#steve harrington x eddie munson

[thefreakandthehair]

top of the hill

@steddiemicrofic | written for ‘top’ | wc: 510 | rating: teen & up | tags: steve pov, steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, first date, drive-in movies, hand-holding, pure fluff

As the sun sets beneath the horizon, shades of pink and blue giving way to orange and gold like a melting water color between tree branches on either side of his car, Steve fiddles with the knobs on the stereo. Static fills the space between himself and Eddie, nothing broken words and inaudible noises. Bright animations down on the large projector screen encourages them to buy a soft drink or a—

“— thick, juicy hot dog!” 

Eddie snorts to himself, covering his mouth with a piece of hair. 

“Great timing,” Steve mutters, grinning to himself and leaning back into his seat. 

It’d been his idea, coming to the drive-in with Eddie, but that’s as far as he’d gotten in his plans. Truly, Eddie agreeing to come with him was further than he’d imagined he’d get but now he’s here, in the suffocating closeness of his BMW’s front seat at the top of the hill, and he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. 

The past year has been a slew of pizza nights at Eddie’s new trailer, smoking on the hood of his van, slowly convincing Eddie that baseball isn’t that terrible and being slowly convinced that maybe metal isn’t that terrible either. 

How could it be? Eddie’s eyes light up every time he plays Dio, and nothing that makes him smile like that could possibly be bad. 

Anyway, Steve didn’t ask Eddie to come see Grease with him at the drive-in as a strictly friendly activity, and he’s at a loss for how to bridge that gap. 

“Got the goods,” Eddie says, producing two immaculately rolled joints with a grin and wiggle of his eyebrows and tearing Steve out of his own thoughts. 

If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d think it’s that same Dio-Smile. 

“Me too,” Steve retorts. 

He twists around and grabs a plastic bag from the grocery store laden with what he’s learned are Eddie’s favorites: Blue Razz Poprocks and Nerds, a couple of Moon Pies sitting on top to avoid getting squished. Eddie digs into the bag and grabs the Nerds first, chomping away as the familiar sound of Frankie Valli’s voice signals the start of the movie. 

Steve’s seen Grease more times than he cares to admit— maybe because of Kenickie, maybe because of Sandy, he’s not sure anymore— so he can follow along mindlessly. Thank God for that, because Eddie seems to get closer and closer as the movie continues, his shoulder brushing against Steve’s with every raise of his hand to pop more snacks into his mouth, and he can’t think about anything else.

He wants to close the distance, do something stupid like hold his hand and somehow, it feels scarier than Vecna or Demodogs ever did. But he’s Steve Harrington so sure, lacing his fingers through Eddie’s and squeezing intentionally for the first time is terrifying, but being afraid has never stopped him before. 

Seconds pass and he holds his breath as the projector dims to the tune of Blue Moon, exhaling with a growing smile when Eddie squeezes back. 

[hornedqueenofhell]

Summon me Senpai

This is a dead end fic that I may pick back up someday, but for now I leave you all with this insanity. Enjoy some Demon!Steve.

“Watch it Munson, you’re gonna smudge the line!” Grant huffs as he pushes against Eddie’s legs, which are already tucked into his chest, trying to complete the line of the circle that Eddie’s sneakers are already nudging against. Grant has the steadiest hands out of all of them which is why he’s drawing the elaborate as fuck summoning circle they’re all trying not to fuck up right now.

“Remind me why we had to do this in your fucking shed Jeff?” Eddie whines, trying to squeeze himself even smaller while glaring at his best friend and guitarist. Jeff is also squished up in a corner like him but he keeps dealing with a rake almost falling on his head.

“You wanna be in charge of explaining what we’re doing to my ma if our stupid asses get caught drawing a demon summoning circle on her floors.” Jeff gives him the driest look he can manage with a few pieces of hair caught in the prongs of the rake.

“Uh no, no. I like not being skinned alive, thanks.” And with that he pipes down as Grant finishes up with the circle and Gareth lights various candles at strategic points. Eddie doesn’t even really believe in this stuff, none of them do. It just keeps people from messing with them. This was the product of boredom and Gareth’s garage being out of commission for practice.

