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self-indulgent little steddie painting

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is anyone else constantly afraid they’ll be “caught” doing stuff they’re obviously allowed or even supposed to do

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girl get down!!!

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“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you

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The Harringtons.

January 17th 1982, Hawkins, Indiana.

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Goodbye Mr. Lynch I’ll see you in my dreams

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Endless Gifs of Steve Harrington (67/?) Stranger Things • 4.08 Papa

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i wanna see old musician wayne. someone eddie always thought was cool (when he still had all his hair) growing up. someone who ended up with this sad little kid who needed an outlet and teaching him the basics. the kid falling in love with music.

watching him be something he never could’ve done, he wasn’t good enough, but his boy is good enough, his boy is going places. be it music or otherwise, his boy has a passion he knows it special.

then spring break happens. and his boy’s spark is dimmed, flickering, hanging on by some miracle.

wayne notices. he sees it not just eddie’s aching body, bandaged gashes and sore stitches. he sees it’s not just injuries. his boy doesn’t want to play, not just because he can’t.

he gets a flinch in reply to a question about a guitar. he gets brushed off when he asks if he’s itching to play. he gets sudden distant eyes, and a static reaction when he sets up his record player.

his boy doesn’t heal as fast he should. his boy avoids going out. his boy struggles to get his feet under him, let alone to stand back up.

watching his boy become a husk in front of his eyes. monotone and vacant, he seems checked out without the narcotics.

once brazen and defiant, he’s watching it get snuffed out. and by god if he’s going to stand idle any more. he’s not letting his boy give up on himself like he did.

he avoids the more typical eddie style, and sits down with his acoustic. wayne snagged it when that harrington boy dragged him out of the house the other day, eddie didn’t even notice it’s absence.

it’s been years, far too long, having let eddie take the reins of tight strings over frets all those years ago. he plays something mellow, something by ear, something by heart, something eddie will know.

he’s only playing for a maybe a minute before a curious head peaks out from around the corner, and then a whole body leaning against the wall.

“can’t believe you still know how to play.”

“sound that bad, huh?” eddie snorts, shaking his head slightly, uncrossing his arms and making his way to join on the couch across from wayne.

he starts again from the beginning, playing the old tune from his favorite album, the last one his sister listened to—the last one eddie’s mom listened to.

making room for eddie to join him, he doesn’t hum along, just plays the melody.

the first few seconds go by quiet, just the two of them listening to the gentle strums. eddie starts to mutter the words, tapping his knee to the beat, like he’s unable to kept himself away from the lull of music.

steady rhythm, eddie closes his eyes, bashfulness at softly singing or falling right into wayne’s obvious trap it doesn’t really matter. his boy starts to bounce his foot, body thrumming with the noise.

“but listen carefully to the sound,

of your loneliness,”

he looks at home, a nice picture to the empty shell he seems to be. he’s still there, just hiding himself, feeling far too exposed, to open. it’s not the first time wayne’s had to crack the shell he locks himself away in.

a bit rusty and corse, wayne joins him.

and for what it’s worth—the small smile that breaks across his face—it’s worth millions to him.

“thunder only happens when it's rainin'”

he’ll keep playing if his boy can’t. he’ll keep playing for his boy. till his fingers bleed, till he’s at deaths door, it doesn’t matter.

and whether eddie adds more kindle to his flame or not, wayne isn’t letting it get smothered any time soon.

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Look At You

Written for @steddiebingo Countdown to Midnight Prompt: Mirror Sex

Rating: E | WC: 840

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

Read under the cut or on ao3!

Eddie winds his fingers in Steve’s hair and pulls back, forcing Steve to look at himself in the mirror above the sink. He leans in close to Steve’s ear as he pushes back in deep, a cocky smirk pulling at his mouth when Steve’s eyes squeeze shut and he moans. He shakes Steve’s head a little and lets out a mean chuckle. “Keep your eyes open, sweetheart. I want you to see how good you look when I’m inside you.” 

Steve whimpers and Eddie watches his eyes flutter open and then lock on Eddie’s in the mirror. Eddie flashes him another grin and tugs lightly on his hair. “Good boy.” 

