at his insistence. Her eyes were filled with admiration or something of the sort. He almost came right there, he could handle her fucking his brains out but something about her being soft with him was what really got him going. “Don't look at me like that. I won't last.” 

“You don't have to. Cum inside me. Please.” She was coming close to her peak as well, his talented fingers working wonders at ‘getting her there’ as he had phrased it. 

Her offer was all it took for him to spill inside her. The thick ropes of cum pumping into her along with his lips on her neck forced her over the edge as well. 

Usually after such exertion she would flop down onto a soft bed and bathe in the bliss of it all for a moment. However, they were in a tricky position so she just kind of sat there awkwardly staring at him. 

It wasn’t as awkward for him. From where he was standing, or sitting would be the correct term, he had just had the best sex of his life and the girl he’d been in love with for six years was filled with his cum and sitting on his dick and keeping it nice and warm for him. “Fuck. I love you.” That shook her out of her post orgasmic haze instantly. 

She shook her head, not looking at him as she started to cry. It was abrupt and he was worried he had done something seriously wrong but he continued because he needed her to know how he felt. 

“You meant everything to me back then. You still do,” he admitted, his hands cupping her cheeks so she would look at him with her tearfilled eyes.  

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded, begging him not to get her hopes up but he brushed her off like it was nothing.  

“It’s true. I love you,” he repeated, this time with more meaning and passion if that was possible.  

“Eds,” his old nickname slipped out of her mouth so easily. It hurt to hear the way she said it. Like she was cautioning him against continuing his confession, or almost like she was pleading. 

“That night at junior prom, I wasn’t trying to fuck you. I was going to tell you about how I felt.” When he said that, all the puzzle pieces finally fit together in her head. But she had been telling herself for so long that he could never feel that way about her, it didn’t even compute that he was confessing his love for her over and over again. 

“We’re not even 20. You can’t really think this is anything more than teenage hormones.” She was always cynical. He loved that about her but it was getting damn frustrating. 

“You tell me? Do you love me?” he asked, finally turning the question back around at her. She was never a good liar. 

“I can't-'' she tried to avoid the question but he cut her off. 

“You’ve got my heart in your hand and I’m just asking you to break it. Do you love me?” She never realized how poetic he could be. He was always teatricial, but never like this. It made her think for a second that maybe he was serious. 

Screw it, she figured. Why not? “Yeah. I do. I love you.” 

He could already feel his dick hardening again at that admittance. And she could likely feel it too since he was still situated inside of her. “This isn’t going to sound very romantic, but do you want to go back to my place?” he asked hesitantly, way too timid for their current position.  “Yeah I’d like that,” she replied before kissing him softly. It was slow and sweet, like they had all the time in the world. Because they did.  

[steveseddie]

green and yellow

rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 2,270

tags: eddie munson lives, and he graduates!, established relationship, fluff, soft boys, steve harrington is smitten

for the @steddielovemonth “love is watching them do the stupidest things and falling harder for them every time”

click here to read on ao3

***

Steve is grateful when Principal Higgins finally ends his boring speech and steps down from the podium.

He started dozing off halfway through it, and he could feel the kids starting to get restless next to him, impatient for the moment they’ve all been waiting for.

The first one comes when Higgins calls Robin to the stage. Steve stands up and puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles, while the kids clap and hoot and cheer. Further up front, Mr. and Mrs. Buckley clap for their daughter too, but in a more subdued manner.

Robin climbs the steps to the stage, tripping on the very last one but catching herself just in time before she faceplants. Her face is bright red as she accepts her diploma, but she’s grinning widely. She makes eye contact with Steve and waves frantically, Steve gives her two thumbs up and an enthusiastic smile. After she walks back to her seat, Principal Higgins starts calling more names. Steve sits back down, but still claps politely for all those kids that he’s seen around town, but doesn’t really know.

When it’s Jason Carver’s turn though, Steve doesn’t clap and neither do any of the kids. He glares at him as he makes his way across the stage, grinning and waving as if he hadn’t attacked Lucas months ago or tried to get Eddie arrested or killed, and later on, expelled from school when the charges were dropped. Clearly, only Steve and the rest of the party hold a grudge because everyone else in the gym claps for him, making Steve’s blood boil.

After a few other names are called, Principal Higgins makes a special mention to Chrissy and asks for a minute of silence. Steve’s eyes scan the first few rows where the class of ‘86 sits in their caps and gowns, looking for Eddie, knowing that Chrissy’s mention would probably have upset him.

He spots his messy bun tucked under his cap. He can’t see his face, but he can see the way he’s tugging on one of his earrings, which Steve has only ever seen him do when he’s feeling very anxious. He wishes he was sitting next to him or that he could at least meet his eyes to let him know he’s here.

The tugging stops when Principal Higgins moves on and calls more names. Finally, he calls Eddie’s.

Steve and the kids don’t let there be even a second of silence, they all jump to their feet as soon as the name is called and give Eddie an ovation as big and loud as the one they gave Robin. Not as many people from the crowd join in, a few strangers here and there and Eddie’s uncle at the front, but it doesn’t matter. Eddie’s grin is blinding when he jumps onto the stage. Steve suspects there might be more than a few people glaring at him in the audience, giving him nasty looks, but no one could be able to tell by looking at Eddie who waves and bows and throws kisses at the crowd like they all came here to see him.

Principal Higgins hands him his diploma with a pinched face. Eddie takes it and Steve holds his breath. Next to him, he hears Dustin whisper, “do it, Eddie, do it!”

And almost as if he’d heard Dustin, Eddie raises his right hand and gives Principal Higgins the middle finger with the most manic grin Steve has ever seen on his face.

“Son of a bitch did it!” Dustin says, throwing a fist in the air and another wave of hoots and cheers starts in the back of the gym. Steve has half a mind to scold Henderson for his language, but he lets it slide, joining in on the cheering with another two-fingered whistle.

But the Eddie Show isn’t over yet, if there’s one thing that Eddie’s good at is giving a performance. He runs to the podium, grabs the microphone and uses it to address the crowd with a, “So long, suckers!” before dropping it on the floor, doing a dramatic curtsy and jumping from the stage. He runs all the way to the back, people’s heads whipping around to stare at him. Steve sees more than a few horrified looks, but there are also people trying to hold in their laughter.

Steve’s eyes don’t linger on them, they follow Eddie as he skips through the chairs. He knows that no one in that gym is looking at him the way he is- with literal hearts in his eyes.

Eddie finally reaches them, sitting in the very last row because by the time they arrived (late because herding a gaggle of teenagers never gets any easier) it was the only place with enough free chairs to sit all of them.

Eddie ruffles each kid’s hair, one by one. Even Max’s, who in any other circumstances would bite his head off for it, but not today. She’s grinning just as big as the others.

When Eddie reaches Steve, the last one of their group, he’s expecting to get the same treatment, and he sighs inwardly, thinking about all the time he spent on his hair this morning. But instead of messing it up like he did with the kids, Eddie cups Steve’s cheeks in his hands and stands on his tiptoes to plan a kiss to Steve’s head. By the time he falls back on his heels and lets go of his face, Steve’s cheeks have turned the brightest shade of red. Eddie winks at him, then he faces the audience one more time, throws up his devil horns and runs out of the gym.

With Eddie gone, Steve sees people’s eyes shift to him and his face flushes even more if that’s even possible.

He’s grateful when Principal Higgins picks up the microphone and asks everyone to take their seats again so they can continue after that rude interruption.

Steve flops down on his chair, but he can’t focus after that. His face feels like it could burst into flames any second and he swears he can still feel Eddie’s lips against his head.

A part of him wishes Eddie kissed his lips instead, even if, realistically, Steve knows that it would’ve been suicidal to do that in front of so many people. But who cares? He thinks. Just another way to say fuck you to this shitty town.

Steve only pays attention when Higgins calls Nancy’s name, near the end, and then he’s cheering and clapping and whistling again as she gracefully crosses the stage and picks up her diploma.

Shortly after that, Higgins asks the crowd to give it up one more time for the class of ‘86 as they all toss their caps into the air.

Steve’s eye catches something green on the floor almost right in front of him. It’s Eddie’s cap, which probably fell off his head from all his jumping around. He picks it up and tucks it under his arm.

Once the ceremony is over, everyone starts heading to the front to congratulate the students.

Steve hangs back. Robin is currently congratulating the rest of the band kids that graduated with her and he can see her parents waiting to smother her with a hug. Nancy is nowhere to be seen, probably taking the time to congratulate everyone in her class because she’s nice like that. Steve can give them a big hug later, as well as the bouquet of flowers he got for each of them.

For now, he has something to do.

He slips through the doors of the gym and goes looking for Eddie.

He finds him right outside the school, leaning against one of the walls with a lit cigarette between his lips. He’s staring down at his diploma so hard that he doesn’t notice Steve.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be smoking on school grounds,” Steve says, walking over.

Eddie’s face lights up when he sees him, he grins at him with the cigarette dangling from his lips. “What are they gonna do? Expel me?”

Steve shrugs. “Higgins could take your diploma.”

“Over my fucking dead body,” Eddie says, but he snuffs out the cigarette anyway after taking one last hit. “Do you think he enjoyed the show?”

Steve snorts. “I’ve never seen someone’s face get so red, I thought he was gonna pop a vein.”

Eddie gives a bark of laughter. “What about you, Harrington? Did you enjoy it?”

“It was quite the show, Munson.”

He does a flourish with his hand, hinging at the waist. “I’m glad it pleased your Majesty.”

“It wasn’t just me. I’m pretty sure the kids worship you right now. They might be already planning to build a statue in your name.”

“Oh the people of Hawkins are going to love that,” Eddie says with a snort. Then his gaze falls on the cap in Steve’s hands. “Hey, is that mine?”

Steve nods. “You forgot it inside. When you were making your grand exit,” he says, twirling the cap on his finger like he would a basketball. “Can I?” He asks, gesturing at Eddie’s head.

Eddie grins. “Go for it, handsome.”

Steve nearly drops the cap when Eddie calls him that, but he doesn’t. He gently places it on top of Eddie’s head. When he does, Eddie blows out some air, making the tassel flutter. “You also forgot to do this,” Steve says, flipping the yellow tassel from the right side to the left. “There. Now you’ve officially graduated.”

He expects Eddie to make a joke or do a silly face, but instead he goes still, his eyes following the tassel as it swings back and forth. Then he says quietly, “It doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I feel like nothing that happened after the Upside Down is real. Like I died there or I fell into a coma, and this isn’t really happening.”

Steve grabs Eddie’s shoulders, he waits until Eddie meets his eyes to talk. “It is, Eds. All of it. You lived and you graduated and you showed everyone who ever doubted you that they were wrong.”

Eddie swallows thickly. His eyes dart over Steve’s face. “Sometimes you don’t feel real either. Sometimes I can’t believe that you-”

“That I love you?”

Eddie’s eyes widen to the point Steve thinks they might pop out. “You- what?”

Steve didn’t plan to say it right now. He wanted to wait until it was just them after the party that he’s throwing for Eddie and the girls at his house. He wanted to make it romantic. But it’s like he can’t help himself, the words bursting out of him.

“I love you, Eddie. And I’m so proud of you.”

Eddie whines low in his throat, eyes glistening with tears. “Goddammit, do you know how fucking unmetal it is to cry at your graduation? Fuck you, Steve!” He says, furiously wiping his eyes.

Steve lets out an undignified scoff. “I tell you I love you and you say fuck you?”

“Oh God, you keep saying it,” Eddie whispers, like he’s talking to himself.

“I will keep saying it ‘cause it’s true. I love you, I’m in love with you. The whole time I was watching you in there I wanted to yell ‘that’s my boyfriend and I love him!’”

He knows he’s laying it on too thick, but he doesn’t care. Not when Eddie’s tears fall and he looks at Steve with awe in his eyes. “Steve.” He shakes his head, the cap slides to the side, sitting crooked on Eddie’s head. “You’re such a sap, but I love you too. So much. I couldn’t have done this-” he gestures at the cap and the gown and the diploma, “-without you.”

Steve smiles. His heart feels like it could burst out of his chest when he hears that Eddie loves him back. “You could’ve, but I’ll make sure you never have to.”

A few more tears fall from his eyes and Steve uses his thumb to wipe them away. He can hear the noise coming from inside the school getting closer and louder, and he knows they have maybe a couple of minutes before people start exiting the school.

“Okay, no more tears, today is about celebrating. Besides, the brats will never think you’re cool again if they see you crying.”

