#Soft Steddie September

[steveseddie]

for protection

steddie | rating: t | wc: 5,2k | cw: none | tags: steve pov, scary movies, accidental hand holding, turned into non-accidental hand holding, soft boys, getting together, fruity four friendship

for week four of @softsteddieseptember using the prompt “protection”

click here to read on ao3

Steve never liked horror movies. 

He didn’t like them before the Upside Down and he definitely doesn’t like them now when he spends most of his time worrying and waiting for the next supernatural shoe to drop. There’s no reason why he would want to spend two hours peeking through his fingers at a screen and anticipating the next jumpscare on top of that.

Occasionally, he will let Robin or one of the kids— or lately, Eddie too— convince him to watch one. They might have gone through the same horrors as Steve, but somehow they’re not bothered by these movies at all. At least when Robin is around she’ll let Steve hold her hand, which has gotten him through worse things than movies about aliens or monsters or psychopathic killers. 

That is the only reason Steve agreed to go to the movies tonight.

“Who are you kidding, dingus?” Robin snorts when Steve tells her as much. She’s sitting in the passenger seat of the Beemer as Steve drives them both to The Hawk to meet Eddie and Nancy. “You agreed to come because you can’t say no to Eddie and his big Bambi eyes!” 

Steve sputters indignantly. “What? Yes, I can!”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Steve, I told you I wanted to watch this movie weeks ago and you kept brushing me off. You only said yes when Eddie pouted and complained that no one wanted to watch it with him!” 

Steve waves her off. “I would’ve said yes to you eventually.” 

“But you didn’t,” Robin says, poking Steve’s side and making him yelp. “You said yes to your boy—”

“He’s not my boy,” Steve huffs, trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck at the words. 

Robin ignores him and keeps teasing him. “You said yes to him because you love him—” she says, dragging the word love and making obnoxious kissing noises. 

“Christ, what are you? Five?” Steve protests, pinching the bridge of his nose while he waits for the red light to turn green. Robin keeps making those kissing noises, making Steve groan. “Ugh, shut up. Or I’ll shove you out of the car and you’ll have to walk the rest of the way.” 

Robin huffs. “If you do that you’ll have to explain to Nancy that you abandoned me in the middle of nowhere,” she says, sticking her tongue out at him. If she keeps up acting like a child they’re not going to let her in to see this movie. 

“We’re like, four blocks away,” Steve says, pointing ahead where the sign for The Hawk comes into view. “That’s hardly the middle of nowhere.” 

But they both know he won’t do it anyway— not even a horror movie sounds scarier than having to tell Nancy he left Robin to walk the streets of Hawkins alone at night. 

So he finds them a parking spot instead, a few blocks away from The Hawk so by the time they walk up to the entrance it’s exactly 7 pm. They agreed to meet up at that time, meaning Nancy is already there—and probably has been for a while—and Eddie is nowhere to be seen. 

As soon as she sees Nancy, Robin leaves Steve’s side and runs up to her, wrapping her arms around Nancy’s shoulders to hug her. Nancy stumbles back a few steps, taken by surprise but then she smiles and wraps her arms around Robin’s waist, returning the hug. 

As Steve approaches, he hears Robin rambling with her arms still around her. “Hey, Nancy! I hope you haven’t been waiting for long, I told Steve we were gonna be late but he still took forever to fix his hair. And I was like ‘dingus we’re going to be in a dark room for the better part of two hours, no need to fuss about it so much!’ but you know Steve. Duh, you dated him, of course you do. I think he just wanted to look good for—” she pauses, pulling back to look around them and make sure they’re alone, “—for Eddie, which is silly, y’know? Have you seen Eddie’s hair? He does not care about hair care routines and stuff!”

“I should’ve made you walk,” Steve mutters, feeling his blush tinting his cheeks pink again. Nancy stifles a chuckle behind her hand and Steve waves at her. “Hey, Nance.”

“Hi, Steve. Your hair looks good,” she says with a tiny smirk that makes Robin cackle loudly and makes Steve roll his eyes. She turns back to Robin, “And I haven’t been waiting long, I just got here.” 

Robin throws some finger guns at her. “Cool,” she says, “Should we get the tickets?” 

“We still have to wait for Eddie,” Steve interjects, looking around for any sign of Eddie’s van or Eddie himself. 

“You can wait for your boy,” Robin says with a smirk, “and Nance and I will get the tickets!” 

Steve lets out a long-suffering groan. “For the last time, Robin, he’s not my boy.”

Once again, she ignores him and holds her palm up at him. “Money, please.”

Steve sighs, pulling his wallet from his jeans and handing her a few bills, enough for four tickets. 

“Thanks!” She says, whirling around and hooking her arm with Nancy’s, dragging her towards the ticket booth and leaving Steve to wait for Eddie alone.  

He entertains himself by kicking a plastic bottle back and forth. He keeps his eyes on the ground as he does so he doesn’t notice Eddie approaching— not until he jumps on Steve’s back, wrapping an arm around his neck in a chokehold.

“Got ya, Harrington!” Eddie yells in Steve’s ear as Steve stumbles with the added weight but manages to find his balance before they both end up on the ground.