“Aww come on guys, we so totally gonna summon a spooky demonnnn.” Gareth teases holding one of the candles under his chin and snickering. Eddie refrains from telling him that’s the way people talk about ghosts, but just barely.

“Yeah sure. Speaking of, what are we supposed to say to summon a demon?” His knees are starting to ache so he tries to shift into a more comfortable position. He braces one arm against the shed wall to help when he realizes that his foot has also fallen asleep, fuck. The wood groaning under his weight is not much of a comfort either.

“What do you mean?” Grant asks, eyeing Eddie’s movements distrustfully. Honestly it’s understandable because Eddie has two left feet even when one isn’t currently full of awkwardly painful pins and needles.

Eddie freezes before cracking his neck around towards Grant, “What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?! There’s always some sort of weird Latin dead language chant with this kind of shit. You can’t just summon a demon by batting your eyes and saying ‘notice me senpai!’” He says with batting eyes and clasped hands.

Now, Eddie is a dramatic fuck by nature, he can’t resist the chance to overdramatize anything. It has led to him tripping over bleachers, falling into lockers, and on one memorable occasion tripping over his own feet in a spectacular dive off the school theater’s stage. So he’s not exactly surprised when his still waking up foot gives and causes him to hit the ground hard on his knees, right on the line of the summoning circle. What does surprise him is that the entire circle starts glowing.

The smell of smoke infiltrates his nostrils but all of the candles are still in the correct place. There’s an unfamiliar pair of shoes in front of him that are attached to some light wash jeans none of the band would be caught dead in.

“You know, I normally ignore calls as stupid as yours but I just had to see who had the actual audacity.” Continuing his visual ride, Eddie sees tanned hands on hips and a bright yellow sweater before finally looking into the face of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Chestnut locks, hazel eyes, a map of moles he's salivating to put his mouth on. He opens his mouth to explain but all that wants to come out is filth.

As if able to read his mind the snarky, bitchy curl of his lip melts away to a dark, almost pitying look. The demon(?) clicks his tongue and crouches down, pouting at him exaggeratingly. “Aww, poor baby doesn't know how to talk to boys does he?” He pauses and glances around at the rest of the band who sit frozen around them, “present, equally nerdy company excluded.” He amends.

“There's no fucking way you're a demon.” Eddie finally blurts out. The demon throws his head back and laughs, it would be a beautiful sound if it wasn't dedicated to mocking him. He scrambles back to his feet, not comfortable with feeling so much like prey pinned under the demon's gaze.

“Just didn't feel like dressing up for someone who wasn't going to put the effort in. You guys didn't even sacrifice anything, what kind of satanists are you?” The guy seemed perfectly fine still crouching down and looking up at Eddie but something about it made Eddie feel wrong. Like the demon was allowing Eddie to loom over him to make him think he had power over him.

“We're not satanists man, just a very bored metal band.” Eddie steps closer, into the line of the already ruined circle, and offers the demon his hands to help him up.

The demon looks at him curiously, eyes wide and watching his hands warily, like he's waiting for Eddie to pull back with a laugh. Eddie continues to hold the position, even making a grabbing motion when the demon starts to reach out but hesitates. After a short wait he finally accepts. Warm hands slide past his palms to grab his forearms, eyes studying Eddie's face with deep confusion, before finally gripping and allowing Eddie to lift him up.

“You know you broke the circle right? There's nothing holding me back from wreaking havoc on this world, from killing all of you.” The demon points out once they're both standing. Eddie realizes that they're the same height and that throws him more than anything. He kind of always assumed if demons did exist that they'd be like eight feet tall with red skin, horns, tail… the works. But this demon just looks like a small town pretty boy, like the kind of guy he'd see walking the halls at his high school and crush on from afar.

“I think that ship kinda set sail when you responded to ‘notice me senpai’ with a yellow sweater.” Eddie plucks at the fabric and it's softer than he had imagined. He finds himself rubbing it between his fingers and only after realizing that he's sorta still holding hands with the demon. But the demon isn't exactly pulling away either, just watching Eddie's hands with this small smile that he's pretty sure would be devastating if it was aimed at his face.