Eddie laughs wetly, but manages to put himself together. Steve takes his hand and intends to drag him along to go look for his uncle and their friends, but Eddie stops him.

“Wait,” he says, using his free hand to cup Steve’s jaw and bring him in for a quick kiss. “Wanted to do that inside, but. You know.” Steve nods. He knows. “Okay, let’s go find everyone. Uncle Wayne bought a camera just for this and he I know he’s dying to use it.”

Then he’s dragging Steve toward the doors at the exact moment they open and people start pouring out.

Eddie can’t keep holding his hand after that with the kids crowding around him and taking turns hugging him or jumping on his back. Then it’s Wayne’s turn, who gives Eddie a heartfelt hug that he sinks into with the biggest smile Steve’s ever seen. Then it’s Nancy and Robin, and then Steve again. Then it’s pictures and piling everyone inside Steve’s car and Nancy’s station wagon.

There, Steve gets to hold Eddie’s hand again, over the center console as he drives them away from Hawkins High.

With his free hand, Eddie flips off the building, and everyone in the car, including Steve, cheers.

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests! I present to you...

Eddie reacting to Steve in a crop top and super short shorts for the very first time ever as Steve's just minding his own business and doing the most mundane things ever 👀

Oh what FUN. I needed this prompt SO bad and I had fun with it. Honestly I relate to Eddie so much here: just completely feral over Steve in a crop top and shorts. Hope you enjoy! - Mickala ❤️

—————————————————————

Hawkins was hot during the summer, but that was nothing to the Florida heat.

Florida wasn’t Eddie’s idea, to be clear.

His idea was anywhere not south.

July was hot enough everywhere, why make it worse?

Apparently, he was the only one with common fucking sense.

But Steve insisted on a beach trip, and apparently the only beach that was sufficient for the kids was in Florida.

Eddie wasn’t built for this. He was pale, only owned long black jeans, and his hair stuck to his face and neck the moment he started to break a sweat.

But Steve was so excited and the kids were so excited and so Eddie was tolerating it.

Steve bought an actual RV.

When Max got out of the hospital, basically adopted her when her mom was nowhere to be found, he bought one, not too big, but big enough for everyone to have a space.

Robin took the couch, insisted on it, not sharing with anyone, not even Steve. El and Max took a bottom bunk, Dustin the other bottom bunk. Steve didn’t let Mike and Will share a bunk because he went full parent mode the second he saw them holding hands, so Will took one top bunk with Lucas and Mike took the other. Which left Steve obviously taking the queen bed in the back, and Eddie the bed with him or the floor.

So Eddie argues with himself for a week leading up to the whole long two day ride to Florida about sleeping on the floor, about maybe trying to bunk with Dustin, who kicks and snores like a grown man fighting in a boxing ring. Considered begging Mike to suck it up and share so he wouldn’t have to face what he’d been ignoring for six months now: that he was ass over head, disgustingly, write songs about him, in love with Steve Harrington.

He barely even talks to Steve, probably coming across as an asshole, but Robin covers for him, makes sure he’s given the space he needs to come to terms with the fact he has to share a bed with Steve on this journey.

By the end of the first day, he’d managed to come to terms with sharing a bed with him. A queen bed was big enough for space between them, he could wake up first so there’d be no chance of Steve seeing how hard he would be. He could make it work.

Making it work apparently meant not sleeping at all.

He didn’t even close his eyes. He felt every movement next to him, heard every breath Steve let out, every groan when he moved in a way that caused his healed but still sore bat bites to twinge.

He felt every twinge in his heart knowing that Steve was turned towards him, getting closer with every movement, and he had to ignore it.

He had to ignore it because if he didn’t, he’d turn around and pull Steve against him, play with his stupid, soft hair, and run his hand up and down his stupid, muscular, naked back.

So he was a bit tired on day two of their travels. Steve asked if he could drive for a couple hours so he could braid the girls’ hair. What was he supposed to say? No?

Not fucking likely.

So he drove, even though he was exhausted, and hadn’t drive an RV before in his life, and probably shouldn’t have been allowed near a real map for any reason other than passing it to someone else.

Robin, luckily, saw him struggling, and quickly made her way to the passenger seat to be navigator.

She didn’t say anything about it, she didn’t ask about his night, and she didn’t offer to trade sleeping spots with him. He tried not to be a little bitchy about it, but honestly, she was supposed to be Steve’s best friend, why couldn’t she sleep with him?

When Steve finally yelled to him to pull off the next exit to switch, he felt like he could breathe again.

Maybe he could take a nap in the bed since Steve was driving now.

But then Dustin wanted to talk about the campaign they’d do when they got to the campsite and Will got involved and then Mike had to add his (wrong) opinion about a trap that he was convinced Eddie would throw in. Eddie’s head was starting to hurt and they still had six hours to go.

Eddie managed to sneak away to the bedroom after they stopped for gas and lunch, slept for maybe 30 minutes, then got woken up by El, who wanted her nails painted to match her bathing suit and he couldn’t say no.

Of course, Max decided she wanted her nails painted too, and then Robin said she needed a touch up and didn’t trust herself to do it so Eddie got wrangled into painting everyone’s nails.

He barely even realized when they arrived.

But suddenly, Steve was standing next to him, smiling down at him, making Eddie want to die and also propose marriage at the same time.

“The kids are already running to the water. Wanna help me set up?”

Steve could have asked him to murder someone and he would, so he said yes.

“Cool, I’ll just change. Can you get the awning out and the chairs set up?”

“Yep, don’t take too long and make me do all the work.”

Steve laughed. Eddie laughed.

Eddie was serious, but if anyone could get away with making him do all the work, it was Steve.

So he got started on it all.

He watched Robin walking slowly towards where the kids were running along the water’s edge to keep an eye on them, all of them just a little nervous to let them out of their sights still.

He started turning the crank of the awning, already sweating from the heat and humidity, the breeze just blowing more hot air and sand at him.

He’d never been to the beach before, and he was quickly realizing why he didn’t mind that.

Once the awning was set, he opened the side compartment to pull out some of the camping chairs Steve bought for the occasion.

“Everything going okay?”

Eddie looked up to answer Steve and froze.

Steve had changed.

He’d changed into the shortest crop top Eddie had ever seen and a pair of shorts that his ass was going to pop out of the moment he bent over.

He couldn’t breathe.

Steve’s skin was just. There.

His scars, the scars that matched Eddie’s, were there.

Out in the open.

So much skin just happening right in front of Eddie’s eyes.

“Eddie? You okay? Need help?”

Eddie coughed, trying to hide the fact he was practically choking on his own spit.

“Good. I’m good. So good. Great.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, but he nodded.

“Okay, well I’m gonna hook up the plumbing and electric. Think you can get the hot dogs and buns out and start the fire for when the kids come back super hungry?”

Eddie knew he was asking him something, possibly something important, but he didn’t understand any of it. He nodded, though.

He watched Steve walk around to the other side of the RV.

So much skin.

Holy shit.

Eddie wanted to rip those clothes off of him. He wanted to taste the sweat that was dripping down his neck. He wanted to carry him back into the RV, lock the door, and fuck him into the mattress of the bed they had to share later.

He could do it. Robin would keep the kids busy. She’d understand.

But no. There was a reason he hadn’t acted on his feelings. There was a reason he’d been keeping his distance, making sure he was never alone with Steve.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t notice when Steve came back around the corner, sweatier than before, his skin glistening in the sun.

God, this had to be illegal. This was a war crime. This was torture.

Survived almost being eaten alive by demon bats just to die in Florida watching Steve hook up an RV.

Sounds like a sick joke by the universe, but not that hard to believe considering his history.

“Eds? You good? You look like you need some water.”

Steve was walking up to him now, using the crop top to wipe his forehead, showing off even more skin. Jesus Christ.

“Maybe I do need to cool off. Um. Let me go inside and get some water. Great idea.”

Eddie was somehow making his legs work, rushing into the RV so he could get some space before he did something stupid like kiss Steve and tell him that he loves him.

But Steve was concerned, he should’ve known he would follow him inside.

“Eddie. Hey, just relax. The heat is a lot, maybe you should get your bathing suit on and just cool off a bit. I can handle the rest of this stuff,” Steve said as he grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink.

Must’ve got the water working then.

Steve, to Eddie’s horror and delight, sat down next to him and put his arm around him, handing him the glass of water with a worried look.

Eddie took it, ignoring the way his hands were shaking, hoping Steve would ignore it too.

He didn’t.

“Eddie, shit. You overdid it. I shouldn’t have had you helping out in that heat like that. You’re still technically healing.” Steve’s hand ghosted over where Eddie’s worst scars were on his sides. “I’m sorry. Just stay in here, I’ll get the AC going so it’s cool. You can change, maybe you’ll cool off faster.”

Eddie knew the problem wasn’t really the heat. And Steve wasn’t going to stop this.

Eddie was watching the way the crop top rode up the more Steve fretted over him, the way his thighs were fighting their way out of the shorts.

He had to tell him.

Eddie pulled away from him for a moment, took a really long look at the scar on Steve’s thigh that wasn’t Upside Down related, and then sighed.

“You’re killing me. The heat sucks, but it’s nothing compared to what you’re doing to me.”

That should’ve been where he stopped. But he didn’t.

“Stevie, you’re like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. Like, hotter than Ozzy and James Hetfield combined. Which is crazy because you are nothing like them. You’re you. And like I’m me. And I’m really gay. If that wasn’t clear yet then now it is. I’m super gay. I’m also super into you. I know you’re not into guys, even if you were, you wouldn’t be into me. So like, I get that this is weird and you don’t even have to look at me for the rest of the trip. I’ll sleep on the floor or something. It’s just this outfit is sending me over the edge. I didn’t even know they made shorts that short. And that top? It’s breaking my brain. It’s leaking out of my ears.”

Steve was laughing by the end, which isn’t the worst thing that could be happening, but it certainly wasn’t the best.

“And I mean, when I say super into you, I don’t just mean stupid little high school crush. I mean like I’m in love with you. I love you entirely too much. Like, probably enough where I would be creeped out if someone loved me this much. So I think you should go back outside and let me just wallow in my self pity for a bit in here and then I’ll come back outside and pretend I didn’t just tell you the biggest secret I’ve been keeping for months.”

“Are you done?” Steve asked, no longer laughing, but smiling fondly at him.

Eddie nodded, worried that his outburst probably ruined everything.

But then Steve’s lips were on his, and his hands were in his hair, and his thighs were straddling his lap.

Eddie’s brain shut off and his body took over.

It wasn’t his first kiss by any means, but it was the first kiss with Steve Harrington, which made it more special by default.

He let his hands fall to Steve’s naked thighs, moaning into the kiss when he felt his muscles shift under his palms as he adjusted to a more comfortable position.

Steve pulled away and looked at him with droopy eyes.

“What were you thinking about out there? You were lost in your own world.”

“I was thinking about fucking you into the mattress of that bed while Robin distracts the kids.”

Steve groaned and kissed him again.

“Can we do that?”

Jesus. Steve was something else.

“Sweetheart, as much as I know you’d far surpass any fantasy I’ve had, the kids could be back any minute and we won’t have an explanation for them.”

“We don’t need an explanation if we just tell them the truth,” Steve pouted, trailing soft kisses down Eddie’s neck.

“So you wanna sit them all down and tell them their dad was fucking their mom into the mattress?”

Steve pulled away and smacked Eddie’s chest.

“No! I just figured we could say you needed a nap. Since you didn’t sleep last night.”

Eddie paled. How the fuck did Steve know that?

“Relax. I was asleep last night, it’s not like I was watching you struggle to keep distance between us. But I saw how tired you were this morning and Robin let it slip that you couldn’t get comfortable and made my assumptions.”

Eddie shook his head.

“Well then you’ll know I am actually tired. I probably could use that nap.”

Steve placed a quick kiss to his lips.

“Then you should take one. I’ll finish up outside.”

“Kinda want you with me though.”

“One of us has to be the responsible parent who sets everything up and gives the kids dinner.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie smirked. “This is like your ultimate fantasy isn’t it? Road trip with your kids and your partner?”

Steve blushed.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But I’m right! That’s why I love you, Stevie,” Eddie said before kissing his forehead. “I’ll come start the fire for the hot dogs. You stay away from me so I can focus.”

“Damn. I was gonna take off the shirt, though.”

Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I am begging you to keep it on.”

“Oh. Is this like a thing for you?” Steve teased.