“Christ,” Steve mutters, trying to wiggle out of Eddie’s hold while he laughs like a maniac. “Eddie, get off, man!” 

“As His Majesty commands,” Eddie giggles, jumping off Steve’s back and sweeping down in a dramatic bow when Steve turns around to face him. 

Steve’s hands land on his hips. “You couldn’t just say hello like a normal person?” 

“That, my dear Stevie, would require that I was normal, and as the Hawkins population so graciously accused me of, I am—” he pauses for dramatic effect, “—a freak.”

Steve lets out a snort. “You’re late, that’s what you are,” he says and Eddie gives a dismissive wave. “The girls went inside to get the tickets.”

Eddie gasps, his eyes sparkling under the streetlights. “And you waited for me, sweetheart?” He asks, placing both of his hands over his heart. Steve’s cheeks pink up at the pet name. “You shouldn’t have!” 

“Noted,” Steve smirks. He bumps his shoulder against Eddie’s, jerking his head towards the entrance. “C’mon, they’re waiting.”

Eddie falls into step beside Steve as he starts walking to where Robin and Nancy are whispering and giggling about something.

Robin notices them first. “Eddie!” 

“Lady Buckley,” Eddie greets her with a little royal twist of the hand, then repeats the motion in Nancy’s direction. “Lady Wheeler.” 

“Hey, Eddie,” Nancy says, playing along with a curt nod. “Glad you could make it.” 

“Late as usual,” Robin says, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. 

“Time is nothing but a social construct, Birdie.”

“Tell that to the movie starting in fifteen minutes,” Steve says, checking his watch. “We should head in. C’mon, Eds, I’ll buy you popcorn.” 

Eddie gives him a lopsided grin. “You sure know your way into a man’s heart, Harrington.” 

“Do I get popcorn too?” Robin asks with a knowing smile. 

Steve flicks her on the forehead. “Dude, I already paid for your ticket.”

“You also paid for Eddie’s!” She argues, crossing her arms over her chest petulantly. “Why does he get popcorn and I don’t?”

Steve glances at Eddie and finds him staring back at him with wide eyes, a strand of hair tugged in front of his face. Steve doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say— other than tell Robin to shut up. 

But before he can, Nancy, bless her soul, jumps in. “Hey, Robin,” she says, putting her hands on Robin’s shoulders so she can steer her away. “I’ll get you popcorn, okay?”

Robin lets Nancy guide her away, narrowing her eyes at Steve over her shoulder one last time.

Steve lets out a puff of air. 

He feels Eddie bump his shoulder. “Hey, I- I can get my popcorn, man. And I can pay for my ticket too,” he says a little awkwardly. “I don’t wanna get you in trouble with Buckley.”

“No way, Eds,” Steve is quick to say, bumping his shoulder right back. “It’s on me.”

Eddie offers him a shy little smile. “Well, I’ll get the next one then.”

Steve nods, stomach fluttering at the thought of doing this again with Eddie— maybe just the two of them next time. “Sure, as long as you don’t drag me here for another crappy horror movie.” 

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “This isn’t a crappy horror movie! It’s supposed to be the best one of the year, I guarantee you’ll be scared.” 

Yeah, that’s precisely what Steve is worried about. He tries not to grimace at that. 

As long as you sit next to Robin, you’ll be fine, he thinks to himself. 

To Eddie, he says, “Whatever you say, Eds.”

They join the girls at the concession stand where Steve and Nancy get large popcorn bowls to share with Eddie and Robin, sodas for each of them, and Steve also asks for some gummy worms because he knows Eddie will put too much butter on their popcorn, get sick of it halfway through and will want to eat something sweet. 

As soon as the kid slides the bag of gummy worms over the counter, Steve puts it in his pocket. He doesn’t want Robin to see them and call him out on that too.  

He hands the popcorn to Eddie who, as expected, soaks it with butter, earning horrified looks from everyone around them, including Steve. Though Steve’s expression might also be overly affectionate. 

“Hey, don’t forget the napkins for your gross buttery fingers,” Steve tells him when Eddie deems their popcorn soggy enough and waits for him to grab a handful of napkins before they follow Nancy and Robin. 

“Why do you care if I have buttery fingers, hm?” Eddie asks, getting all up in Steve’s space. A few popcorn kernels fall on the carpet from Eddie moving so much. “Planning to hold my hand in there or something?” 

And Steve isn’t— he’s planning to hold Robin’s, but the thought of holding Eddie’s hand instead makes his heart stutter in his chest, pink tinting his cheeks.

“You wish, Munson,” he says, picking up the pace to catch up with the girls and walk into the dark movie theater, hoping it will help hide his blush from Eddie. 

“Oh, but I do, Stevie, every night,” Eddie says, following him with a shit-eating grin. 

It’s relatively empty inside and the four of them head straight to the back rows where Steve ends up sitting between Eddie and Robin, with Nancy on her other side. 

While they wait for the movie to start, Eddie leans over to whisper in Steve’s ear what critics are saying about the movie, what he’s most excited to see, what the scariest parts are supposed to be. Someone else might find it annoying— to have Eddie loudly chewing popcorn right next to their ear and talking about the movie they’re about to see— but Steve loves hearing Eddie talk, and maybe knowing what’s going to happen in the movie will help ease his nerves a bit.