“I suppose that's true.” He twists his hand around, freeing it from Eddie's hold, and takes his fingers instead, rubbing his thumb over Eddie's rings. “So, what do you want?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dude, did you seriously summon a demon without a deal in mind? Worst. Satanists. Ever.” The demon laughs and he was right, it is beautiful. Soft and breathy, even though he's still being laughed at. This one sounds more fond than condescending.

“We're not satanists, and why would we think to make a deal with a demon when we were pretty sure you didn't even exist?” Eddie shrugs and allows the demon to twist his rings around his fingers and rearrange them like he's playing a game with himself. He glances around at the rest of the band still standing frozen and wonders why he's not panicking more.

“I could give you fame? Fortune beyond your wildest dreams. Women or men, anything in between.” This feels more like a spiel than anything genuine from the demon, like he's reading off of a list of the most common demands.

“While that's a nice offer, no thank you. We want to get famous because the music we write reaches people like us. Not because they were made to like it. I've been poor my entire life, I won't say that money isn't a huge temptation, especially if it means I could repay my Uncle for taking me in.”

“It still sounds like you're saying no though, so what do you want?”

“Do I have to make a deal?” Eddie asks curling his fingers around the demon’s hand nervously, “Do I lose my soul no matter what?” The other man shakes his head with the most regretful look Eddie’s seen on the demon yet.

“I can ask one of your bandmates if you don’t want to make a deal, leave it up to them. But the deal certainly doesn’t have to be for your soul. There are other things you can trade, or offer. A sacrifice of sorts.” He leans in and inhales deeply at Eddie’s neck, letting out a shudder in response. “I can smell your interest.”

“What if I gave you a kiss?” Eddie offers, hoping that the demon can’t tell that he’s blushing. Wait, can he smell it? Going by the smirk on the other's face he definitely can.

“And what would you like in exchange for it?” The demon says, clearly playing along. Eddie has got to be the weirdest person to ever summon this demon before. And he probably wasn’t about to change that fact any time soon.

“A date? And perhaps your name.” While the money was tempting Eddie wanted it to be on his own terms. It was the only thing he could think to ask of the beautiful man standing before him.

“Call me Steve sweetheart.” Steve purrs as he pulls Eddie in for a filthy kiss. His tongue is longer than any humans and Eddie almost chokes as he feels it snake towards his throat. “Hmm, we’ll have to work on that. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight. Dress nice.” And with that the demon takes Eddie’s hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A new ring forms on Eddie’s ring finger, now free because Steve had rearranged them, a delicate silver band with a pure black stone in the center. Eddie had a feeling that no matter how hard he tried he’d never get this ring to come off.

He looks up to ask but Steve has disappeared and time seems to be moving again as Eddie now stands in the center of the ruined circle.

“Dude what the hell?! It took me almost an hour to draw that!” Grant looks ready to strangle him but Eddie is honestly still too rattled to think about it.

“Sorry, I gotta… I gotta go.” He bolts out of the shed only stopping long enough to snatch up the book that Gareth had gotten the damn circle out of before throwing himself into his van and driving to Chrissy’s house.

Her window is open so without thinking he shoves the spine of the book in his mouth and bites down before jumping to grab a branch from the tree outside her window and scrabbling up until he can dump himself through it into her bedroom.

“Fucking Christ Eddie I almost brained you with this!” The woman in question hisses from where she’s sat at her desk, an algebra book held at the ready. Eddie spits the book out and pants on her floor, he’s not fit enough for this. Thankfully Chris knows him well enough to tell when he’s a wreck so she abandons her homework and quickly comes to lay with him on the floor.

“What’s wrong Eds?”

Eddie takes a few more heaving breaths before he finds himself able to answer, “I made a deal with a demon.”

“You mean metaphorically right? Right?” She grabs his vest in her fists and looks like she’s ready to shake him. The wide eyed look on his face tells her all she needs to know and she does sharply shake him this time. “Spill. Now.”