“So what if it is?”

“Then I’ll keep it on and you can fuck me into the mattress with it on later. How’s that sound, big boy?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped.

“Using my own words against me? Unbelievable.”

Steve shrugged and got off his lap, much to Eddie’s dismay.

“I’ll have Robin bring the kids on a night walk along the beach later. Sound okay?”

“Sweetheart, nothing’s ever sounded better.”

[steviewashere]

#50 just make it hurt/comfort and really angsty and sad (I’m clearly in a sad mood asking this rn 😅)

First of all, I hope you're doing better! And hopefully this suffices the ask. I got a lil' crazy with it, wrote way more than a drabble (again), but who cares?

50: Writer's preference, I chose prompts 33: "Please don't do this." and 12: "I think we need to talk."

Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Steve Harrington has Nightmares, Steve Harrington has PTSD, Steve Harrington is a Mess, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, (And Gets One!), Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Arguments, Making Up, Mild Vomiting (Like One and Done), Miscommunication

————— Eddie notices a lot about Steve. Which makes sense, they’re dating, that’s supposed to make sense. But sometimes he wishes that he didn’t have to notice. That he didn’t have to hide his glances because he could spot Steve’s heavy eye bags, or the way his shoulders have been slumping, or how high strung and tight and angry he’s becoming.

The first time he sees a change in Steve’s demeanor, they’re hanging out with all their other survived friends. In his backyard. By the pool. Except, that’s not quite right. Everybody except Steve and Nancy are hanging out at the pool. They’re on opposite sides of the yard, surveying, keeping close eyes on everyone as they move and speak and laugh. At some point, though, Nancy decides she’s had enough waiting. She leaves her post, hesitantly sits next to Robin on the edge of Steve’s pool, and lets her feet soak in the water. Her smile comes easy and her eyes grow soft, and that’s when Eddie knows she’ll be okay. But he keeps his eyes on Steve.

Sure, he should be enjoying himself. Which he is, slightly. Standing in the shallow end, leaned up against the pool wall, just letting the water kiss his scarred skin. He’s sipping on a chilled beer. Talking languidly with Dustin and Lucas and Jonathan about music and games and hobbies. Then, Dustin leaves him. Leaves the water. Strides over to Steve, face set with determination, and a pep in his step. Eddie goes quiet in the conversation, looking over his shoulder instead to where Steve is tucked near his back door. Where he’s not drinking his beer, still sealed and dripping condensation onto Steve’s bare thigh.

Dustin asks him something. Steve shakes his head. He tries offering something else, gesturing loosely with his hand at the pool and the small group that he just came from, but Steve is adamant on his decision. But of course, Dustin never takes no as an answer. He pushes. Which leads to Steve roaring: “Dustin, fuck off!”

Everybody falls silent at that. Eyes on him. Steve bristles, chucks his closed beer to the wooden porch, and disappears into his house with a slam of the door. The beer is fizzing, exploded. And then Dustin starts crying.

That’s the first time Eddie notices a change.

The next time, it’s somewhat subtle. Steve spacey at work, quiet as he shelves tapes, not even talking with Robin. He tries speaking with Steve, but only gets some non-committal grunts instead.

His last straw is an argument they’re having. Currently.

Steve’s tired, bitchier than usual, tense in his shoulders and wild-eyed. Eddie tries to stay soft, give himself a chance to remain calm and keep in mind that Steve’s going through something. But that doesn’t even begin to deter the argument.

“Listen, I think it would be good for…us—“ You, Eddie doesn’t say. “—if you let me help you out,” he’s trying to persuade. He’s standing in Steve’s kitchen. Gesturing at the pile of dishes in the sink and on the counter. Pointing out how the garbage has overflowed. And how he knows laundry hasn’t been done lately. He’s trying to be polite about it. “It’ll be like when I first got out of the hospital, okay? You just rest up and I clean up a little bit, make you something that you want to eat, and we can cuddle and watch a movie.”

However, he knows he’s hitting a brick wall over and over. None of his words are making their way through. The softness is leaking from his throat, drying him out, making him want to puke. Steve huffs through his nose. Face red, eyebrows furrowed so hard that his eyes are nearly closed with it, nose flared, and mouth downturned so extreme he nearly looks like Beaker from The Muppets. “I don’t want your help, Eddie!” Steve shouts from his spot at the dining table. He wouldn’t let Eddie come any closer. “I’m not some child, you know that?! I’m fine, I can do this on my own, and I certainly don’t need somebody like you telling me what needs to happen!”

All at once, the gentle care nukes in Eddie’s chest. Replaced instead by a hazardous anger, red hot and corroding. “What do you mean by that?” He asks bitterly. Voice flat, devoid. “Thought we were over biases, Steve,” he spits.

Steve blubbers like an out of water goldfish. “I—That—You know what I mean, Eddie. Not like—It’s just—“ he flounders. His eyes trail down towards the watch on his wrist. They grow wet, but not the tears that come from sadness. These are tears of agitation. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says wetly; the first thing that fell from his mouth when Eddie began to bring everything up. “Everything’s perfectly fine. Just got behind in house chores, which is whatever, you know? Like—“ He chuckles darkly, a self-deprecating thing, something painfully normal. “—Who the fuck actually cares about how messy everything is, right? Just leave it alone. Let’s…Let’s go cuddle,” Steve says hastily. He clambers up and out of his seat, around the table, and into the kitchen. Wrapping himself tightly around Eddie, cheek pressed to his chest, trying to pull them into the living room.

But Eddie doesn’t wrap back. He steps away. Putting distance between them. “I don’t want to do that with you right now, Steve,” he mutters. “That fucking hurt. What you said. I don’t really feel comfortable being here right now. Forget that I brought this up, okay?” He steps around Steve, who stands stunned and heartbroken in his own kitchen. Eddie’s in the doorway before Steve has the chance to reach out and touch him again. “I—I think we need to talk. But I can’t do it right now. I can’t…Why would you say that? Jesus, Steve.” And yeah, he had different intentions when coming over here. Wanted to soothe whatever was going on. Figure out how he could help. If he could help. In fact, he would’ve been fine with Steve pushing him off again, insisting on a topic change. He would’ve let it happen. But not now.

He makes sure the hurt is shown on his face before he leaves. Before he has a chance to rub his eyes and sniffle. And ignores how Steve calls out to him. He needs to calm down before he says something he might regret, something that would hurt worse than what Steve said to him.

They don’t cross paths often after that. Sometimes Eddie sees him at Family Video, but not for very long. In just to rent a tape and get out, hurt simmering unrestful in his ribcage. He can spot Steve out of the corner of his eye, reaching out, stepping in place, mouth opening and closing. But he ignores what he has to say.

Sees Steve when he drops off people for Dungeons & Dragons nights at the Wheeler’s house. But he scurries off before anything can happen. Other people start to take notice and Eddie has to shoot a warning glance with a gritted, “It’s private. I don’t want to tell you.”

Today, though, he notices Steve dropping something off at Max’s. She takes the offered thing from his grip, shuts the door softly at his back, and then Eddie finds Steve’s eyes. Hard not to notice him when he lives only a short distance away from Max’s place, but what greets him makes his stomach knot. Steve is unwell. Pale and jumpy, eyes bloodshot, his eye bags heavy and dark circles so purple—he almost looks bruised. His hands are shaking, clothes are rumpled, and his hair is…greasy, flat, knotted. Eddie puts out the cigarette he’d been smoking and walks calmly and quietly down his steps. Crossing to Steve’s bumper.

“Hey, baby,” he greets softly.

Steve startles anyway. Turning with his hand gripping tight to his door handle. Tugging on it, though it must be locked. His eyes are wide and devastating. Wet, exhausted, puffy and swollen. They’re red raw. Like he’s been crying. And rubbing at them, too. At a closer look, Steve’s cheeks are blank of any color at all, slightly gaunt. His lips are chewed to all hell. And his facial hair is wiry, outgrown. Unkempt.

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs, stepping closer. He places a firm hand to Steve’s left bicep, squeezing ever so gently. Runs his thumb over the taut muscle. “Can we talk inside? Let me make you a cup of tea and get you something to eat?”

He doesn’t say anything, but does release his hold on the car handle. Follows slowly to the door, but doesn’t come close to the couch where Eddie gestures to.

“You can sit on the—“

“Please don’t do this,” Steve sobs.

Immediately, Eddie comes closer into his space. Hands splayed in front of him, ready to reach out and touch and hold, but isn’t sure if that’s allowed. “What? What shouldn’t I do, Steve?” He questions. His voice quivers with concern.

“Don’t leave me, Eds,” Steve cries, rattling and shaking with it. His chest stutters. Hiccups in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry—I’m so—I didn’t mean it, I was just upset and I know that’s not okay, but I—“ Steve gags harshly, doubling over with it. Eddie rushes behind him, grabs for the waste bin, and sets it out in front of him. “—I was being an asshole and I’m sorry and I’m sorry that I hurt you and that you thought I thought bad about you, but I didn’t, I didn’t, I don’t, Eds—“ Eddie can’t even understand the rest of what he’s babbling, it’s incoherent, strung tight with snot and saliva and tears, but it renders too much. Steve finally reaches out for the trash can, hurls harshly, and drops to his knees with his grip still on the can’s lip.

Eddie crouches beside him. Hand on his back, on his forehead. Holding to him firmly, ignoring how sweaty and cold he is at once. A part of him withers at how he made things worse. It wasn’t his intention, to make Steve worry this bad, but he definitely instilled that fear. And now he needs to just glue back together what he cracked.

When Steve is able to calm down, collapsing heavily against Eddie, does he speak softly. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I guess we both used our words wrong. I’m just so worried about you, I swear. This isn’t—I would never lead you on about a break up. And that’s not what this conversation is, I promise, Stevie.”

Steve sniffles noisily. He koalas himself around Eddie, burrowing his face into Eddie’s chest. He’s still shivering, sweaty, and weak. “I’m sorry,” he mutters.

“I forgive you, Steve.” He holds to Steve tightly. Crushing him in closer, not caring how it makes his back ache or his knees scuff the floor. Doesn’t care about how Steve’s tears soak through his shirt or the sure mess of snot left behind. He squeezes Steve’s back and states softly, “I’m just so upset that you think you have to be fine. That you can’t ask for help. That you have to deal with everything on your own.”

“I—“

“Please just talk to me, Steve. What’s going on? I just don’t understand where you’ve gone, you know? You’re so tired and angry and tense all the time. You don’t want to talk to anybody. You keep pushing us away, closing yourself off. But then you don’t take care of yourself,” Eddie rambles, his voice growing weak and choked. “I’m sorry that I—I don’t know how to talk about this without sounding like an asshole. I’m just worried. Worried that…That something’s terribly wrong.”

The implication of Vecna is not lost between them, if the way Steve tenses says anything.

Carefully, Steve pulls himself away. Staring wide and timid at Eddie. Before he breaks with another cry of, “Everybody keeps dying, Eds. The nightmares. They keep—I can’t sleep. I see it everywhere.”

“What do you see?” Eddie asks, voice shaking. Please don’t say that clock. Please don’t say the clock, Steve. Please, he internally pleads.

“Death,” Steve whispers. “Everywhere. In everybody. I see…Nancy drowning and Robin beaten and Max broken. I see you covered in blood with chunks of you missing and you don’t look at me, you just look over my shoulder and you’re gone by the time I find you. I just see it. I can’t—I can’t stop seeing it, Eddie.” He curls his hands tight into Eddie’s shirt, nearly ripping it off of his back. “And I’m always alone,” he hiccups. “Alone when I wake up. And so I leave, I drive around, I wait to see if anything bad happens. But I can’t sleep.”

Eddie brings a hand and swipes back at Steve’s hair, pushing it away from his forehead. He leans in and leaves a gentle, sticky kiss to the skin. Pulling back, he offers, “When you’re ready for bed, you find me. Call me so that I can come over. Or tell me to come get you.” He cups Steve’s face, holding him between his hands. His cheeks that are splotchy red, tacky with tears. Eyes hazel and shiny and slightly defeated, yet hopeful. Eddie tickles his thumb over the bridge of Steve’s nose, his cupid’s bow, between his eyebrows. “Stevie, baby, I never want you to think you’re alone again. Ever. Seeing you so distraught all the time was killing me, but I’m here to help. You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders.”

“But…I’m supposed to be able to take care of myself, Eds,” Steve argues quietly.