Eddie doesn’t stop talking until the opening credits start to appear, settling back on his seat with a happy little squeal. 

Cute, Steve thinks as an idea occurs to him. Maybe if he focuses on Eddie instead of the screen it won’t be so bad. 

And so for the first thirty minutes of the movie, Steve keeps his attention on Eddie with the occasional glance at the screen to not be too obvious— even if Eddie is unlikely to notice since his eyes won’t leave the screen, barely blinking as he shoves handfuls of popcorn into his mouth. Halfway through, just like Steve predicted, Eddie shoves the popcorn towards him, buttery lips scrunched up. He downs his soda as he tries to wash away the taste of salt and butter before using the napkins to wipe his fingers. 

He glances away from the screen for the first time since the movie started when Steve nudges him with his elbow and holds out the gummy worms. 

Eddie’s eyes widen and then he gives Steve a slightly awed look. “Thanks, Stevie,” he whispers, grabbing the bag. 

Steve just winks at him, and when Eddie faces forward again, Steve thinks he can see a pink flush high on his cheeks thanks to the glow coming from the screen. 

Pleased, Steve finishes the popcorn and his soda, setting everything on the floor to pick up later and sitting back to stare at Eddie a bit more, paying little to no attention to the screen. 

That’s when bad things start to happen in the movie. 

Shoulders tense and heart hammering in his chest, Steve does his best to not glance at the screen but even then there’s no way to block out the screams or the other disturbing noises. When he looks at Eddie, he actually seems excited about the horrific, gruesome scenes taking place. On Steve’s other side, Robin and Nancy seem mostly unbothered, though Robin’s nose keeps scrunching up at times. They’re all handling it better than Steve is— fingers digging into his legs, eyes screwed shut, breathing in and out as he tries to calm down. 

Steve makes the mistake of opening his eyes and accidentally glancing at the screen just as some awful monster jumps at them, almost giving Steve a heart attack. His hand leaves his lap to grab Robin’s hand, needing physical comfort. 

It takes him a few seconds to realize that, while the hand he just wrapped his fingers around is thin and bony like Robin’s, it’s also bigger and uncharacteristically cold. Steve glances down at it with a frown and realizes that the reason why it’s so cold is the multiple rings adorning the fingers— fingers that don’t belong to Robin. 

Because Steve reached out with the wrong hand and grabbed Eddie’s instead. 

Fuck.

He glances away from their hands and finds Eddie already looking at him. Steve knows he must look like a startled deer, but instead of the teasing expression he expects to see on Eddie’s face, his eyebrows are knitted in concern. 

“You okay, Steve?” Eddie asks softly, leaning into Steve’s space even though the noises coming from the speakers are enough to drown out their voices. 

“Not really, but um, I didn’t mean to do that, sorry, I thought I reached for Robin,” Steve nervously stammers out. He manages to get his scrambled brain cells working and lets go of Eddie’s fingers— but before Steve can fully retrieve his hand, Eddie flips his hand over, trapping Steve’s there.

Steve blinks at him.

“Does it help? Holding someone’s hand?” Eddie asks and Steve nods dumbly. “Okay, then.” 

And so Eddie slides his fingers through the spaces between Steve’s fingers, intertwining their hands.

Steve looks down at them, blinking repeatedly, expecting them to disappear. “Eds, you don’t have to—”

“Shhh, I’m happy to,” Eddie says, squeezing his hand.  Steve’s breath catching in his throat. “Don’t you worry, big boy. I’ll protect you,” he adds with a wink. 

Steve knows Eddie is trying to lighten up the mood but he doesn’t laugh it off because the truth is that he does feel safer like this, more relaxed. He gives Eddie a small smile. “Okay.” 

“I guess it’s a good thing you made me grab those napkins, huh?” Eddie says, and this time, Steve does laugh, though he muffles it behind his other hand so hopefully the girls can’t hear it. He doesn’t need them glancing over and noticing their hands— Steve is already blushing enough as it is. 

After that, Eddie turns his attention back to the screen but Steve keeps his eyes on their hands for a while, taking advantage of the glow coming from the screen to study each of Eddie’s rings, his chipped nail polish, the tattoo on the side of his wrist, the scar from a demobat bite in the back of his hand. 

When he glances back at the screen, the worst of the movie seems to be over and he’s able to push through the remaining and significantly less scary scenes by squeezing Eddie’s hand and feeling Eddie squeeze right back. 

At one point, Robin glances at him, probably to check on him and her eyes end up on their held hands, a loud gasp slipping past her lips. 

Steve whips his head at her and meets her bulging eyes. She mouths her words at him— “Oh my God!”

“I know!” Steve mouths right back.

Because this might’ve started with Eddie being a good friend and comforting Steve, but as the movie droned on, it started to feel less like that— it started to feel like more. The way Eddie started rubbing his thumb over Steve’s hand, the way he blushed when Steve started to play with one of his rings, the way they both kept glancing at the other and smiling almost shyly. Steve’s heart hasn’t stopped jackhammering against his ribcage at the thought of all of this meaning something. 