“We were just fucking around! Famous last words I know but we weren’t being serious about it. Grant had just finished the stupid circle and asked what we were supposed to say to even summon a demon, which hellooooo are you serious? Gareth was talking like we were trying to summon a ghost, we weren’t even goofing around with anything in the book! I was making a joke, saying that you couldn’t summon demons by saying ‘notice me senpai’ but guess who’s eating crow on that one because apparently you can!”

“Let me make sure I have this straight so far, you Eddie Munson summoned a real demon, with a joke, and they answered.”

Eddie nods wildly and Chrissy buries her face in his chest with a groan, “I hate you, so much.” He shuffles onto his side to face her, the pair of them curled together like commas, legs tangling together and foreheads pressed to each other's.

“You loooooove me.” He counters making both of them giggle, Chrissy rocks her head against his and he closes his eyes, tipping further into the comforting motion. “He just looked like a normal guy. Was wearing a soft yellow sweater and fucking white Nikes. No horns, no hooves, just… like he'd have gone to school with us.”

“Appearances are deceiving Eddie, pretty sure you and I are a prime example of that.” She bites her lip looking nervous again, her fingers tighten in his shirt and tug, “what did you give him Eddie, what was the deal for?”

“Well, he said I had to make one. Offered me money, fame, sex the whole nine yards blah blah blah. Then I asked if I had to give him my soul, and he said no! So I said I'd give him a kiss if we could go on a date. Which I'm kind of only now realizing is a pretty weird thing to ask.” Eddie gives her tiny, unenthusiastic jazz hands as he finishes his story. “Oh and then he put this ring on me, pretty sure it's so I can't run away.”

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eeeeee! Congratulations! You deserve every single one! 🖤

Could I pretty please request:

Am I supposed to be scared now? In a Mafia AU. Vibes and item I'll leave up to your enormous, genius brain.

🖤🖤🖤

Thank you so much, Sam! 💖✨️ Hope you enjoy!

Worth the risk

Rated: E

Words: 992

Tags: Mafia AU; Hitman Eddie Munson; Dark Eddie Munson; Mob boss Richard Harrington; Secret relationship; intrigue; Referenced character death (RIP Tommy); Blood and violence; Knife play; Blood play; Groping; Dry humping

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

Nobody says anything as they make their way out of the Harrington villa, but by some unspoken agreement, they don't part ways yet. They linger in the driveway by the cars. 

Eddie knows better than to speak first. Instead, he lights a cigarette and lets the silence drag on, pretending to be brooding over the night’s events. He knows that somebody is bound to say something sooner rather than later. 

It’s Jeff who does, in the end. 

“Harrington’s losing it.” 

Gareth jumps and casts anxious glances all around himself, like he’s expecting to find the boss lurking somewhere in the shadows, while Frank shushes Jeff with a hectic gesture. 

“Shut up, are you insane?” 

Jeff shrugs petulantly, but he does lower his voice. “I'm just saying what everyone is thinking. That thing with Hagan? That was completely fucking bonkers, sending him to make that deal with the Carvers all alone. It’s almost like he wanted him to end up with a bullet through his head.” 

“Maybe he did,” Gareth says. “Rumor has it Hagan’s been making eyes at the son.” 

Eddie nods along solemnly with the rest of them. 

“All I’m saying is, it’s bad news,” Jeff mumbles. “He believes he’s invincible, that he can get away with anything. It’s dangerous for a man in his position to think like that.” 

“Then maybe he shouldn’t be.” Eddie lets the words linger, waiting until every single face is turned to him. “Be in that position, I mean.” 

Frank scoffs. “Yeah, right. Who’d even wanna do it instead? Junior seems much more interested in lounging by the pool and taking it up the-” 

“Nah,” Eddie is quick to deflect. “We’d need someone capable. Somebody younger, who knows how things work on the street.” 

“Someone like you?” 

“I wouldn’t know about that, Gare,” Eddie lies. “Just putting in my two cents on the matter.” 

Behind the garden wall, a light flickers alive, then dies again, quick as a heartbeat. Eddie grinds his cigarette under the heel of his boot. 

“Shit, just remembered I forgot something. Don’t wait for me, guys.” 

He feels their gazes on his neck as he walks back towards the house and doesn't bother hiding his grin. 