He picks up the pace, slamming his hips forward with a groan. Steve cries out, his hands gripping the sink tighter as he tries to keep himself upright, obviously trying to stay in the position Eddie put him in. Eddie rubs his hand along Steve’s side gently and kisses his shoulder. “Gotta be quiet, baby. Someone will hear you.” He snaps his hips, knowing it’ll pull another moan from him, and chuckles when Steve proves him right. “You don’t even care if they hear you, do you?”

Steve lets out a little sigh and Eddie smiles. “Having trouble finding your words there, Stevie?”

Eddie watches as Steve tries to give a little nod, his head still being pulled back by Eddie’s grip on his hair. He can hear people out in the hall. They’re hogging one of only two bathrooms at this stupid fucking party. But he honestly couldn’t care less. He loves when Steve gets like this.  Which, to be fair, is almost any time he gets even just a little tipsy or high. 

First, he gets very happy, and very clingy. Following Eddie wherever he goes, hanging all over him, pouting if Eddie leaves his side for even a second. And then he gets handsy. Slipping his fingers under the hem of Eddie’s shirt, tugging on his belt loops to pull him closer, sneaking kisses any chance he gets. And then, without fail, he starts getting impatient. He doesn’t want to wait until they’re home. He doesn’t want to wait at all. He wants Eddie. Now. And well, who is Eddie to deny his boy anything he wants, really? 

So, here he is, in some douchebag’s bathroom, railing his gorgeous boy. 

They don’t even need to be here anymore. Eddie sold all his stash. They could have gone home. But Steve had given him that look, hunger in his eyes as he walked past Eddie in the hall, fingers grazing over his shoulder. Eddie had simply sighed, and followed him in here. 

There’s a knock on the door and Eddie lets out an annoyed huff, not slowing his motions at all. “OCCUPIED!”

A little laugh slips from Steve’s lips and pulls Eddie’s attention back to him. He tugs sharply on his hair making him hiss. “Is something funny, baby?” 

Steve moans loudly as Eddie plows into him again, arching his back more and watching himself through half lidded eyes in the mirror. Eddie leans in close, biting the edge of Steve’s ear and groaning when he clenches around him. “Are you going to cum on this grody sink for me baby?” 

Steve lets out a choked off moan and reaches a hand back to grab onto Eddie’s arm. 

Eddie grins at him in the mirror. “Everyone at this party is going to take one look at you and know exactly what was going on in here.” 

Steve shudders against him and Eddie knows he’s close. He slows down a little, making sure to go deep, tipping his hips the way he knows drives Steve wild and always pushes him over the–

Steve moans, his fingers digging into Eddie’s flesh as he falls over the edge, cum splattering into the sink. Eddie lets go of Steve’s hair and wraps an arm around him to keep him up right as he slumps back against Eddie and tries to catch his breath. Eddie rolls his hips a few more times, grunting and pressing his forehead into Steve’s shoulder as he finds his own release. 

They stay still, coming down from the adrenaline of fucking at a party as reality seeps back in. Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s temple smiling when Steve hums and leans into it. “You wanna get cleaned up before we head back out there?” 

Steve whines, pressing his back against Eddie. Eddie shakes his head and leans over him, grabbing a hand towel hanging next to the sink. He wipes himself off quickly before wetting the towel with warm water and using it to clean Steve off too. He tosses the towel on the ground and bends down to pull Steve’s pants back up, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s ass on his way back up and grinning when it gets a laugh from Steve. 

Eddie locks eyes with him in the mirror again, running a hand through Steve’s ruined hair. “Ready to go home now, sweetheart?”

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pretty boy with the pretty hazel eyes <3

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The Corroded Coffin boys know that Steve and Eddie are dating way before Eddie tells them because he starts using sports terminology during band practice.

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I need to see Steve Harrington be a father. Need it. Need it so bad. Walk with me here.