But they can’t address any of that right now and Robin seems to realize that, so after giving Steve a dorky thumbs up, she turns her attention back to the movie. 

Steve does the same. On the screen, those who survived are being rescued and Steve can breathe a little easier. Before he knows it, the end credits start rolling up and Steve finally fully relaxes. 

He expects Eddie to let go of his hand right away but to Steve’s surprise, he doesn’t. Without letting go, Eddie leans over Steve to ask the girls what they thought about the movie. 

“I probably could’ve lived without seeing that many guts,” Robin says, her nose scrunching up. 

At the same time as Nancy says, “Oh, it was good!” 

Steve stares at her, dumbfounded, but Nancy has always been the bravest out of all of them. 

“Hell yeah, Wheeler!” Eddie whoops, reaching over with the hand not currently holding Steve’s to give her a high five. 

Nancy returns it with an amused chuckle. If she notices Eddie’s other hand intertwined with Steve’s, she doesn’t show it. “What about you, Steve? What did you think?” 

“I think I’m never letting the kids rent this fucking movie,” he says with a scoff.

Eddie throws his head back with a laugh, loud and full-bellied. It’s a good thing that the movie is over because the sound reverberates around the rapidly emptying room.

Next to Steve, Robin snorts. “You know Dustin is just gonna convince Eddie to rent it for him, right?” 

“Lies and slander!” Eddie protests. “I would never corrupt the youth like that!” He says, pulling his hand and Steve’s towards his chest, clutching it as he plays the to offended part. Well, if Nancy didn’t notice they were holding hands before she sure did now. 

“You would,” Robin says with a shake of her head, “You have.”

“I resent that, Buckley.”

“She’s right, Eds. Max told me you let her try beer last week,” Steve says, voice shaking slightly from Eddie keeping their hands on his chest, letting Steve feel his heartbeat. 

It stutters at Steve’s words and his eyes go wide. “That little snitch! Okay, it was one sip and she was blackmailing me!” 

Nancy raises her eyebrow. “With what?”

Eddie’s cheeks go pink and he averts his gaze, his eyes darting to Steve for a second before focusing on the rips in his jeans, tugging at them. “Um, nothing. All I’m saying is those little shits are menaces. They’ll find a way to watch the movie, y’know?”

“Well, god-fucking-speed to them,” Steve grumbles, “I’m never watching that shit again.”

Eddie leans close. “Not even if I agree to hold your hand, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and accompanied by a squeeze of his hand. 

Steve flushes— from Eddie’s voice in his ear, his hand still on his, the thought of holding it like this again. He opens his mouth and closes it, he wants to say no but he’s afraid the word will come out will be an embarrassingly eager yes. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have to say anything because Nancy speaks up. “You guys ready to go?” 

They all nod and set about picking up their trash, which means Eddie finally has to let go of Steve’s hand. He tries not to look too disappointed by that but probably fails. As they start making their way out of the room, Eddie and Nancy fall into step together, engaging in conversation about their opinions on the movie, which in Eddie’s case includes a dramatic reenactment of his favorite parts.  

Steve and Robin are a few steps behind and Steve watches Eddie as he gestures wildly and makes weird noises and even falls to the ground at one point, pretending to die like one of the characters in the movie. Nancy laughs and helps him up and Steve feels a wave of affection for Eddie so strong he nearly doubles over with it. 

“Ugh,” Robin groans next to him. “Tone down the heart-eyes, dingus, it’s gross and I literally just saw someone’s insides explode.” 

“Fuck off, Robs,” Steve says, shoving her lightly, his cheeks dusted pink. She stumbles before crowding against Steve again, a bounce in her step. 

“Nope, you still have to tell me how you two ended up holding hands.”

Steve hangs a hand from his neck, wishing he could say he pulled it off by being smooth or something. God, he used to have game. “Uh, the movie was a lot and I accidentally reached for his hand instead of yours.”

Robin throws her head back with a loud cackle. “Oh Steve,” she says, holding onto Steve’s shoulder as she laughs. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

“Hey!”

At Steve’s protest, Robin shrugs. “What? I called you pretty!”

Eddie comes bouncing over. “Ohhh, are we calling Steve pretty? Can I join?” He asks, throwing his arm over Steve’s shoulders. Robin meets Steve’s eyes and waggles her eyebrows. If Steve wasn’t trapped against Eddie’s side he would pinch her arm. 

“No, she’s just being annoying,” Steve says and Robin sticks her tongue out at him. 

“Doesn’t mean she isn’t right, pretty boy,” Eddie says, dropping his head to Steve’s shoulder and looking up at him, eyelashes fluttering. Steve goes warm all over. He ducks his head, unable to keep a dopey smile from stretching over his lips. 

Robin clears her throat— she and Nancy are trying not to smirk as they look between the two of them. 

Steve squirms. “Um, you ready to go, Robs?” 

“Actually,” Robin says, exchanging a look with Nancy. “Nance is giving me a ride home.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together. “What? Why?” He asks. “Is it because I threatened to push you out of the car and make you walk?” Next to him, Eddie lets out an amused snort. 

Robin waves him off. “No, it’s because um- she left a book! At my house last week! And she needs it back tonight, right Nance?”