*

The hydrangeas are long past their bloom, decaying flower petals rustling under his feet. He doesn't lament their death, not when he knows that the seeds of something else are slowly taking root. 

The underwater lights of the pool bask the garden in an eerie glow, but he makes his way to the pool house unbothered. He has hardly ducked inside when a key clicks in the lock behind him. 

Eddie’s body moves on instinct and muscle memory. The key clatters off somewhere in the darkness,  and when the crimson veil lifts from his eyes, he has a warm body pressed against the wall, the edge of his knife licking at a shivering throat. A throat covered in the fading marks of his own teeth. 

“Damn, Stevie,” he hisses, retracting the blade and sliding it back into its holster. It leaves the faintest of cuts, tiny droplets of blood gathering against tan skin like dark beads. “Are you out of your mind? You can't just sneak up on people like that.” 

Steve scowls at him, face full of haughty disdain. He's beautiful in the glow of the pool seeping in from outside. He's always beautiful, of course, but something about the pale blue light rippling off his skin makes him look ethereal and downright unreal. Like an ancient deity, like a marble statue come alive.

“Excuse me?” he whispers, wriggling in Eddie’s hold. “What was I supposed to do? Nobody tells me shit, and then I overhear my dad talking on the phone about how one of his guys was killed. I just wanted-” 

“Aw,” Eddie coos. He leans into Steve’s space, scraping a toothy grin against the hollow of that pretty throat. His lips come away tasting like copper, leaving a bloody trail on Steve's skin. “Are you worried about me, honey? Why, I'm honored.” 

Steve pushes his head away with one palm against his cheek, but makes no further attempt at twisting out of his grip. 

“This isn't a fucking joke, Eddie. If my dad finds out about this, you'll be next in line for a bullet through the- Will you stop this?” 

Eddie lets Steve's thumb slide out of his mouth with an obscene, wet sound, nipping at the tender skin at its base as he goes. 

“Am I supposed to be scared now?” he drawls. “I'm not an idiot, I can look after myself.” 

“I know you can,” Steve confesses, tracing Eddie’s cheekbone with his thumb. It's still wet with his own spit, and the touch leaves a thin trail of moisture, cool in the stuffy air of the pool house. “But sometimes, I don't think you understand how dangerous this is.” 

“Believe me, darling, I’m well aware of the danger.” Eddie trails a hand over Steve’s throat, down his chest. The motion makes a drop of blood run from his neck into the collar of his shirt. He watches how it blooms on the white fabric, pretty like a flower, as he slips his hand between Steve's legs. “Good thing we both like it a little, dangerous, right?”

He gives the bulge in Steve’s pants a firm squeeze, and as always, the boy responds like the beautiful, needy little dream that he is. He rolls his hips, grinding himself into the touch, and wraps his arms around Eddie’s neck to slot their bodies closer together. Eddie bites down on that perfect, pink bottom lip and laughs against it when Steve moans. 

“Woah, honey! What happened to being careful?”

“What's life without a little risk?” Steve smiles, looking at him from under his long lashes. “And besides, you made me drop the key, so one of us will end up on his knees anyhow.” 

Eddie finds he can't argue with that.

More celebration ficlets

[steddie-island]

Tender Headed

I saw this post by @mothofmyth and couldn't stop myself. I hope this does your idea justice. ❤️ ao3 | Divider by @cafekitsune

Someone else was standing at Steve’s usual station, instead of his usual girl. 

It wasn’t a girl at all. 

“Hey! Do you have an appointment?” not-regular-stylist asked.

“No– yes? I, uh– I have a standing appointment. With Kayla?” Steve brushed his fingers through his hair and looked around at the otherwise empty salon. 

He’d been looking forward to this for weeks, practically since the end of his last appointment. The thought of having to cancel, of having to reschedule because she was out sick or something– it made Steve’s skin feel too tight, itchy.

It made tears prick at his eyes like this was a bigger deal than just a stupid haircut. 

Which. Okay, maybe it was for him, but it’s not like any of the stylists, like this stranger , needed to know that. 

“Are you okay, man?”