He holds his newborn child. His arms are flexing really hard because he's both holding on tight, but also so fucking scared. One of his hands coming up to gently trace the soft jaw of his baby, brushing the pad of his thumb over one of the bulbous, flushed cheeks. Eyes half-open as he stares down at this baby, just an instantaneous love outpouring through him; he's teary and trying so hard not to cry because he wants to see his baby, wants to commit every last detail to memory, wants to just stay in this forever—even when the baby squirms and cries and screams, he just wants to remember the sounds, the expressions, wants to remember what it felt like to hand off the baby for feeding time, wants to remember the weight in his arms—such a different weight to all the death he's held in them, replaced now by brand new life that he nurtured with all his efforts; no matter how afraid he was of becoming a parent like his own.

The learning stages? Oh, give me a fucking break! He's sitting on the floor of his living room, criss-cross, bouncing his kiddo on his knee. He's singing some little song that doesn't have lyrics, doesn't even exist, but it's just theirs. Smiling all proud at the fact that his baby is babbling now. And then his kid says 'da-da' and he's just...melted. He wants to screech so bad, but doesn't want his kid to be scared. His hands tense lightly, squeezing, but he's just so careful about it. Giddy and smiley and near crying again. Showing off the new word to anybody in his vicinity, the number one cheerleader from the get-go. Baby starts walking and he makes sure that it happens as much as possible, guiding and holding the baby's hands and walking alongside his baby no matter how slow he has to go—he's already thinking about all the walks they're going to take, down to the lake to feed the ducks, to the park to play, trick-or-treating...

And he's so attentive. So, so attentive. Drops everything he's doing whenever his kid needs him. Wants him, too. Will read bedtime stories until they both end up passed out in the nursery's rocking chair, in the toddler bed, in the twin bed. He lets his kid draw on him. Hangs up all the artwork on the fridge, rearranging them so they all fit. He's cutting up the food so that it's something his kid will eat—dinosaur sandwiches? sure, why not! Doesn't make his kid try something they don't like, something his parents never did for him. Listens to music he doesn't particularly enjoy, but his kid enjoys. Fully involved playtime; Steve turns into a jungle gym, he's doing all the sounds for the trucks/cars, lightsaber fights, improvised story when it comes to playing with figurines.

Opens up the middle of his bed for his kid when they have nightmares. Soothing them anyway he can. Scalp massages, fully tactile hugs, just holding them in his arms, anything he can possibly do. If they catch each other in the middle of the night, Steve's offering a cookie or some sort of hot drink or a full on grilled cheese sandwich.

High school? Steve is weeping. But he's still as attentive. Listens to every single problem his kid has. Gives advice where it's needed. They gossip, of course they fucking do. He pulls his kid out of school every once in a while just to hang out, give them a mental break. They argue from time to time, but he can recognize when he needs to apologize and does. Doesn't like to hold things above his kid's head—like his parents did. Doesn't remind them of things they did wrong. Doesn't call his kid names. He's always present when he needs to be. Is consistently proud of his kid, even when they completely fuck something up.

Anyway. Just Steve being a dad!!! I love Dad Steve Harrington! Give that man a baby, god damnit!!!!!

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"Is this always how they act?" Jonathan asks. He has to lean close and yell a little for Robin to hear him over the noise of the house party.

"Yup," she says.

She, Jonathan, and Argyle continue to stare at Eddie, sitting in an easy chair, Steve perched happily on his lap. Eddie has a whole bowl of bbq Lay's, and Steve will lean back for a chip, which Eddie feeds him with a smile.

"And they're definitely not dating?" Argyle asks when Steve leans back to whisper in Eddie's ear, mouth pressed close. It's deeply gratifying that they just got in from California and already they see it.

"Steve says no."

"You think he's lying?" Jonathan asks.

"I think he doesn't realize he likes Eddie yet."

Eddie tugs at Steve's hair, and Steve turns back, gives him a smile that's so intimate Robin can't stare directly at it. Instead, she turns to her friends, but Argyle is still watching Eddie and Steve. He's drumming his fingers against his chin, expression what Robin could only call mischievous.

"What are you planning?" Jonathan asks.

"Just helping some bros find true love."