Nancy’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Oh, yes, it’s a very important book.”

Steve narrows their eyes at them. He’s not buying any of it. “Right.”

“Yeah! So I’ll see you tomorrow at work,” she tells Steve then to Eddie she says, “And I’ll see you, well, probably tomorrow at work too when you inevitably show up to annoy me and Steve.”

Eddie grins, wiping a fake tear. “Oh Buckley, you know me so well.”

“Yeah, yeah, sometimes I wish I knew you less,” she says but the corners of her mouth are turned upwards. 

Eddie lets go of Steve so he can give Robin a quick hug. Then she throws her arms around Steve’s shoulders. “Call me when you get home and tell me everything,” she whispers in his ear and Steve frowns. 

He already told her about the hand holding and that’s pretty much it. He doesn’t know what she thinks will happen between Eddie and him when they say goodbye right here in the middle of the street, but he nods anyway.

They each get a hug from Nancy too and then she leads Robin away towards her car.  “Bye, boys! Miss you already!” Robin says, waving enthusiastically at them. 

Steve wiggles his fingers at her and Eddie gives her a two-fingered salute, both of them chuckling in amusement. 

“Um, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Steve says when it’s just the two of them and a few other moviegoers trickling out of the cinema. He can see Eddie’s van parked just across the street while his own car is a few blocks away. 

“Nope, Stevie, I’m walking you to your car,” Eddie says with a wink. “For protection, of course.”

“You know I keep a nailbat in my trunk, right?” Steve asks with a raised eyebrow. He’s over the movie by now, not worried about some creature jumping him on his way to his car— not more than usual at least.

Eddie shrugs. “My protection then.”

“If you insist,” Steve says with a chuckle.

They start walking towards Steve’s car, the street getting darker and quieter the further away they get from The Hawk. Their shoulders keep bumping together, the back of their fingers brushing with how close they’re walking. Every time it happens, Steve wants to grab Eddie’s hand and hold it again. 

“Hey, um, sorry I dragged you to this movie,” Eddie says after a short silence. 

Steve glances at him and finds Eddie looking at him shyly. “You didn’t drag me,” he says, nudging Eddie with his elbow. “I said yes.”

“But why? If you hate horror movies so much.” 

“I like hanging out with you,” he says and Eddie’s eyes widen almost imperceptively. “And I had fun just— not during the movie. Though holding your hand wasn’t so bad.”

Eddie chuckles, ducking his head. “Mediocre hand holding is what I’m best at,” he jokes. “And I’m glad you said yes, you know I love my Stevie time, but maybe next time you can pick the movie.” 

“You mean next time we come here with Robin and Nancy?”

Eddie bites his lip, side-eyeing Steve. “Sure, yeah, or y’know just the two of us, if that’s a thing you’d want to do.”

His voice is small and he’s anxiously playing with his fingers and with a start, Steve realizes that Eddie is nervous. Cute, Steve thinks.

He tilts his head. “Like a date?” 

There’s a sharp intake of breath and then Eddie is grabbing some hair and tugging it in front of his face, but Steve still sees the way his cheeks turn red. He mumbles, “Um, yeah?”

Butterflies explode in Steve’s stomach then and he feels a dopey smile stretching over his lips. Eddie’s eyes go wide, looking hopeful at Steve’s expression. He spits the hair from his mouth, revealing a small smile tugging at his lips. ��How about next Friday?” Steve asks.

A disbelieving laugh tumbles from Eddie’s lips. “Really?” When Steve nods, Eddie lets out a cute little yelp at the confirmation. “Friday it is,” he says. His eyes get a little twinkle in them. “Do I need to pretend to be scared so you’ll hold my hand?” 

“Nope,” he says, and after looking around and making sure they’re alone in the street, Steve finally reaches over and grabs Eddie’s hand, intertwining their fingers like Eddie did in the movies. 

Eddie’s mouth makes a little “o” shape as he blinks down at them, color rising in his cheeks. 

Steve tugs on his hand to get him walking again, pressed together to hide their hands between them even if it’s dark and there’s no one around.

Sooner than either of them would’ve liked, they reach the Beemer. “Here we are,” Steve says, leaning back against the car, their hands dangling in the space between them. “And we didn’t even need my nailbat.” 

“You know that’s not the only reason why I walked you to your car, right?” 

Steve’s eyebrows go up as he feigns shock. “You mean you didn’t actually expect us to get attacked by slimy monsters with razor-like teeth?”

“Nope,” Eddie says, stepping closer until he’s pressed against Steve’s body, pushing him against the car. “Not that I’d be surprised in this fucked up town but no, um, I was also hoping I’d get to do this.”

Steve opens his mouth to ask what he means by this but Eddie shuts him up by hesitantly grabbing Steve’s neck and leaning in, softly pressing his lips to Steve’s mouth, who gasps in surprise before the sound melts into a happy sigh. He lets go of Eddie’s hand so he can wrap his arms around Eddie, bringing him closer, tilting his head for a better angle so their lips move together more easily and he can taste butter and salt and the slightest hint of sugar. They keep the kiss short, knowing that despite the lack of street lights around them and the late hour, they’re still in public. 