Steve blinked, bringing the man back into focus again. He was pretty, with long curls piled up on top of his head and a delicate black hoop hanging from his septum. His cut off sleeves showed the ink decorating his arms and disappearing under the fabric. 

He had to shake himself to bring the man’s voice back, to stop ogling him. 

“--won’t be back for a few months,” he was explaining. 

“What?” Steve knew this guy probably thought he was an idiot, but his mind was thick and sticky and nothing this guy was saying was sticking. 

“Early maternity leave,” he said again, patiently. “I’m Eddie, I’m taking her station over while she’s gone.” He gestured to the empty salon again. “I don’t have any appointments right now, if you’re cool with a substitute…” 

Steve almost turned around, but there was something about the wide brown eyes that fixed on him that made him stay. 

“I… sure. Yeah.” It wasn’t like he was that attached to his hair anyway. Yeah, he wanted it to look good, but not to the point that everyone else thought he did. 

It wasn’t about the haircut. 

He followed Eddie back to the washing station. Even though this was a stranger who was going to be taking care of him, Steve still felt a shiver go through him as he got situated. 

There were a few clinks, metal against ceramic. Steve tipped his head back enough to see Eddie removing several chunky rings and placing them in a little dish. A towel was rolled up carefully and placed beneath his neck. 

“Tell me if this is too much.” 

The water was cool, which Steve was prepared for. What he wasn’t prepared for was the way those long delicate fingers touched him. Kayla was gentle, but it was nothing like this. 

The way Eddie scrubbed so carefully at his scalp made Steve melt. Each fingertip was so deliberate in its movements, in the way his hair was gathered back and brushed out of his face. Eddie’s fingers trailed over his ear and Steve had to bite his lip. 

Maybe this was too much, but he couldn’t stop it. 

He’d never been handled like this. No one had ever touched him like he was a delicate, breakable thing. Sure, he cuddled with Robin. He got to hug the kids, and Joyce, and Claudia.

But this was… something else. 

Eddie wasn’t getting anything out of this– not the same way everyone else got something, like, paying him for his service was different, right? 

Steve was going to see it as that, anyway. He imagined Eddie wasn’t touching him like this because he was getting a big tip from it. 

He imagined that Eddie was brushing water off of his forehead with a knuckle because he just wanted to know what the skin felt like there. Those calloused fingers were tucking the hair behind his ears because he wanted to study the curve of his tragus– maybe wondering what Steve would look like with a hoop there, like the one in his own ear. 

Eddie’s thumb was wiping away water from his cheeks because he wanted to know if Steve’s cheeks were rough with stubble or not, and not because this was just a professional courtesy.

Only maybe this wasn’t a professional courtesy. 

Because it wasn’t just water that Eddie had sprayed on him. Steve was fucking crying . 

He wanted to run, but before he could even get up Eddie was putting a damp hand on his shoulder. 

“Stay. You’re okay.” Eddie’s voice was a low rumble that Steve wanted to hide in. “I’ve got you, big boy.” 

How was Steve supposed to not listen to that? He settled back into the chair and let Eddie rinse away the shampoo. Then those nimble hands were working the conditioner into his hair just as gently. The touches were a little more solid now, though. Eddie’s fingers grazed his neck, touched his cheek, wiped more tears from his cheeks. 

“You’re not the only person who comes in here for this.” Steve couldn’t even find the words to ask if he was that transparent. It wasn’t like the crying couldn’t have been from him being tender headed, or from the water being too hot. He was too focused on Eddie speaking to him to try to make excuses for himself. 

Eddie’s voice was soft and low. It was comforting, and it wasn’t hard for Steve to imagine how he would sound if he were singing, the way the words would wrap around him. Would it make him feel the same way he felt with his hair wrapped around Eddie’s hands? 

He was in the shampoo chair for three times as long as he normally would be. Eddie took his time with the conditioner and gave it extra time to sit. He was just as thorough about rinsing it, then about working a smoothing serum through his strands. 

By the time Eddie was wrapping Steve’s hair loosely in a towel and sitting him up, Steve was feeling lighter than he’d felt in months. He figured he should have felt raw and vulnerable, and there was a little bit of that, but Eddie’s presence was calming. Maybe it was the way he chattered as he started working on Steve’s hair. He talked about other customers, about his uncle, about how he’d been doing his own hair for years. He even brought up the time he’d burnt his hair with bleach so bad he’d had to give himself a buzzcut, because that was better than the spongy mess he’d left himself with. 