“Yeah, sometimes,” Eddie states. “You’re not supposed to be alone, not all the time. And if laying with you until you fall asleep safely, or showing you how fine everybody is, making you a sandwich or doing the dishes—Whatever, whatever helps you out, I’m willing.” He presses another soft kiss to Steve’s lips, the tip of his nose, on his forehead. Murmuring, “You helped me. It’s my turn, don’t you think? Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Steve shrugs. “Am I supposed to just sit around?”

“You don’t have to, but you could relax. Watch a movie or do something that’s not exhausting,” Eddie explains. “Being independent, you know, doesn’t mean exerting yourself at every possible moment. Or ignoring things that bother you. Or hiding your hurt. It means seeking help, even if you do it on your own. It means sticking up for yourself, even if what’s hurting you is you.”

Against Eddie’s palms, Steve sighs through his nose. “Okay,” he mutters. “Can…Can we take a nap? I’m really tired,” Steve tentatively asks.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll find my soft pajamas for you, too.” He stands, offering out his hands for Steve. Tugs him up. And when they’re at eye level, “Steve?” Eyes on him, zeroed in and focused. “I want you to bother me. Be a nuisance. Take up space.”

“Are you sure?” Steve murmurs. “I can be a lot.”

“Loving you means loving all of you, sweetheart. Even the excess parts. Which, by the way, aren’t excess. Because I love taking care of you, despite what your brain is surely telling you,” Eddie says. “Come on, I’ll take care of that can while you lay down.”

He’s glad he noticed. But he’s happier at the sound of Steve’s soft snores, puffed over his bare neck, and the drool that will surely dry on his collarbone.

——— Drabble Prompts Ask Game

[paperbackribs]

werewolf steve, werebat eddie (ch2)

🦇🧥🦇

Eddie’s knee bounces in the stationary van parked outside the Harrington house; he stares down at the open Dungeons and Dragons Monster Manual clutched between his arms, flipping between the werewolf and the dire wolf. A drawing of the former has it standing upright, muscled and snarling with outstretched claws; his eyes are drawn to chaotic evil.

He knows that Steve isn’t evil. He does. The man who had spent hours next to Eddie at his hospital bedside showed an honour and trustworthiness that had drawn Eddie in even before he’d recognised it.

No, the caring guy he’s come to know is about as far from an alignment that lacks compassion and kills for sport as someone could get. That Steve is capable of wielding a nail-bat against the monsters of the Upside Down only lends an appealingly chaotic feel to the man Eddie had begun to think of as a rogue knight.

Sighing, he flips to the other page held open by his spare hand: dire wolf. Unaligned and a beast advantaged by its pack, this seems like Steve’s speed. Resembling his transformed self more acutely with its simple, albeit large wolf appearance. His finger stops on the bloodied maw, but the idea of it is still terrifying.

Reluctantly, he turns to the page he’s now memorised by heart. Man-shaped, this monster growls with open fangs too; sharp tapered ears are fixed on a figure draped in an aristocratic overcoat and cape. Finger trembling, he traces undead and lawful evil before pausing over bat polymorph as one of the vampire’s characteristics.

A loud bang smacks against the side of the van and Eddie jumps high enough to hit his head on the Chevrolet’s roof. “Ow, Christ!” He hisses, rubbing the sore spot and glaring at Dustin grinning at him through the closed window.

“Come on,” he shouts, “Everyone’s here!”

Eddie scowls, leaving behind the manual to tumble out of the van. Dustin immediately starts pushing him from behind and Eddie whacks at him with his hands, “Lay off, man. I’m coming, okay.”

Dustin hums doubtfully, “Yeah, but I watched you sit in the van for the last ten minutes and that was only after I noticed you’d arrived. Who knows how long it was going to take you?”

He quickly opens the front door before Dustin pushes him right smack into it, but the younger boy continues shoving at Eddie until he stumbles into Steve’s living room. In a similar configuration to yesterday’s intervention, the party sits, lounges, or stands about the room, quietly talking.

On the couch, Robin sits cross-legged with Steve who’s flipping through a magazine. Eddie’s relieved to see that all four limbs are human-shaped, and mouth only curved into a soft pout as he contemplates the article in front of him.

Everyone pauses to look over at their loud entrance. Steve glances up and, meeting his calm expression, Eddie almost blushes at how uncoordinated he must have looked falling through the door. He averts his gaze to El who approaches him with an outstretched palm, “Are you ready?”

Eddie sighs but takes her hand; she leads him to the open floor and they sit across from each other, “Yeah, we might as well do this. So, you’re going to force the bat out or something?”

“There’s no guarantee that you can shift,” Lucas leans back against the wall next to Will with casually folded arms. “You could be a normal human with bat scars and that’s it.”

“Or I could be a vampire of the night,” Eddie counters darkly. “I’ve been craving meat lately.”

Max rolls her eyes, “You have not, you big liar. I saw you scoffing down Honey Crunch on your front porch only two days ago.”

“Yeah, well, I was high. Maybe weed mellows out the beast.”

Eddie’s gaze flies to Steve when he snorts, but Steve looks away, concentrating on the magazine that Eddie suddenly suspects he’s not actually reading.

The thought that he’s avoiding Eddie stirs a familiar sense of guilt, giving rise to the niggle that he’d tried to forget after the wolf left yesterday, further punctuated by Robin’s distinct stink-eye. Even amidst the fear that had gripped him, he’d been able to see a sad, dejected version of Steve in the down-turned tail and slow trudge away.

“I'm going to take you into the void,” El says, holding out both her hands over her knees and Eddie takes them at her urging. “When I visit Steve there, he is able to feel the wolf and communicate with him.”

“I sort of see him next to me, if it helps,” Steve finally pipes up, watching Eddie warily like he’s expecting him to reject the advice, but Eddie only nods grimly. He’s going to need all the tips he can get he suspects. “Do I let it possess me or something?”

Steve frowns, a hint of reproach about him, “My wolf doesn’t posses me, he is me. Just like I’m him.” He shakes his head at Eddie’s confusion, “If you have a bat or a vampire or, I don’t know, maybe you’ll have a wolf too, then just reach out to him. He wants to be a part of you and you’ll both figure it out from there.”

Eddie looks into the steady gaze of Steve’s hazel eyes and feels it like a hand over his own: Steve has done this before, and successfully. He just needs to trust in the rogue knight one more time. “Okay,” he says, closing his eyes and following El’s lead.

🐺🐺🐺

Steve throws his Fine Gardening magazine onto the coffee table and leans against Robin’s shoulder, she presses back. “Does it usually take this long with me,” he murmurs, trying to keep quiet for the two sitting silently in the middle of the room. Both El and Eddie have their eyes closed and hands clasped with the other. Max had turned the television to a snowy channel to help channel El’s concentration with the static sound.

She hums a negative, “But then, you two only did it to play around and see if there was more you could learn about yourself. This is Eddie trying to find out whether he even has another version to turn into.”

She grabs his arm suddenly, “Wait.” Steve blinks, unsure of what he’d seen other than to describe it as a pulse around Eddie. A long beat passes before the trick of the eye flickers again, so quickly that Steve can’t be sure of what he’s seeing.

In one rapid swoop, the air around Eddie contracts, pulling abruptly inwards until Eddie the human disappears to be replaced with a bat standing unsteadily in front of El. He blinks wide eyes, faltering on tiny feet before stumbling over to land on his back.

Eddie squawks in what Steve thinks is shock before frantically flapping his extended wings and tossing over to push up into the air, erratically darting around the suddenly panicking humans.

With one wing beating harder than the other, he drunkenly tilts and rolls into Mike’s long hair. Shrieking, Mike pulls Eddie out and flings him away even while crying out, “Shit! Sorry, Eddie! Sorry!”

Eddie cries out himself and flutters, gaining his momentum only to slam into the wall with a thump next to Dustin who leaps forward trying to catch him, but Eddie desperately twists before leaping higher, aiming for the peak of the ceiling.

“Catch him,” Will yells as Lucas runs out of the room.

“I’m trying,” Dustin shrieks in a tone that matches the high screeches of Eddie above them.

Robin shrugs off her boxy jacket, “Wait, I’ve got this.” She advances on Eddie as he zig zags against the wall again, but he must see her as a large threatening animal because he chitters wildly before smacking his wings at her face. Robin yelps and falls, only narrowly avoiding hitting her head on the ground by Max urgently jumping underneath to stop her rapid descent.

Lucas skids into the living room, triumphantly holding aloft the large pool skimmer usually stored in the garden shed. “Steve,” he yells before throwing it across the room.

Steve deftly catches the long handle in the air and, with a twist of his wrist, scoops Eddie mid-flight. Quickly flipping the pole, he entangles his small body in the net.

Panting or, in Mike’s case, holding down his hair, the group silently gather around the squirming bat version of Eddie as he shrieks and tries to bite his way out of the thin rope.

Steve thinks of his first fumbling and panicked steps: the distinct difference between having two legs extended to four, not even at the right height, let alone the terror of suddenly having a completely different way of looking and feeling the world had been indescribable. There are still scratches in the wooden floorboards from how hard he had dug his claws in to stop his legs from skidding in all directions.

“Back up, guys,” he says softly, keeping his tone low and soothing. “Hey, Eddie, hey,” he shushes, positioning the net against his torso so he can roll Eddie out of the mesh without letting him escape. Everyone steps back or sits in a chair, and Steve brings Eddie higher up to his chest so he can meet the eyes of the little guy.

Although his thinking or way of interpreting his surroundings may be a little different, Steve is always aware of the world as he would be as a human, and he can see that it’s the same for Eddie. The big wet eyes of his bat form aren’t that different from his human ones, Steve thinks, a little amused even while worried at how hard Eddie is panting.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, “You’re okay, you’re with friends, and this isn’t permanent. You’re just a bat for a little bit, Eddie, and you’ll be human in no time. Okay? You’re okay.” He keeps repeating reassuring nonsense, keeping his fingers firmly wrapped around squirming wings and resting Eddie against his heart.

As a wolf, Steve likes to lay his head over Robin’s heart, likes the proof that she is alive and well under him, and often finds himself calming under her steady thump, thump, thump.

Under his fingers, he can feel the frantic thrumming of Eddie’s heart start to calm too.

“That’s good,” he croons softly, stroking his thumb over the soft down of Eddie’s head. He takes stock of the little body in front of him: over Eddie’s nose the bridge is one long stripe of white, the rest of him covered in a deep brown while the ruff of his neck is almost golden, his ears are tapered as is the long tip of his pink tongue.

They all watch while Steve successfully calms Eddie as if he is a baby cradled to him. “Do you think that’s a were thing?” Asks Lucas, peering at Eddie as his breathing slows down, he blinks back up at him.

“I don’t know,” Will says thoughtfully, “Steve is pretty soothing to have around.” El nods while Mike shoots his friend a look of betrayal.

Steve rolls his eyes, “He was just scared. Look, now he’s had a moment to chill he’s with us again.” And, sure enough, little Eddie’s eyes are drooping as Steve continues to lightly pat him, clearly relaxing into the comforting gesture. He loosens his hold, still keeping a firm grip but not so tightly in fear of Eddie struggling again.

Max snorts as she peers down, “Oh yeah, there’s the big bad metalhead everyone fears.”

Eddie’s closing eyes snap open with a glare and he squeaks at her. Unfortunately, Steve thinks, the cuteness of it all only supports Max’s teasing. Robin meets his eyes over the kids’ heads and silently laughs in agreement.

“Okay,” Steve orders, “I think the lot of us in the same room may be too much for him right now. You guys skedaddle and we’ll let you know when he’s back to rights.”

Dustin looks doubtful, “What can you do that we can’t?”

Robin snorts, “Uh, Dusty-bun, Steve is literally the expert in this room when it comes to were-changes. You can’t research your way out of this one.”

Dustin grumps, “I could. If we didn’t have Steve, I could absolutely be the one to help him get back to normal.” He turns to the backpack shoved against the table. “Here,” he says, pulling out two books with photos of bats across the covers. Steve peers further into the bag and can see back-ups that apparently didn’t pass muster. “These are the books I brought on bats. If he starts craving blood, let me know — I have more on vampires when he needs them.”

Max takes them from his hands while Lucas steers Dustin towards the front door, where they’d left their bikes outside. Mike mutters a mocking noise that sounds like skedaddle and, with that, the room falls silent once more.

Robin and Steve look over at Max as she falls back onto the couch with El quickly following behind. She stares back belligerently, “What? Mom dropped me off and Eddie was our ride back.” El crosses her arms with a serene smile.