When Eddie pulls back, his cheeks are bright pink and his eyes are sparkling, his smile giddy and so beautiful. Steve already wants to kiss him again. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve, don’t look at me like that,” Eddie groans, and Steve’s eyes snap up from Eddie’s lips, where they darted to without Steve realizing it.

He blinks. “Like what?”

“Like you want to—” His hand slides through the air as he gestures aggressively, “—eat me or something. I’m trying to be a gentleman here and not drag you into the backseat of your car.”

Steve smirks. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Steeeeeve,” Eddie whines.

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, holding his hands up with a laugh. He doesn’t trust himself not to jump Eddie right now if he stays here any longer anyway. “Goodnight, Eds.” 

Eddie’s face softens. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

When neither of them move— Steve to get in the car and Eddie to go back to his van— Steve shoves him and sends Eddie’s clumsy ass stumbling back. “Go! Before monsters actually jump from the shadows and murder us.” 

“You’d protect me though, wouldn’t you, Stevie?” Eddie teases, batting his eyelashes at him. 

“Always,” Steve says, then makes shooing motions at him. “Now go.”

“Yes, your Majesty, I’m going,” Eddie says as he starts walking— backwards so he can look at Steve some more.  

Steve blows a kiss at him, making Eddie trip over nothing and stumble, but he catches himself and he catches Steve’s kiss in his hand— and then makes out with his hand, making Steve scrunch up his nose and chuckle fondly at the same time. 

He waits until Eddie turns around to get in his car, catching sight of his dopey smile on the rearview mirror as he adjusts it. But he can’t help it— he held hands with Eddie, he’s going on a date with him, he kissed him. 

Turns out Steve does have a reason to call Robin when he gets home after all. 

[steddie-island]

Life finds a way

Written for week 5 of @softsteddieseptember | Prompt: Adoption Rating: G | WC: 1,113 | Tags: Established Steddie, mention of Al being in jail, anxiety about becoming parents ao3 | Divider credit

The plastic seat dug into the backs of Steve's thighs. They'd been sitting in the waiting room for over an hour now. At least Eddie had stopped pacing, had settled for bouncing his leg up and down and fidgeting with the cap of his water bottle.

"Hey." Steve reached over to catch Eddie's hand. He threaded their fingers together and gave a gentle squeeze. "We'll be okay. We can do this."

"Yeah." Eddie didn't sound so sure. He brought his other hand to his mouth to start chewing on his cuticles. It was the same position he'd sat in the night before, only Steve wasn't across from him this time.

Steve rested his chin on Eddie's shoulder and switched which hand he had laced with Eddie's, so he could wrap his other arm around his partner's back. "We'll be okay."

"We've done this before."

"Not like this," Eddie murmured. "Not with— not with someone so small. What if— what if I fuck up? What if I don't know what I'm doing and I fuck up in a way that— that can't be fixed? That I can't take back? What then?"

Eddie's hair was bigger, wilder than it normally was, showing just how many times he'd dragged his hands through it, or had his face hidden in his palms. There was a half empty pack of cigarettes on the table that Steve knew for a fact had only been opened a couple of hours earlier.

"We might fuck up, but it won't be on purpose. Everyone fucks up sometimes." Steve kissed Eddie's knuckles. "I'm not saying it won't be hard, but we can do it. And they're your siblings."

That earned a sound that halfway between a scoff and a whine. "I know. I know. What the fuck— he's old, he's not supposed to be out there just— making more kids he can't take care of."

It'd been a week since the call from the state. A week since they'd found out Al was in jail again, leaving behind two kids that no one else wanted to take responsibility for.

Steve wasn't sure he'd ever seen Eddie this torn up before.

"There are a lot of people out there doing that." Steve caught Eddie's other hand and held them to his own chest. "We don't have to do this. If you really think we can't do it, if you don't want to—"

"I want to," Eddie said quickly, his eyes going wide. "We've talked about having kids before, I just… didn't think this would be how it happened."

"I know. I didn't, either. I didn't think it would be like this, or be so soon…"

"Yeah. Yeah, fuck." Eddie pushed his fingers through his hair again. "I'm scared, Stevie."

Steve cupped Eddie's face between his palms. "It'll be hard. I'm not saying it won't be. We might fuck up. We will fuck up, there's no way for us not to." He smiled a little. "But those kids will be so loved. They'll never have to wonder for even a second whether we love them."

Moisture welled up in Eddie's eyes. He cleared his throat, blinked the tears back, nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, we have that going for us," he said. "And… you want this? With me? You want to do this?"

Steve pulled him in, kissed him gently before resting their foreheads together. "I've never wanted anything more in my life," he admitted. "If you're in, I'm in."

Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve's back, pulling him closer until Steve was sitting in his lap. He brushed their lips together before meeting those eyes he would never get tired of getting lost in. "I'm in."

"Mr. Munson?"

Eddie jerked up out of his seat, nearly dropping his water bottle in the process. "Here— I mean, that's— me."

Steve stood up, too, as the caseworker they'd already met with to fill out paperwork came through the door. There was a bundle in one arm, and her other was holding the hand of a little kid with dark curls and darker eyes.