Steve started opening up, too, by the time Eddie was drying and styling his hair. He talked about his own worst haircut, about the time Robin had let him bleach her hair and she had ended up with a streak of green in her hair instead of blue. At least it had been cute, though. 

Eddie spritzed Steve’s hair once… twice… a third and then a fourth time before smiling at their reflections in the mirror. This close, and without tears in his eyes, Steve could see the dimples in his cheeks. 

“What do you think?” Eddie brushed his fingers over the ends of Steve’s hair, then dropped a hand to let the weight of it rest against his shoulder. 

“I think it’s great.” Steve smiled back at him. It looked the same as it did when Kayla had worked on it, but he’d never looked this good before. Maybe it was the cut, or maybe it was just the way Eddie had put something bright back into his eyes. 

Steve pulled his card out to pay but Eddie refused. 

“I think we both needed today,” he’d said before smiling and sliding his card across the counter. “I hope you come back and see me sometime, Stevie. I’m happy to take care of you anytime.” 

Normally Steve might take that as flirting– and maybe it was, the way Eddie’s dimples popped even more and his eyes really sparkled under the light. It wasn’t just flirting, though, and that made warmth blossom in Steve’s chest. 

“Yeah, man. Definitely.” Steve tucked the card away and turned for the door. “Actually…” He looked back at Eddie, who had picked up the broom. “Do you maybe want to get a drink after work?” 

Eddie’s grin was bright. “Hell yeah. Why do you think I didn’t charge you?” he teased. “I get off in an hour.”

Steve laughed with him. “Cool. I’ll see you in an hour, then.” 

---

As it turned out, Steve didn’t need to come back in an hour because he hadn’t left yet. He was still there, helping Eddie clean things up. They talked about the kids Steve babysat, and Eddie pointed out that maybe it was okay for him to just say they were hanging out, because fifteen and sixteen year olds didn’t tend to need babysitters anymore. 

They picked up food in Eddie’s van, and they drove to the quarry to eat sitting in the back of it, with the doors open and two milkshakes between them. 

When they shared their first kiss that night it tasted like salt and fake strawberries. They parted ways with plans to see each other again the next day.  

Maybe it was okay that Steve didn’t have a standing appointment with his usual stylist anymore. 

[tinytalkingtina]

Soaring Symphony (Steddie Dragon and Witch AU) Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is now live!

Outcast witch Eddie lives alone in the woods, until one day he encounters an injured dragon in need of aid. Aka, a Witch!Eddie and Dragon!Steve fantasy AU.

Tags: Fantasy and Magic AU, Witch Eddie Munson, Dragon Steve Harrington, Disabled Eddie Munson, Blood and Injury (nothing more graphic than canon injuries), Nudity

“I think we’ve established I’m not going to bite you or anything, just get on with whatever you need to do already,” Big Boy said testily, mistaking Eddie’s hesitation for fear. “Okay okay, just don’t complain too much when this hurts!” Eddie gingerly placed his palm near the worst of the gashes, letting out a shaky breath. Big Boy was so warm. Even in this form, his body exuded heat like a pleasant fire in winter. Much like his scales, his skin held a bronzed hue speckled with dark brown moles. Under the surface, wisps of green magic still curled like faintly glowing veins, but Eddie noted they were far fewer in number now, and moving sluggishly.

Read the rest from the beginning on Ao3!

[littleststarfighter]

Fancied drawing a cute soft pic where they are all tired out. Did they mean to crash out like that? What will Steve think of his leg hugging tendencies? Or will Eddie blush and mumble to find Steve sleeping practically between his legs?

Almost didn't share this as I wasn't very happy with the faces. But in the end I thought it's not so bad.

[resande]

Reunion at Skull Rock 📍

Commission for Anne Forbes on twitter.