Steve sighs, “Okay, but we’re not doing anything exciting and you guys are making dinner.” The girls readily agree, heating leftovers from Steve’s fridge and serving the four of them as they sit in the living room, eating while watching a Bewitched marathon. At Steve’s instruction, Robin had brought down his blue hoodie with its tunnel-like pocket over his belly.

Little Eddie had curled up inside of it and Steve keeps one hand over him to provide what he hopes feels like shelter and comfort; under it, he can feel the heat of his small body and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“You look like you’re pregnant,” Robin acerbically observes from the other end of the couch, feet crossed into her lap for the lotus position.

“Does that mean that I can finally eat butterscotch ice cream without you making that face?” He counters with a bitchy expression back.

“What face?” She protests even as she makes The Face. Max rises her brow to Steve, “Why does she look like that?”

“That summer at Scoops maybe put her off some flavours for life,” he shares. El ignores them all in favour of watching Samantha wiggling her nose to float Darrin out of a tree.

“If I have to smell USS Butterscotch one more time, I’m going to puke — lack of pregnancy be damned,” Robin warns.

The commercials blares once Samantha finishes rescuing her husband, and El moves to peek inside the hoodie, tentatively extending a finger and gasping when Eddie’s little bat foot comes out to grip it. “He feels so soft.”

Steve snickers at Robin and he thinks he feels what’s supposed to be a bat bite through the cotton in retaliation, but it’s hard to tell with the lack of sharp fangs behind it. He sobers for the younger members of the room, “Yeah, but he can’t stay this way forever. Can you sense anything from him, El?”

She closes her eyes while continuing to hold Eddie’s foot, “He is not upset like earlier, but I don’t think he is ready to come back to being human-Eddie yet either.”

Steve looks worriedly down at the bump over his stomach, “Is he okay? I ran around a lot at first too, but once I figured out what was happening I tried to turn human again as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, but you also didn’t know that it was possible to turn back to human,” Robin points out. “He could be chilling ‘cause he knows that everything is going to be okay.”

El hums, “No, I do not think that’s it.” She shrugs, gently untangling Eddie’s clawed toes to lean back into Max who shifts an arm and drapes it over El’s shoulders comfortingly. “But he is not willing to share either. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Robin reassures her as she peeks into the other end of the pocket, smirking as she waggles a playful finger at him. Steve can see the wide, wet eyes of Eddie peeking out at her in curiosity. “Maybe he knows that he’s cuter as a bat than as a stinky human boy.”

Eddie glares and snaps his small teeth in the air before sullenly turning, curling up and facing the other way. Once again, a small hidden lump in the hoodie. Steve sighs, “We’ll give him the night and, if he’s not back tomorrow, maybe you can look for him in the void, El? Ask him what’s going on or guide him back to being human again. Whatever it is that he needs since it’s not working for him right now.”

He glances at the stairs, “Do you guys want to stay over? You can sleep in one of the spare rooms?”

“I call third bedroom,” Robin calls, standing up decisively, “Second bedroom has a weird smell.” She points her finger at Steve’s opening mouth, “I don’t care if you can’t smell anything, which, weird. Since you’re the one with the super nose these days.”

She grimaces and says more quietly, “I don’t think I can bunk up tonight, all the screaming got me…” She waggles her hand around her ears and Steve nods, knowing that she needs some quiet time after a lot of stimulation.

Max smirks and takes El by the hand, “That’s cool, we can’t smell whatever weirdo smell your nose is picking up. Night guys.” The girls wave before heading upstairs and Steve shuts off the television.

Picking his way through the house he double checks that the windows and doors are locked before turning off the lights and heading to bed. Lying down, he snuggles little Eddie to him, the small body already curled on top of his chest and asleep.

If you enjoyed anything of this I hope you'll consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 - it would make my day! 💖🦇🐺💖

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

Here’s the thing about the kids.

Mike can be downright squirrely when he wants to be.

The guy is all long-limbs and ever-changing moods, and the second he spots Steve he vanishes around the corner and leaves no trace of himself behind.

Dustin, similarly, is catty.

The kid’s not fast, but when cornered, he has a tendency to do the most insane, ridiculous things.

Currently Steve is ninety percent sure he just saw him jump out a window, and the only reason it’s not one hundred is because his eyesight isn’t the greatest these days, and it’s entirely possible Dustin found something to put that stupid Weird Al shirt on and threw that out the window instead,

It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.

Knowing this, Steve automatically goes for the easiest target: Lucas.

See, Lucas is, of course, the most athletic and the only one likely to give Steve a run for his money should he too, decide to bolt.

He also was the most likely to stop and actually talk to Steve, because unlike his friends, he possessed some emotional maturity.

Or just maturity in general.

“Come on Luc, what’s going on?” Steve calls out, the second he rounds the corner and spots the kids. “You’re freaking me out.”

That makes Lucas stop and come to him, while the other two dipshits bolt.

Steve leans against a wall, eyebrow raised as Lucas slinks forward, but knows instantly from the grin the kid’s trying to hide that whatever’s going on right now, is their usual kind of bullshit.

(An internal part of him, the part that has to deal with the unusual bullshit every six months or so, sighs in relief.)

“Okay, you have to swear not to be mad.” Lucas starts, which is never a good sign, but at least it’s coming from Steve’s second most trustworthy kid.

(Will still holds first place, after the time he ratted out Mike for dumping nail polish all over Max’s jacket.

“She was super rude, but she didn’t deserve that.” Will had said with a stubborn set to his jaw.

Steve had ruffled his hair and together they had plotted a way to get revenge on Mike without letting Max outright murder him.)

“We uh, might have heard that you were being auctioned off tonight.”

Which was not at all where Steve thought this was going to go.

“Okay?” He hedges, waiting to see where Lucas spills the part that makes Steve worry.

“So you played D&D with Erica and Dustin, and neither of them will stop bragging about it.” Lucas says, a slight pink coloring his cheeks, “--and Mike won’t say it, but I know it bothers him too so we thought we could, uh, buy you. For the day.”

Lucas sends out his gigawatt grin, the one he uses when he’s trying to be his most charming. “To make you play D&D with us.”

Something warm and soft blooms in Steve’s heart. A kind of love he’d never had before hauling the little shits out of the line of fire the first time.

These kids were gonna be the death of him, he just knew it.

“If you ever tell the others I said this I will deny it ” Steve says, pulling out his wallet and forking out a handful of twenties. “But I would be happy to play your dungeons and dipshits game with you.”

Lucas doesn’t even correct him as he accepts the money with a grin--a real one this time. “Really?” He says, and it's so stupidly hopefully it makes Steve’s heart squeeze.

He reaches out, pulling the kid in for a hug for a second. Claps him on the back a few times before pushing fondly at his head.

“Over being taken on a date by some middle aged woman? Absolutely. But like I said,” He playfully shoves Lucas away, “You tell anyone and I will deny, deny, deny.”

“Sure Steve, whatever.” Lucas says, before running off to go find his friends.

Steve watches him go for a moment, smile on his face, before turning back to the gym.

He’d rather play D&D with the kids any day over dealing with this farce.

(The shocking thing, he finds himself thinking as he wanders over to where the other dates are situated, is that he means it. Even if a hot, beautiful girl bid on him--he’d rather spend the day with the kids.

Doesn’t that just say something about his life these days?)

xXx Eddie xXx

His club was going to kill him.

Normally, missing a game would be downright heresy. Betrayal of the highest order, particularly considering he’s the damn dungeon master. Sure, other people can DM, but not for the current ongoing campaign, which means Eddie landing his sorry ass in detention disrespected the sanctity of both his club and his people.

A fact he will need to beg on hands and knees to makeup for.

The siren song of the microphone, nevermind the idea of having an honest to god stage to prowl around on at lunch was simply too much for Eddie to resist, particularly when it came to his anti-Valentines Day speech.

Not that he was the type of guy to roll his eyes at all the lovey-dovey crap floating around, but more that people could be so stupid about it.

…and maybe he was a little bit jealous.

Eddie convinces himself it’s fine. He plans to have a session for the missed game on Sunday, when he knows his friends had planned to hang out at his place anyway.

Still feels bad about it as he walks down the halls of Hawkin’s high, annoyed that detention took as long as it did.

There’s people milling around, in the kind of stupid dressed up clothes that wasn’t formal, but could be described by evil words like “business casual.” The best skirts and knitted tops, slacks for the men paired with button up shirts or polos.

Like a fucking swarm of Steve Harrington’s--without any of the guys charm.

Not that he had any charm.

Definitely not.

Eddie gives an overactive shudder to clear his head, making his way out of the school as fast as he can.

Because life, the universe and everything in it hates him, he’s interrupted.

“Eddie! Oh thank god, look guys it’s Eddie!”

For the briefest of seconds after hearing Henderson’s voice, Eddie’s worried no one thought to tell the kids that Hellfire had been canceled.

Or, considering Eddie’s over the top response to the first time one of them had tried to miss a campaign night, they might be worried he’s dying (rather than simply an “unbearable idiot” as Jeff had called him earlier.)

His freshman lambs quickly swarm him, three pairs of eyes staring with weird amounts of hope (Sinclair, Henderson) and awkward embarrassment (Wheeler.)

“Eddie! Eddie, they're only letting Juniors and Seniors place the actual bets!” Dustin sounds frantic, practically vibrating in place before him. “They won’t let any of us bid on Steve!”

Any fondness Eddie felt evaporates in a puff of vexed smoke.

“That sounds like a you problem.” He challenges, raising an eyebrow.

For once, the freshmen don’t cringe back.

Instead he’s treated to steel sliding across Henderon’s face, Sinclair right behind him and Mike, who refuses to meet Eddie’s eyes, but stands with his friends anyway.

“Come on, think of all the chaos it’ll cause!” Dustin is pleading, his hands waving in the air in a way that reminds Eddie of himself. “Isn’t that like, you’re whole thing? Going against ‘the Man’!?”

Yes, because publicly buying Harrington for a date in front of Hawkin’s self-proclaimed elite was a great way to stick it to ‘the Man’, instead of, say, painting yet another target on his back.

“I don’t think getting into a bidding war over taking Steve Harrington on a date is going to go over well.” He deadpans.

Dustin throws his hands in the air. “It doesn’t have to be a date! ”

“Jennifer’s mom’s friends bid on her. For a girls night.” Mike adds so quietly it takes a minute for the words to process.

“Just saying!” He adds frantically, as though Eddie is going to call him out for this betrayal.

Considering the downright fearful look he’s wearing, Eddie might just do it for shits and giggles in his next campaign.

“We’re begging you, don’t you want to see Steve play D&D? We promise you can even watch the whole thing and embarrass him or whatever!” Dustin continues, hands clasped together in front of him.

“There you idiots are.” A judgey, annoyed voice calls, cutting into the conversation.

Eddie has never met Sinclair Jr. but immediately assumes the girl walking towards them with her arms firmly on her hips must be her “Steve’s up next, idiots. I know you know how auctions work, so I shouldn't have to remind you about having to physically be in the room to bid on him.”

She stops, cocking her head challengingly. “Unless one of you is going to call in from a payphone?”

Cheeky.

Eddie loves cheeky.

Even if she is eleven.

Muted calls ring out again from the gym. Apparently Hawkin’s middle aged women have started their fight for a day spent with one of the “young, local heroes”.

The very thought of Steve, all scraped up in the stupid Scoop’s Ahoy sailor uniform, guiding kid’s out of the mallfire with his broad chest and buff arms and--

“Eddie.” Dustin whines, bouncing frantically in place.

‘Head out of the gutter, Munson!’ He thinks, annoyed at himself (and perhaps, a little bit more understanding of the ladies shouting out numbers in the gym).

“Do you still only have five dollars?” He says, and it's not defeat, not yet, but he can see the hope reignite in their eyes.

This was stupid. A stupid, stupid, stupid idea!

“We have a hundred now.” Lucas says firmly, which is at least a lot more than five.

The calls from the gym are playful but there’s a catty undertone now. Those women really want that date with Steve, and Eddie knows walking in there, bidding on Harrington is a death sentence.

Dustin’s done something to his eyes. They’re wide, shined over like he’s about to cry. Like this fucking matters to him.

It drills into Eddie in a way he hates. How the three of them, (even Mike who is still trying his best not to act like he wants this) are handing him all their dreams. He’s someone they look up to, someone who can make things happen, and he’s always liked that feeling--but this?

This was asking a lot.