Jonathan looks mildly concerned but before he can say anything, Nancy makes her appearance. And they're something, becoming something, and she cares about Eddie and Steve getting their shit together, but Nancy is smiling and she's so, so pretty. It's easy to get lost in the blue of her eyes and the sweep of her hair and forget about everything else.

---

A few hours later and they're all sitting around a coffee table in the basement, just the six of them. It's sort of funny, she thinks, how it always ends up being the six of them.

They're crossfaded already, but that hasn't stopped Eddie and Argyle from lighting another joint. Her thoughts have gone light and floaty, all that's holding her to earth the press Steve's leg and Nancy's hand against hers.

Argyle is sort of monologuing and she doesn't think any of them are paying much mind, but then he stops mid-sentence, grips Jonathan's shoulder tight enough that his knuckles go white. "Dudes. What if we played Truth or Dare?"

Nancy snorts. "Not on your life."

"I don't think I can move?" She says. She leans into Steve, sighing with contentment.

"I, for one, would love to see Buckley complete a dare," Eddie says.

She sticks her tongue out at him. "I've done plenty. Band kid, remember?"

"Ugh, curse the horny trumpeters." Eddie slumps on the coffee table in defeat.

"I'll have you know, they were very wholesome games."

Steve squints at her. "Wasn't there an orgy in someone's pool?"

She sniffs, looks away instead of answering, which makes everyone laugh.

"Speaking of sex," Argyle says. "No one catch your eye tonight, Harrington?"

"Wasn't really looking."

"That's new," Jonathan says.

Steve laughs. "I'm tired of hooking up."

He's told her that too, countless times. She thinks the real reason he hasn't dated in months is sitting right next to him, drumming his fingers on the coffee table.

"Maybe you've just lost your touch," Argyle says.

"I have not!" Steve clutches a hand over his heart. "If I wanted to, I could pull any girl upstairs."

"C'mon, my dude, no way you're that good."

"I was!" He looks to Robin, Nancy, Jonathan. "I was, back me up!"

"I don't know, Scoops wasn't your best work," she says.

"No, no, we said Scoops doesn't count! It was the hat. The outfit! I did fine after!"

"I happened to think the sailor costume was very cute," Eddie says.

"Thank you," Steve preens. He shifts away from her to lean into Eddie, who grins.

"I don't think we can trust Eddie's judgement here," Nancy says.

Steve points at her. "Yes, and I remember you being totally uninterested."

She squeaks in indignation, Robin smothering her own giggles behind her hand. "It was--it was hormones!"

"Yeah, very uninterested in me." Jonathan chimes in. There's a little second where no one reacts--the fact that Nancy was technically still with Steve when that happened ringing unspoken between them--before Nancy and Steve start to giggle.

"I've hooked up with everyone I've ever tried to," Argyle chimes in, nonchalant.

"No way," the whole group says.

"I've got the touch."

"C'mon, that literally can't be true just by like...stats," Steve says.

"Don't know what to tell you, my dude." Argyle's smile is smug. "I'm really good."

"You're just jealous," she tells him. She nudges his shoulder so he knows she's joking.

"No! Jealousy has nothing to do with it."

They erupt at that, calling out the obvious lie.

"I'm not upset!" Steve shouts over them. "I'm just saying, it didn't happen. Sorry, Argyle. You have bizzaro charm, but there's no way it has a 100% success rate."

"Sounds like jealousy to me, Stevie." Eddie cocks his head with a smirk.

"Harrington, you're so cute when you're competitive," Argyle says. "Anyway, it worked on--"

"Don't say Jonathan," Nancy, Steve, and Robin all say.

"Hey! Why not me?'

"Well, it's just--" Nancy waves her hand in the air. "You're. I mean. It's not hard."

Jonathan groans, hides his face in his hands as they laugh.

"I'll prove it to you," Argyle says to Steve. "100% success rate."

"What?"

"I'm going to seduce you."

"Oh, shit," she says.

She knows what's going to happen even before Steve puts his hands on his hips, awkwardly cause they're sitting, cocks an eyebrow, and says, "Okay."