[mischieviem]

Redraw some steddie stuff from my Instagram

[chalkysgarbagefire]

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Just got this image in my mind that Eddie introduced Steve to Wayne as the guy who carried him out of hell. Wayne immediately saw him as the guy who could keep his boy safe, so he started inviting Steve over for dinner all the time. He didn't out Eddie, but he kind of started dropping hints about Eddie's availability. He brags about talented his nephew is to Steve, and when Steve reveals he doesn't know how to play the guitar, Wayne pushes Eddie to teach him. It goes on for a long time after that until one night, Eddie walks Steve out the door.

"Uh, is your uncle trying to set me up with you?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Eddie said with a snort.

"Why doesn't he already know that we're dating?" Steve asked.

"I want to see how long I can keep this up for. I want to see if he breaks," Eddie snickers.

"BOY! I heard all that! You're not as quiet as you think you are!" Wayne hollered.

"Well, fuck."

[stevebabey]

Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.

It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.

But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.

Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.

And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.

There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.

He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.

Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.

“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.

“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”

Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.

“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”

A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.

“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”

Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.

“Now is best.”

Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”

Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.

The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.

Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.

“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”

He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.

“What’s going on?”

Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.

“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”

To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”

Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.

Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.

“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.

Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.

“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”

There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.

“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”

The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.

Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”

Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”

Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.

“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.

“…Kissing.”

Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?

He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.

“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”

Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.

“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”

Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.

“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”

Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.

“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”

A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.

He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.

The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.

“Eddie—” He starts.

“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”

Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.

There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”

Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.

“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.

He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”

Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.

He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.

“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”

Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”

Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.

“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.

Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.

Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.

He can’t find one single ounce of regret.

next part.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

WIP Weekend

Weekly WIP update

Fixed what was bothering me about by big bang outline, ironed out a writing schedule with deadlines and finally feel like chapter 3 is coming together. ✨️ Also, aaaaaah, claims are tomorrow! I can't WAIT to meet my artist and scream about my project to all of you!

Chapter 3 of The King's Gift only needs edits, then it's done. Google must be very confused about my search history. 🤣

16/29 celebration prompts filled and planning on posting another one over the weekend

Send me an emoji and I'll write and share three sentences from that project. (Sentences from the Steddie Big Bang fic will be blurred.)

🏰 The King’s Gift

❓️ Steddie Big Bang fic 2024

🥳 1k follower ficlets

Snippet from 🥳

The hydrangea bushes are long past their bloom, decaying flower petals rustling under his feet. He doesn't lament their death, not when he knows that the seeds of something else are slowly taking root.

The underwater lights of the pool bask the garden in an eerie glow, but he makes his way to the pool house unbothered. He has hardly ducked inside when a key turns in the lock behind him.

Eddie’s body moves on instinct and muscle memory. When the crimson veil lifts from his eyes, he has a warm body pressed against the wall, the edge of his knife licking at a shivering throat. A throat covered in the fading marks of his own teeth.

[harringtonandbuckley]

Steve: I love murder mysteries

Eddie, trying to impress Steve: I've been a suspect in four murder cases

[3minsover]

What about bartender!Eddie who hosts a quiz night and develops an infatuation with one of the members of a team named ‘Scoops Troop’. He overhears the guy saying he wishes there’d be questions on something he actually knew like basketball.

The next month, there’s an entire round on the NBA.

See, the thing is, the prize for first place is a $50 gift card for the bar, so naturally Eddie wants this guy’s team to win so that they’ll come back sooner than a month’s time. And better yet, the team captain has to give their contact details, which is how Eddie officially meets ‘Steve Harrington’.

[juiceicicles]

Eddie and Steve have been friends for a while now, and they’re getting pretty close. With the revelation that Steve isn’t actually a major douchebag comes the revelation that Steve is actually pretty great

Except for one thing

Anytime Eddie says something incredibly nerdy, Steve closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. Eddie cannot figure out why he does this, especially since Robin or Dustin might say the same things and get no reaction.

It bums him out a little, kind of makes him think that Harrington’s not quite let go of the whole King Steve thing.

Until one night where they’re hanging out and Eddie says something incredibly nerdy. Steve takes a deep breath, puts his face in his hands, mutters “God you’re such a dork” and hauls Eddie into a searing kiss

[resande]

My love letter to art.