“Eddie man, please. You’re our only hope.” Dustin says it softly, and goddamn him, it’s like he knows Eddie is weak for this shit. That under all his leather and chains that he cares.

About them.

He just wishes what they didn’t care about was fucking Steve Harrington.

He knows they think the guy hung the moon. Just as he knows he'll need more than money to fend off the competition and actually win Steve: he'll need a plan.

Knows, even, just how he’ll do it.

“Baby Sinclair, a word?” He crooks a finger, walking a few paces backwards as a plan rapidly forms.

She flicks her eyes over to him, and with an appraisal that says she had already judged him and found him lacking. “It’s Erica.”

Eddie bows low to her, arm brushing the floor. “My deepest apologies, Lady Erica.”

She rolls her eyes but comes over anyway and lets Eddie whisper in her ear.

xXx

If there's one thing Eddie is good at, it's presentation.

The gym doors are already open so there’s nothing he can throw or kick dramatically to announce his presence. Instead, Eddie settles for wading through the crowded tables until he’s dead center to the stage.

Steve stands upon it, a smile in place that reads fake as hell--but considering the sheer amount of wine glasses on all the tables Eddie doesn’t think anyone else clocks it. At least, not anyone who can legally drink anyway.

Erica, bless her, manages to swipe an auction paddle and hand it to Eddie. With a cocked hip, he holds it straight into the air..

"One-fifty!" He calls, causing a wave of heads to twist his way.

“What the hell.” Jason hisses, launching to his feet. Chrissy pulls at his elbow, but he throws her off with a quick jerk, staring furiously from his spot with the other “dates.”

"This is a charity event, Munson. This isn’t time for one of your pranks!” He speaks in the kind of loud, surefire way that screams authority and draws eyes from around the room.

Eddie was prepared for it.

“Jason,” he gasps, paddle going over his heart in mock outrage, “this isn’t a prank! I’m here on behalf of the children.”

The stare he gets would have fit better on an enraged bull.

(The bull, Eddie reasons, would have been smarter.)

“What children!?” Jason spits and Eddie couldn’t have planned a better entrance if he’d paid the moron to say all the shit he just had.

Erica, playing her part like the champion she was, steps out from behind Eddie and waves.

"Steve helped me escape during the mallfire.” She announces, loud enough to be heard throughout the gym.

She takes another step forward, all eyes on her and makes herself look smaller somehow.

Younger.

“I just--" she cuts herself off, eyes welling with unshed tears as she bites her lip. "I just would love it if Steve played some club games with us. Please?"

Her voice breaks on the word ‘games’ and Eddie has to hand it to her--girl’s a rising star.

"Are you shitting me?!" Jason protests, but is shushed loudly by the mother at the table nearest to him. Chrissy finally succeeds in getting her boyfriend to sit back down, his face a glorious shade of red.

If Eddie had known he was going to get to embarrass Carver out of this, he would have agreed a lot sooner.

“One-fifty going once!” The auctioneer calls, and Erica takes a hesitant step forward.

“One-fifty going twice!” He calls again, and there’s a hush in the gym everyone collectively holding their breath.

“Sold!” He calls out, after a too long pause.

Erica lets out a loud sob (slightly over-acted but Eddie will give it to her) and runs up the stairs of the stage, leaping at Steve.

He catches her in a crushing hug, applause and whistles following what has to be every mother in the damn place letting out an “awww.”

Eddie manages not to gag, but only because he still has his showman smile in place.

Steve descends the stairs, Erica holding his hand until the next “date” is called to the stage. She leans in to whisper something to him and Eddie gets to watch Steve smother bark of laughter with a cough as Erica casually skips off.

"How much did Erica charge you for that little show?" Steve asks quietly as he comes up to Eddie, the two of them heading to the cashier.

“She wants me to paint her a bunch of signs for her girl scout troop. Then swear to buy ten boxes of cookies.”

Steve shakes his head, a soft smile on his face. "Consider yourself lucky. She nailed me with free ice cream for life once."

"Damn." Eddie whistles.

"I know the kids probably put you up to this, but I appreciate it." Steve continues, sounding outright relieved as they stand in line together to pay.

Eddie gives him a look. "You're happy that I won." He says.

It’s not a question.

“Absolutely I am a man, did you see some of the women bidding on me?” Steve shudders, making a horrified face that Eddie can’t not laugh at.

"What if I really did want to go on a date, Stevie?" He teases, knocking his shoulder into the former jock’s. “And the whole thing with Mini Sinclair was just a way to do it?”

Steve goes with the movement, clearly taken aback. Eddie begins to grin, clasping his hands under his chin and batting his eyelashes. Waits for the negative reaction he knew was coming.

He doesn’t get it.

Instead, Steve's face melted into something downright sinful.

“Then I’d still be coming out ahead, Munson.” Steve’s voice drops low, leaning in a bit to make his words private. “It’d be fun to use the ol’ Harrington charm on you.”

Eddie swallows once, twice.

His throat bops as he tries to make it work, before finally managing to spit out "For the record, I am immune to any and all charms.”

“That’s what they all say.” Steve says, then winks.

Fucking.

Winks.

At him!

“Whatever.” He scoffs. Steps up to pay, because it’s finally his turn, and listens as the woman behind the counter explains that as part of the rules of the auction: all dates must be redeemed by the end of the weekend.

Is followed by Harrington, who turns a smile onto the women behind the table.

“Not a problem.” Steve tells her, and while it doesn’t seem like he's using that “Harrington Charm” that totally had not made Eddie blush scarlet, the cashier is clearly enamored anyway.

“Thank you for bidding on him for those kids.” She tells Eddie, as Steve leans a hip against the table.

“Eddie here is a true gentleman.” Steve says, turning his grin back towards him and thank god his hair covers his ears because Eddie knows they’re fucking bright red too. “The kids adore him just as much as me.”

“I bet that little girl is just thrilled that he won.” The cashier continues, and Eddie would bet all his teeth that Erica would rather fight a bear than be referred to as a “little girl.”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie manages, voices several octaves higher than normal.

Looks away, as he’s handed the receipt so he doesn't have to face the fact that he paid for a date with Steve Harrington.

That he'd made just as much of a show as Eddie had and fucking flirted with him after.

It didn't matter that they'd both done this for the kids.

This shit was gonna be the hottest gossip topic for all those annoying church ladies, he just knew it.

(“The little shits even talked me into DMing the game!” He howls into the phone to Gareth, after Eddie had gone home, screamed into his pillow, and then frantically called his best friend.

"At least you can make date related jokes." Gareth replies, and he keeps swearing he’s not laughing, but he is, the traitor.

“That makes things worse, not better, Gare!”)

[joshlmbrt]

NOW PLAYING;

Make Up Your Mind - s. harrington drabble

‘MAKE UP YOUR MIND. LET ME LIVE OR LET ME LOVE YOU.’

w; r makes steve choose, steve literally cannot make up his mind, ambiguous ending, based in season 2!

an: song is so steve-coded while he’s in love with nancy and stringing r along so i had to do it.

-> VALENTINES PLAYLIST HERE

It makes your blood boil - the two of them together. And it shouldn’t, because Steve likes you now. Not Nancy.

Right?

Watching him follow her around like some sort of puppy following their owner was maybe what tipped you off with Steve’s feelings - or maybe it was them rubbing shoulders with one another while looking for something outside.

Your fist clench, eyes narrowing as you stare out the window above the sink in the Byers’ home.

You blink a couple of times, pulling away and making your way back towards the kids, helping Lucas clean up whatever mess was left of the glass so no one hurt themselves.

Your head picks up when the back door closes and Steve is the only one who steps in, no Nancy in sight, the look of sadness written all over his face.

Your heart drops and you quickly look away from him, eyes burning. You stand from your spot, Dustin and Lucas watching as you shoot up.

“You okay?” Dustin tilts his head.

“Uh,” You’re highly aware of Steve’s eyes on you - you’ve come to know what that feels like. “Yeah. Just have to use the bathroom.” Your voice quivers and you’re quickly out of the living room area, dumping the glass and making your way to the bathroom.

The door finally shuts and you let the tears fall, hand covering your mouth as you try to quieten the sobs that were falling from your mouth deep from your chest.

Your legs move and you’re sitting on the tub, waist bent letting your hands create a darkness, your tears smudging into your skin.

There’s a small knock on the door that has you straightening up and wiping at your cheeks. The door opens and Steve steps inside, shutting the door again and leaning against it as he stares at you.

Your eyes stay glued on his Nikes that were smudged with dirt and a couple drops of blood.

“You okay?” He blurts out first. Your eyes stay trained on his shoes before you’re standing and clearing your throat.

The tightness never goes away though.

Your eyes finally meets his and his face softens. “What’s wrong?”

“Why are you using me?”

“Using you?” His brows pinch together.

“Yes, Steve. Using me,” You step closer. “You clearly love her and you’re just stringing me along because you feel like you can’t have her again,”

His eyes glance down at the ground. “And it hurts. It hurt Steve because I-” You rub at your forehead. “I love you.”

You finally say the words and it causes his eyes to shoot back up to your own eyes, soft lips parting. It’s like he’s getting deja vu all over again from October at Tina’s party, but the roles reversed. “What?”

“I love you,” You repeat. “And I honestly shouldn’t have told you that because I honestly don’t know how you’re feeling right now. And I’m not going to ask you to say it back because… you don’t feel the same, Steve.”

He says your name and you’re shaking your head, pulling your hand away from his when he reaches for it.

“No. I don’t… I don’t want to hear what you want to say,” You pause, lips pursing before finishing. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to say something you don’t mean because it would make me feel better. I can’t keep creating this version of you in my head because I know who you’re always going to go back to.”

His lips rub together, eyes dropping to your shoes again.

“And I hate it because I know if you wanted to try this,” Your hand motions between the both of you. “Us again, I would always let you - no matter how many times you break my heart over and over again, I would let you,” You let out a shaky exhale, arms dropping to your side.

“But I want you to make up your mind,” Your voice cracks a bit. “I’m not going to be someone you settle for.” You shake your head. The bathroom felt suffocating - you needed to leave. You step past him, opening the door and walking out and back into the living room leaving Steve to his thoughts.

💌 steve tags; @officerrrfriendly, @keerygal, @halflifejess, @queercodedcharacter, @whisperingwillowxox, @alltoomay, @hazydespair, @marrowfrog00, @lavendermunson

💌 some moots - if you would like to be untagged, let me know!; @s6raphic, @southerngothicchic, @stevesxyellowxsweater, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @yourfavoritewitchbitch, @starksbabie, @rosebudsgarden, @readbydayana, @thecreelhouse, @reysorigins

thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, requests, likes, & feedback is encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated! 🧸

[selenitesdawn]

Could we get a story with a touch starved!Robin x reader, where reader is taking care of Robin's wounds and Robin gets emotional at how gentle she's being treated, because I'd imagine Robin didn't get much attention like that from how she hands romance hahah, and maybe her feelings for reader end up spilling in the process

loved this request. thank you so much <3

Soft

pairing : robin buckley x fem!reader

warnings : wounds? but they aren’t described in detail

summary : after an unfortunate encounter with a demonic bat from the upside down, y/n treats robin’s wounds.

third person pov

“Okay Robin. Deep breaths.”

“I don’t think I can do this y/n.”

After finally getting back from the upside down, the Hawkins group already went back to planning another trip there. The group was distributed upon a hill, their stolen trailer standing on top while the teenagers prepared for another fight. Steve was busy preparing bottles of alcohol, Nancy modified her weapon with the help of Max, Eddie and Dustin practiced fighting with their self made shields while Erica and Lucas crafted weapons.

“You said you didn’t want rabies Robin, so please just let me help you with this.”, y/n pleaded with a bottle of vodka in her right hand.

Robin pressed her teeth together, her wounds hurting more badly as time passed by. Her right thigh was covered in bites, since one of those demonic bats attacked her pretty aggressively. On one hand she actually was scared of the pain the vodka would cause, on the other hand she just didn’t want y/n to stop giving her attention. Since Robin had been bitten by the bats, y/n hasn’t left her side. It felt good having her so close by. And it was the only thing that made the pain somehow bearable.

“I‘m just gonna do it okay? You can press my hand if you want to. It’s going to be much better soon, I promise.“, y/n exclaimed. She gave Robin her left hand to press on while carefully lifting the vodka bottle up.

Robin closed her eyes and tried to breathe in and out slowly.

“You’re doing so so good, just keep on breathing.”, y/n whispered softly.