Steve had always thought that Eddie got his looks from his mom, but those eyes were Eddie's. "Oh…"

There was a soft intake of air. Eddie took a cautious step forward, then squatted down so he was even with the kid in front of him. "Hey, sweetheart. What's your name?"

The kid shot a shy look up to the caseworker, then back to Eddie. "Andrew," he said, but it came out more like Andwew.

"Hi, Andrew. I'm Eddie." He smiled and held his hand out, and Steve melted as the little boy in front of them took Eddie's hand. "You'll be coming to stay with us for a little while."

Andrew bit his lips and looked up at the caseworker. There was so much Eddie in that nervous little glance. "Sissy, too?" he asked.

Eddie gave him a nod. "Yeah. Both of you."

The caseworker smiled and smoothed a hand over Andrew's curls. "They're very nice," she said. "They'll take good care of you."

Andrew looked past Eddie to Steve for the first time. "Who him?" he asked.

Steve squatted beside Eddie and held his hand out, too, just like Eddie had done. "I'm Steve. I'll be taking care of you, too." He gestured to the shirt Andrew was wearing. "Do you like dinosaurs?"

"Yeah." He ran a pudgy little hand over the print of his shirt. "They go—" He held his hands up like claws and made a dinosaur roaring sound.

Oh, yeah. This kid was a mini Eddie, and Steve was in love.

"They do! They're so cool, aren't they?" Eddie looked at Steve, his eyes swimming, his smile wide. "How about we take you and your sister home, we can make some dinosaur nuggets and watch a movie?"

Andrew perked up at the offer, and he didn't look back to the caseworker this time. "Can we?"

"Yeah!" Eddie straightened up and offered Andrew his hand. "We definitely can, if you want to!"

"Okay!"

Steve stood and held his arms out for the baby wrapped in a soft yellow blanket. He could make out her dark hair, not as curly as her big brothers' hair but the same dark shade of brown. That was definitely Eddie's mouth, too. "Hi, sweetheart. You're coming home with us," he murmured.

"Call if you need anything," the caseworker said with a squeeze to Steve's elbow and a smile at Eddie. "I'll check in in a few days."

"Thank you," Eddie said. He bent to pick Andrew up, then rested a hand at the small of Steve's back to guide him to the door. "C'mon. Let's go home."

[scoops-aboy86]

Your Smile Is My Favorite

Prompt Used: Summer reading (@thehairandthebanished) and cheesy pickup lines (@softsteddieseptember) | Your Smile Is My Favorite | Rating: T | CW: mild body image issues | Additional Tags: chubby Steve Harrington, gay Eddie Munson, pining, bizarre communication through intricate pickup line rituals, Robin loves these two idiots

I wrote most of this while on a 11 hour car trip, I’ll post it to ao3 later. 🥱 Still the 4th in my time zone though!

It’s hard to stay absorbed in a book when Steve Harrington is swimming laps in his little red shorts, but Eddie is managing. 

Sort of. Kinda. 

Okay, not really. Or at all. 

But he’s read Return of the King so many times before that he can fill in any paragraphs his eyes accidentally skim over from memory, so it’s fine. And he definitely rolled high on stealth by being smart enough to bring sunglasses, because Middle Earth has nothing on his view of Steve’s chest while the guy does the backstroke. 

Earlier in the summer Steve would have been poolside with Eddie and Robin, sprawled out in the sun snacking on pizza and chips with them and letting Eddie draw him into their umpteenth debate on which is better, Coca Cola or Mountain Dew. Now he’s going at it in the pool like he has something to prove, or diving in over and over while complaining about his form. 

Which, Eddie thinks, is a very fine form indeed. He’s thickened up some since their harrowing adventures last Spring Break, transformed from merely good-looking to downright beefy in a way that makes Eddie’s mouth water and fingers twitch with the urge to rake through that tantalizing chest hair, test the give of Steve’s deliciously softer pecs and stomach. It’s starting to become a problem. 

As if Aragorn, son of Arathorn, would have an easier time concentrating on a book about the Party’s adventures if Arwen were parading around in front of him while scantily clad, Eddie thinks, trying to make himself feel like a little bit less of a pining loser. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Robin says, sounding bored from the next lounge chair over. She hasn’t even looked up from her own book. 

Eddie considers protesting. He could; they’ve never actually discussed the way they’d clocked each other as queer during Spring Break, he has plausible deniability. 

Instead, he says, “Got a camera you can loan me, Birdie?”

She snorts, sliding her bookmark into place as she turns towards him on her lounger. “No, but now that we’re talking about it, can we talk about how your crush is visible from, like, space?”

“He is not!” The protest tumbles out of him before Eddie even thinks about it, and his cheeks immediately flare red under layers of sunblock. It’s not like Robin would talk about the way her platonic soulmate had recently put on some extra weight like that, Eddie is just a moron. Well, he’ll just have to blow past it and pretend he’d been… bluffing about his crush not being Steve. Yeah. “Uh, I mean. Fuck, I’m not being too obvious, am I?”