Eddie grumbles something she can't make out, but Steve shakes his head, laughs. "Nah, it's just for fun, right?"

"Until it works." Argyle tosses his hair.

Steve rolls his eyes. "Gimme your best shot."

They rearrange around the table, Eddie and Argyle swapping places.

Everyone is quiet for a second, Steve reaches for his drink. "You got great hands, Harrington," Argyle says.

"I--oh, what?" Steve splutters. He goes a little pink, and Robin thinks it's the first time she's seen him this flustered by a compliment.

"Yeah." Argyle takes his hand, traces along his palm and knuckles. "Big. Strong. Like you could really take care of someone."

Eddie kicks the table, sending it rocking, scattering empty cups and chip bags. Steve is crimson, totally oblivious to Eddie's flailing.

"Thanks," he mumbles. He doesn't pull his hand away. Robin, everyone, is riveted.

"No one's ever told you that?"

"No. No one."

"That's too bad. It's probably all about your hair and your eyes and your body."

Steve smiles and it's one she recognizes, flirty and a little wicked. "You noticed my body?"

Argyle laughs. "Oh, c'mon, you know everyone notices that."

"Would you believe it if I told you I don't get enough compliments?"

"Not on your life."

Steve leans into him, giggles. "Well, worth a shot, right?"

"Always. You wanna know the first thing I noticed about you?"

"Ass, right?"

"It was how much you love your friends but you hide it behind a facade of disapproval. Made me think maybe you weren't used to the love you want to give being reciprocated."

They're all locked in on Argyle and Steve, but she notices Eddie flinch, move like he's about to stand, Nancy reaching out to stop him. She thinks, then, for the first time, that maybe this is mean to him. He doesn't know it's not real.

"Oh," Steve says. His voice breaks, a little, and her heart breaks for him. "I--oh."

"Your ass was the second thing I noticed," Argyle quips and the tension around the table breaks, Steve giggling.

With smooth confidence she never would have expected him to possess, Argyle cards his fingers through Steve's hair. "Just had to touch it for myself." His voice is soft.

"That all you want to touch?"

Argyle grins. "Not even a little bit."

She watches, stunned, as Steve leans in, face almost touching Argyle's. Eddie makes a noise, a pained cough, and Steve leaps to his feet.

"I can't kiss you!" He half-yells, stumbling.

"And why not?" Argyle asks. He's got a wild smile on his face.

"I'm in love with Eddie!" Steve's eyes are wide, panicked.

"I'm sorry," Steve says to him. "Eddie, I--"

But before he can get the words out, Eddie's climbing over the coffee table, sending drinks and snacks flying, the calls for him to get down ignored as he trips into Steve's arms.

"You love me?" Eddie asks.

"I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I--got in my head about it and I--I hoped it didn't seem like I was leading you on because my words kept getting stuck, and--"

"Sweetheart." Eddie stops him. "I--" He breaks off, notices that the rest of them are raptly listening to the confession. "Do you want to go somewhere we can talk?"

They disappear upstairs, and she turns to Argyle in awe. "I can't believe that actually worked."

"What can I say, I'm a miracle worker. Are there more Doritos?"

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Early in the morning, they're piled in Nancy's station wagon, Jonathan driving them home. She and Nancy are in the middle seat, Steve and Eddie in the back. Steve's curled against him, face pressed to his neck, hidden by a cloud of hair. She wants to ask what happened, how their conversation went, if they're official and how long Steve's known he's in love, but Nancy moves closer, head dropping to Robin's shoulder. Their fingers entwine and Robin closes her eyes, smiles.

"Tomorrow?" Nancy asks.

She nods. "Tomorrow."

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unfortunately The Character has now lived rent free in my head for so long they can claim squatters' rights

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↳Read Show Me What You Got by @runninriot here!

Oh my god, I can't believe how lucky I am to have made such a wonderful friend as Riot, who wrote this absolutely fantastic oneshot based on my art (holy shit?)💕✨ I'm truly awestruck. Please read it, you won't regret it!