She started pouring the alcohol over Robin’s thigh, the liquid cleaning the wound from any dirt. The blood infused vodka slowly dripped from her leg, as Robin still had her eyes closed. She pressed y/n’s hand strongly but still not as hard as she could, scared to hurt her best friend’s hand.

“Almost there Robin. Hold on.”, y/n mumbled.

She tried her best to be extra careful with Robin. If it was any other person, y/n would have probably just told them to not make a big deal and stop acting like a baby. But Robin is and has always been her soft spot.

When the wound seemed to be clean, y/n put the bottle aside and lifted Robin’s chin.

“All done. See?”

Robin opened her eyes and quickly gazed over her thigh before giving y/n a smile.

“Thank you y/n.”, Robin said softly.

Some seconds passed, Robin’s eyes stuck staring at y/n’s. They were one of the most beautiful things the girl had ever encountered. It was hard not to get lost in them. Especially since Robin has had a giant crush on her friend since primary school.

“You’re still pressing my hand Robin.”, y/n giggled, making Robin blush instantly.

“Sorry.”, Robin replied shyly, her cheeks covered in a red taint. She dropped the hand and focused on the grass beneath her.

Y/n carefully bandaged the bad parts before turning her attention back to Robin.

“It’s okay. We should take care of your scratches now. And I only need one hand to do so.”, y/n decided. She took Robin’s hand back in hers and gave her a warm smile.

Robin looked up and nodded eagerly, startled by the act of physical affection. Now that she thought about it, y/n and her have never had much physical contact. They would hug now and then, maybe when they saw each other after a long time or if one of them had a special day. But holding hands? This was different.

Y/n grabbed some ointment and started applying it gently on the scratches on Robin’s leg. She took her time, carefully covering each scratch. She even paid attention to the tiny ones which were barely noticeable. Robin admired her in awe. The way y/n’s hands glided over her leg, her fingers as soft as silk.

“I was really scared for you down there.”, y/n commented with her head down, still focusing on the scratches.

Robin slightly pressed her lips together, a soft smile forming on her face.

“It was scary. But.. I’m here. With you. And that’s all that matters.”, she replied quietly.

When every single scratch was taken care of, y/n put the ointment away and started blowing against Robin’s leg softly. The air hit her wounded skin, cooling it down. Y/n‘s free hand rested on Robin‘s spared leg, softly brushing her thumb up and down to calm her nerves.

Robin closed her eyes, enjoying every second of it. She got lost in the moment. Lost in the soft treatment y/n gave her. The feeling of y/n‘s hand in hers. For a minute Robin even forgot the pain. Just then a hot tear escaped her eye, rolling down slowly.

Y/n looked up to find a crying Robin.

“Robin? Are you okay? Does it hurt?”, y/n started panicking. She immediately stopped and pressed Robin‘s hand.

Robin looked up and shook her head smiling.

“No, no. It doesn‘t. I‘m just…”, Robin stopped talking for a moment. She just took in y/n‘s face. Her worried expression. It took Robin months to realize but it was the face of the person she had fallen for.

“You‘re just?”, y/n asked concerned.

“Nobody has ever been this loving or gentle with me. Like ever. And I know.. I know we just got back from this super scary place and.. situations like this confuse people. It makes them think irrationally. I guess. But…”, Robin started saying. She took a deep breath, gathering up all the courage she had left after this scary day.

“But I think I.. I think I… think we should go on a date. After this, maybe. When all of this is over, you know?”, Robin finally managed to say.

Y/n started grinning, her hand still intertwined with Robin’s.

“I think that would be a great idea.”, she replied happily.

Robin continued crying, obviously overwhelmed with all the emotions she had felt in such a short time span. Y/n just put her arms around the girl, rubbing her back gently until her sobs stopped. After that they just remained for a while, holding each other close, cuddling on top of the hill while the world around them seemed to collapse.

[imfinereallyy]

Placeholders

another birthday bit, unrelated to earlier, but something I wrote on my birthday. it’s a bit sad, I’m sorry.

There is an empty space on the couch.

There is an empty space on the couch between Dustin and Mike. The light from the window touches it gently. Making the Byers-Hoppers worn leather couch glow a soft brown. The house is filled with noise and chatter; a happiness that was once lost resides here.

Steve Harrington turns 24, and there is empty space on the couch.

Steve knows Max wouldn’t have sat there. That spot is not reserved for her. She would have sat on the floor between El’s legs while El brushed her hair softly with her fingers, or she would have draped herself over the edge of Lucas’ chair, teasing him with her head hooked on his shoulder.

Steve aches. He sees her in the missing pieces sometimes. A space in the car, a hand grasping at nothing, a laugh when there has only been silence. As if they are all moving in the same ways they did years before, not filling in the holes, just moving forward with gaping parts of themselves.

The house is full of noise, and love, and laughter. Robin leans her head on the tops of Steve’s knees, her hand braiding away at the new friendship bracelet she’s making him. He gets one every birthday. Will and El are drawing on a giant birthday card that Steve knows he’ll hang in his dingy apartment. Nancy and Erica are chattering away in the corner about something that will make Steve’s head spin, he’s sure. Everyone is here; everyone is safe. Steve thinks sometimes he will lose this; they will all push him away. But they come back time and time again. Except…

It’s Steve’s 24th birthday, and there is an empty space on the couch.

Steve Harrington is 24 years old, and Eddie Munson never makes it past twenty. And there is a space, that really isn’t his, but is there for him anyway.

Steve grieves.

He knows it’s unfair. Steve didn’t really know him. They were only ever sideways of each other. Paths crossed one another but never at the same time. A distance in a small place.

Steve feels bad at times, knows they could have done great things. Lead their friends on their strange journeys. Made each other better. He believes that they were more similar than they once thought. Different sure, but would have understood each other somehow.

Steve thinks they were kinda like stars in the same galaxy. Both shine brightly, both guide the way, but too far apart to say goodbye when the other burns too quickly.

When Steve had known him, it was temporary. Eddie had been a temporary person in the life of Steve Harrington. It isn’t a bad thing per se, but an unfortunate truth. Their time together was, although not very long, is held closely to Steve. It was important.

Steve thinks it’s unfair that he gets all the time; he gets all this time to waste, and be happy about it. Angry. Sad. Steve gets to feel, and Eddie gets an empty space.

Steve hears someone’s laugh from across the room. He wants to hold it in his hands and bottle it up, put it on a shelf for safekeeping. It’s not as rare as it used to be, time heals some things, but he finds it makes him want it more. Keep it close. The kids, who are not kids, shout and scream and yell, “Steve, you be the tiebreaker!”. There is never silence, only sounds, so they never really see the gaps that remain.

But Steve thinks about the smile Eddie had once sent his way. The slight tick of the lip into laugh lines. Steve craves for that moment again. Not because it meant anything, not because it held some secret. But because it was good, and Steve at the time didn’t really know much of that.

Steve knows, if the space on the couch was filled, Steve would be in love.

Their time together doesn’t prove this, he knows and is not delusional, but Steve can feel it in his gut.

At times, you meet a person and realize they are going to stick around for a while. And other moments, you meet someone and don’t notice that you were meant to know them until your chance has passed.

There are instances you meet someone, and you feel as if you should say “Hello again.” Even though you are meeting for the first time.

Steve can’t help but notice more time has passed since he left, then the the amount of time he knew him.

Steve knows it’s selfish. It’s selfish to grieve something that was never his, to grieve the idea of a person. But he can’t help the mourning that comes when he wakes. He can’t help but think there is a laugh he is supposed to know, like his favorite song. He can’t help but think, Eddie Munson should have made it to 24.

Steve can tell the rest miss him, even the ones who didn’t know him. There was a role Eddie was supposed to fill, a balance thrown off by his absence. Steve sometimes catches them all trying to put the pieces back together of a ghost. They’ll take his old clothing from Wayne, read a book left on his nightstand, and tap their fingers to the beat of a song Eddie once knew. It feels like they are all trying to build him from scratch.

The party sings Steve happy birthday; they try to squeeze all the candles on it. Hopper yells at them, tells the kids it’s a fire hazard, but makes no move to stop them. The boys are yelling to wish for things they want. The girls, El, tells him to wish for love. Jonathan takes a photo of him blowing out his candles. Robin squeezes his hand.

I wish I could have known.

They cut the cake; they spread out again. This time Lucas sits on the edge of his chair, like he’s leaving space for only one person to come back and sit. No one makes a move to share with him. There is an empty space on the couch. The sun no longer touches it; only the warm lamp light reaches its corners.

Steve doesn’t think he knew Eddie Munson very well, but he likes to believe that Eddie would have liked this. He would have liked the noise. He would have liked a mismatched family. He would have liked celebrating a meaningless birthday of a friend he didn’t have. Steve likes to think they wouldn’t have been friends for long. He knows, somehow, Eddie would have loved him too.

There is an empty space on the couch. Steve doesn’t plan on filling it anytime soon.

***

Sorry for any of the tense changes or mistakes, this was more of a stream of thought piece. It’s bittersweet.

[steddieas-shegoes]

For your drabbles: Steddie babysitting someone’s baby and deciding that they want one too 💗

Max and Lucas delaying their honeymoon was a shock to everyone until they sat everyone down after their wedding and explained why.

Max was pregnant, and even though they hadn't planned on having kids anytime soon, they were excited.

Everyone was excited for them.

No one was as excited as Steve.

"My first grandchild!" He said dramatically as he hugged them both.

He was the first call when they found it was a boy, Lucas sobbing on the phone equal parts excited and scared while Max poked fun at both of them for crying. He was the one Max called on to plan the baby shower because the Sinclairs were insisting she had to have one.

And he was the first call when Max went into labor two weeks early.

He woke Eddie up, panicked, rushing to get there because Max didn't want anyone but him and Lucas.

When he found out the reason she wanted him there was because they were naming their son after him, he cried for almost an hour straight.

He was their designated babysitter. If they needed him for a date night, he was there with his own diaper bag for baby Steve. When they finally reached a point where they felt comfortable going on their honeymoon, Steve was prepared.

They'd be gone for five days.

Eddie was nervous, had never had to take care of a baby for that long before.

But Steve was ready.

The first two days were uneventful, they kept up as much of the routine Max and Lucas told him about as possible while Eddie still had to work and Steve had to lesson plan for the upcoming year.

But on the third day, baby Steve woke up with a small fever.

"Nothing to worry about yet, he still has an appetite and isn't sleeping more than usual," Steve said when Eddie started to worry.

"Should we call them?"

"No, not yet."

Eddie called into work, wanted to make sure he was home in case he needed to help in some way, even though Steve insisted it would be fine.

Baby Steve was doing okay until the afternoon. His fever spiked and he got cranky, but he wouldn't sleep like he usually did for his afternoon nap.

"Alright, let's try some Motrin."

The Motrin worked for about an hour.

Eddie was rocking baby Steve in his arms as he paced the room, Steve on the phone with the pediatrician explaining what was going on.

"So?" Eddie asked when he was done on the phone.

"Said if it gets above 102 and he stops taking the bottle to take him to the ER, but other than that just let it run its course."

"So we're in for a long night."

"Yep."

But they took turns, quickly found a cycle of switching off every two hours so they could sleep, soft forehead kisses between them when they handed the baby off between them.

By mid-morning the next day, the fever broke and baby Steve was completely back to normal.

Steve watched from his spot in front of the stove as Eddie danced through the room holding a giggling baby Steve, fond smile on his face.

"We should have a baby."

Eddie froze and turned to him, still patting baby Steve on the back slowly.

"I mean, we could. We should. We're good at this."

Eddie blinked.

"I know we said we would wait to talk about it until we could buy a house, but we have a two bedroom apartment already! And we both have stable jobs and have money in savings and we're at an age where most of our friends are planning on it."

Steve felt his heart sink as Eddie remained silent, tried to settle himself into not having kids for a while longer.

Then Eddie's arm wrapped around his waist, making him turn around.

"I'd love to have babies with you. Let's talk about it when little Stevie here isn't around and figure out what our best option is, okay?"

"Really?" Steve beamed at him, unable to help the way he bounced up and down a couple of times in excitement.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Little Stevie needs a friend, don't ya kiddo?"

Baby Steve smacked his hand against Eddie's cheek before reaching for his hair like he always did if he didn't have a toy in his hand.

"We're gonna be dads?"

"Yeah, my love. Good ones, too."

[steviewashere]

For the kiss prompt....Steddie and 40 please because I saw it and had a burning need for it!

❤️❤️

Okay, this one is far less angsty (I'm hoping) than yesterday's, lol. But I appreciate this prompt a lot. <3

Number 40: "Because the world is ending."

Tags: Season 4, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, First Kiss, Slight Love Confession, Steve Harrington has a Bisexual Awakening, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Lives, Last Minute Promises, Protective Steve Harrington

💕—————💕 There was a weight in the way Eddie’s vest laid on Steve’s back. Something that nailed him to the floor, kept him under the clouds but above ground, that anchored him to existence. It provided a sense of security that Steve hadn’t felt in…three or more years.

But there was something about Eddie’s gaze, too, that provided that same amount of comfort. Just one glimpse, one stupid little sentence about lost loves, one panicked nervous fit of laughter—it was enough to make something inside Steve squirm. The same thing he kept away in his own Pandora’s box, deep inside the crevice of his chest behind sinew. It’s where Tommy existed at one point, maybe a few other boys from elementary school. He knew what it was, the pull in Eddie’s gaze. Or, really, the magnetism that Eddie’s eyes held.

It made Steve want to stare back. Made him want to stop the world’s rotation. Made him want to find a way to reverse time, prevent all the evils of his life, find Eddie sooner. He wanted Eddie the same way mosquitos yearn for amber light. Icarus to the sun. Something strong, invasive, all consuming.

Love, he realized. He wanted love from Eddie.

Which makes it all worse when they’re going over game plans. Eddie going with Dustin. Dustin going with Eddie. Nancy and Robin going with him to the Creel house. Max and Lucas and Erica being all too far. There was that pull. A protective surge. Flames in his veins.

It was all so stupid. So careless. Everything they chose to do. The way Eddie knew about some gun store. How his body read nonchalance, but the way his hands shook when pointing out what kind of weapons they could find there. Steve wanted to reach down and wrap his own hands around Eddie’s, squeeze them still, bring his knuckles to between his eyebrows. Do something silly. Like kiss them or kiss Eddie or carve a spot behind his ribs and force Eddie inside of there.

That magnetic pull is back full force once they’re right side up in the Upside Down. Dustin’s a whole four inches shorter than Eddie. Covered in scrap and a hood. And he looks childish, dorky, how he should have been the last several years. Yet there’s a matured gleam to his eyes that haunts Steve, even as he stares it down. And when he glances to Eddie, looking reasonably the same—immature and dorky—green vest that isn’t zipped up, DIY’d leather jacket, ammo belt, and a pair of ill-fitting shiny boots. Steve can only wonder what it would be like to see Eddie not here, not in these circumstances, in his usual appearance. How more…beautiful he’d be if he weren’t so damned afraid.

If Eddie weren’t staring at Steve with something like goodbye. He forces himself to turn away, to stop looking, to stop wanting when there’s no sure presence of tomorrow. It’s like he’s being gifted a litter of kittens, being told not to get attached. Except, he’s already come up with names and collar colors and places where he could put beds. He’s got an idea of where Eddie would be soft if Steve could touch his skin. What nicknames would make him flush and what petnames would make him melt. Steve doesn’t want to be attached, but at the same time, he doesn’t think he ever had the choice.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie calls to him.

A crunching step forward. Steve forces himself frozen to his spot. His back tenses, shoulders hiking, the axe on his back brushes his hair. It’s cold, the metal is solid and real and sharp. His hands are shaking and his eyes are burning and there’s an iron grip around his lungs. Stomach turning and lurching and falling straight to his feet. He doesn’t turn, not yet. Not with the stern and sudden confidence to Eddie’s voice. Don’t get attached, he’s not yours to keep, a voice echoes deep inside him. I want him. I want him, though, that’s not fair, and that’s the petulant part of him. Something he thought he lost when he knocked on Jonathan Byers’s door.

He expects Eddie to continue, but he doesn’t. The rush of blood is loud in Steve’s ears. There’s no other voices. No other sounds. He’d think that the demo-creatures would’ve sounded off by now, but there’s nothing. The weight of everything, he realizes, is behind him.

Over his shoulder, Eddie’s eyes are fierce. No longer pulling on Steve’s arm, rather squeezing him tight by the shoulders, hauling him into his orbit, pressing their bodies and souls tight. Steve is startled and stirring and flippant. He shouldn’t leave. Doesn’t want to. Not when Eddie is…Eddie is what he wants.

And while his eyes are fierce, they are checking out. Somewhere else. And yet, they’re here. For Steve to fall into. And for him to cradle the sure absence Eddie is preparing to make.

“Make him pay,” Eddie’s voice demands. It’s neutral, neither loud and overbearing nor soft and assuring. His voice is a grenade, ring pulled but hammer still intact. Steve wants to pick it up and place it inside his chest. Wants to obliterate at the impact and sound.

He swallows. Wavers. Nods. And turns away.

But he doesn’t take a first step. He just stands, caught between worlds and passions and full body aches. A shiver crawling up his spine and into the back of his mouth. He swears he tastes it, decay. Something leaving and rotting, just as Eddie’s footsteps begin to retreat. To dissipate. Steve doesn’t want to forget the sound.

Without much on his mind, without any preamble or warning, Steve whirls back around. Stomps inside Eddie’s dusty footprints. Their shoes aligning to one another, the same size. His eyes burn lasers into Eddie’s back, but neither of them stop moving. It’s not until Steve is nearly at the front door to the Munson’s trailer that he’s able to grasp to something. His left hand wraps around Eddie’s right forearm. Gripping with the force of hippopotamus jaws. And he tugs Eddie to him. To face him.

Eddie’s eyes look to him in trepidation. There’s something else, like he’s realizing he’s been caught. An apology forming on the tip of his tongue. Before he can part his lips to say anything, Steve takes his right hand and forces his fingernails to indent into Eddie’s cheeks, squishing his lips to be slightly puckered, and drags him towards his face.

Their noses meet first. Soft and tantalizing. Breathing the same air. Steve, for a moment, can smell Eddie’s breath. And he doesn’t care, that neither of them have brushed their teeth in several days. That they’re tasting each other’s rot and stale words. He doesn’t care.

Slowly, he leans the rest of the way in. Pressing his lips to Eddie’s softly. Just soaking in their warmth. How dry and chapped and splitting they are. Pushes in more firmly, fluttering his eyes shut at the sensation. Breathing in gulps through his nose. Messy and wet on Eddie’s lips, but all the same a: ‘The world is ending, so nothing matters, but you matter and my world will end otherwise.’

And when he pulls his head back, he notices that Eddie wasn’t responsive at all. He wasn’t, but Steve doesn’t feel rejected, for once. Or negated. Or pulled taut and snapped in half. His chest glows with a low-level warmth, radiating between them like a candle’s near-dying flame. He digs his fingernails out of Eddie’s skin and cups his cheeks instead. Like protecting that little bit of light melting away at them. He opens his eyes, met with bewilderment and silence and fear and curiosity and…yearning. But also, there’s something shining back on Eddie’s face like a dream has just come true.

Steve takes a sharp, quick inhale. Whispers, “Don’t be a hero.” He’s already said it, he knows that. But…Eddie was never going to listen and he should’ve known that from the get-go. “Don’t be stupid,” he continues, “and you come back here. Come back to me.”

“Wha—“

“Come back to me,” Steve urges. “I want to know you. And I want to have you. I want to…I want to need you all the time, you understand me? Come back to me, all in one piece, away from danger. Or else I will kill you myself.” He nods once. Swipes his thumb over Eddie’s still jutting bottom lip. “Promise,” he demands lowly, “promise I can see you again.”

Eddie’s gulp is loud between them. His breath puffing hot and cold over Steve’s fingers. But his voice has lost all ferocity. Going soft and controlled and loving. “I promise, Stevie,” he murmurs, “I promise I’ll find you back here.”

Steve nods one more time. Short and affirmative and final. He draws his hands away. Zips up Eddie's vest. And brings them back to being limp at his sides. The very foundation of his being shakes. “Good. And I like that. I like that name, Eds. Call me that again, promise.”

“Promise,” Eddie echoes.

“Not a goodbye,” Steve feels the need to say.

“Just a see you later,” Eddie states. And there’s an honest tone to him that settles all the frayed nerve endings inside of Steve. Before he gets the chance to turn back, Eddie gently cradles his face in turn. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “Just for luck,” he murmurs, “be safe.”

There’s a weight in those words, too. Steve tethers to them.

And they ring out at the final blow to Vecna, as the flames engulf on all sides of the house. When they return to one another and all that’s wrong is a splash of ugly dark blood on Eddie’s cheek.

They’re safe. The world will always end, but they’re safe.

💕—————💕 Kiss Ask Game <3

[honeyoru]

resonance (steve harrington x superpower! reader) chap. nine TEASER

series masterlist

a/n: tysm to all the lovlies who are so patient with me. since i've been trying to write longer chapters, i don't have an estimate of when chap. 9 will be posted. until then, enjoy this tidbit to see what's coming next.

ALSO i've finally started a taglist, so if you'd like to be notified when I update, please comment and let me know!

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You had never felt more useless than you did sulking on the Byers’ couch, listening to Steve and Dustin bicker as they attempted to shove a dead Demodog into Joyce’s fridge. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s a biohazard,” Max called to them from her spot next to you, a faint look of disgust crossing her face at the squelching noises you could hear. 

“That’s what I said!” Steve’s muffled voice yelled back, cursing when something fell out of the fridge and crashed onto the floor. 

“Like you even know what a biohazard is Hair-ington,” Dustin yelled back.

“Sticking a monster corpse in the fridge next to Joyce’s casserole,” Lucas snarked from where he sat against the living room wall. “Definitely the best way to preserve your ‘scientific discovery,’” you rolled your eyes, unable to fight a smile. He snickered when he saw you and Max were both amused, the slingshot on his leg bouncing with every move. 

The soft jostling of the fridge rang out every now and then as the boys continued to push the monster inside. “Get the door, man!”

“What do you think I’m doing!”

Your eyes shot to the ceiling. This is what Hopper would rather have you do than kick monster ass.

“Ew, Jesus,” You heard Steve finally breathe as the slam of the door echoed through the house. 

“I wanted to make another sandwich,” you lamented dryly when they strolled back into the living room, Dustin looking pleased as punch, Steve… not so much.

He sent you a worried look before glaring at the kid, perching on the edge of the couch arm. “Your ‘scientific discovery’ is gonna be the reason we die if our superhero here has no energy, dipshit.” 

“Then go make her a sandwich!” Dustin bit back, crossing his arms. “You can still reach most of the stuff in the fridge.”

Mike groaned, interrupting Steve’s insistence that Upside Down germs surely would have contaminated everything inside the fridge by now. Mini-Wheeler had been pacing anxiously nearly the whole time they were preserving the dog. “This is so stupid!”

“Mike, would you just stop already?” Lucas said, letting his head fall back against the wall.

“You weren't in there, okay, Lucas?” the lanky boy shook his head. “That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.”

“Demodogs!” 

“She’ll be fine,” you ignored Dustin, entirely unconvinced of the whole situation but steadfast in trusting the girl. “El’s strong.”

“See!” Lucas nodded, pointing at you. “Nightcrawler killed a ton of them anyway, El will be fine. The chief will take care of her.” 

You squinted at the nickname and were just about to respond when Mike scoffed loudly. 

“Like El needs protection. But it should’ve been you to go instead of her,” he spat towards you. “It's too dangerous.”

You hardly reacted to the boy apart from your eyebrows raising, a sharp contrast to the other occupants in the room, who held their breath at his aggression. 

It did nothing but make you pity him, however. You pitied all of them, really, for having to deal with this. 

Outwardly, however, you refrained from showing it, choosing instead to appear wholly unfazed by his tantrum. “First of all, take the bass out of your voice, Baby Wheeler,” you said sweetly with a deadly smile, crossing your arms. “You said it yourself, she doesn’t need protection. It’s not like I wanted to stay here, but I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t believe in her.” 

He turned bright red, unable to mask the fear that was still in his eyes. You felt your heart sting in sympathy. “Yeah right,” he seethed, arms flailing around dramatically. “You barely even argued to go!” He continued after clocking the way your left eye just barely twitched. “It’s not like you care about them. You’d probably rather have them die than you, you… you cowardly—”

The air was still all of a sudden, with your hand gripping his collar from where you had teleported (unnecessarily) the few feet in front of you, choosing to lean down in his face while the rest of the group gasped at what he had said. 

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