Robin’s grin is smug, and definitely a little bit at his expense. “Not really. You’re super easily distracted when there’s more people around, so the kids haven’t picked up on it yet.” She glances back at the pool and the expression softens to amused affection. “It’s written all over your face right now, but I’m pretty sure dingus over there has this fixed idea about your type being all dark clothes and leather and tattoos. He’ll never figure it out on his own, completely hopeless.”

That’s a relief to hear. Eddie relaxes beneath the shade of his poolside umbrella, glances down at his book again… 

And snaps it shut and scrunches up on his side to face her too. He’ll be able to find his place again later, more or less. The occasional splashes of Steve reaching one side of the pool and flipping around to swim back fades into the background for the first time all day in the face of this new, unexplored conversational territory. 

“So,” he says matter-of-factly. Because he’s reconciled with this a long time ago: Robin has literally helped save his life a number of times, she’s safe. “Clearly you’ve got me all figured out. And there’s no way you could be around that all the time and still get anything done without being… oppositely inclined.”

She nods, and the teeny tiny bit of him that had been braced just in case he was wrong relaxes. “Yeah. I don’t see the appeal, but I’ve literally seen a few girls walk into things when they catch sight of him.”

Eddie snickers, like the hypocrite slightly wired on nerves and relief that he is. Curbs, trash cans, the glass doors of Family Video… he’s been there, done that, and been forced to turn it into a bit so no one catches on to what all of those instances had in common. (Steve smiling at him. Steve looking at him. Just, Steve.)

“Not as many lately though,” Robin confides, a little sad. “Shallow bitches.”

“Shallow as hell,” Eddie agrees. One hundred percent. “They have no idea what they’re missing out on.”

“It’s taking a toll on him,” she continues. “You know, how his hair kinda deflates a little when he’s bummed out? Those great big puppy dog eyes come out and it’s all—” her voice drops in a possible Steve impression “—‘Is it me, Rob? What am I doing wrong?’”

Eddie huffs a wordless disagreement with that whole sentiment. Wrong with Steve? Wrong with Steve? There’s nothing wrong with Steve, in his opinion. Badass scars, heart of gold, hair of the gods, and a little more meat on his bones making him even more solid and dependable? Sign Eddie the fuck up. 

Sure, there’s also the nightmares and a general jumpiness whenever the phone rings or lights flicker or a radio starts to crackle, but the same can be said of pretty much everyone in the Party, Eddie included. It’s perfectly understandable after everything they’ve been through, the number of times they’ve helped save the world. 

“I think that’s why he’s leaning so hard into swimming again,” Robin adds. And even though she seems totally casual, there’s something… not pointed, exactly, but definitely not dull behind her words. She’s giving him a look that Eddie can’t figure out, because he just doesn’t have the same kind of in-tune-ness with her that she and Steve display on a regular basis, having conversations with nothing but stares, blinks, and funny eyebrow twitches. 

He tries anyway. Even pushes his sunglasses up into his hair for a clearer look, but message not received. Frowning, he glances over his shoulder at the pool again. “Because he’s… upset about not going on dates lately?”

Not that Eddie had been paying attention or anything. Not that he’d daydreamed hopelessly a few times that it was because Steve was hung up on him, lingering a bit more than necessary when dropping off and picking up the kids on Hellfire days. Inviting Eddie to hangout days like this. Taking Eddie up on it whenever he offers to smoke the guy out, usually when they both have dark circles from sleeping poorly blooming under their eyes and everything about the no longer in peril world around them feels like too much. Springing for fast food whenever they get the munchies, since Eddie supplied the grass…

“Because he thinks there’s something wrong about him,” Robin corrects, “that he needs to work out.” 

Oh. What—oh. Eddie blinks, reorients, and realizes that the thing he hadn’t been able to read before is concern. “But… he looks so good,” he says dumbly. 

Steve is self-conscious about his weight? Oh no, that won’t do at all. Eddie’s mind is already racing through ways to reassure their friend that he looks great, fantastic, amazing, all the positive adjectives that he knows. He wants to build Steve up, make sure he knows that there are definitely people who would absolutely jump at the chance to be with him. 

Or, you know, right here. Or something. 

Splashing sounds draw his attention back to the pool, and it’s Steve wading up the shallow end towards them, apparently tired out for the time being. And Eddie… panics. 

“Damn, Harrington,” he blurts out, “is it hot out here or is it just you?”

Which is. It’s. Something out of that terrible pickup lines book one of the Corroded Coffin guys found at a yard sale a few weeks ago—he can’t remember who exactly, maybe Jeff?—that they’d all howled over, reading the worst ones out loud in ridiculous voices. Why the hell is that what popped into his head?

Steve pauses with one foot still in the pool, squinting at him. “Uh… It’s definitely hot today. Are you… overheated or something? I could get you some ice water.”

“No, I’m good,” Eddie manages. And then, because he’s an idiot, he continues, “Have I told you lately that you’re very attractive? You must eat magnets for breakfast.”

He catches a glimpse of Robin out of the corner of one eye. For a second he hopes that she might step in and save him from himself, but nope; her face is frozen in a look of appalled fascination. No help coming from that quarter. 

“I,” Steve starts, stepping the rest of the way out of the pool and putting both hands on his hips like he doesn’t know what else to do with them. “Dude, are you high?”

If only he were. The proximity of Steve’s naked, dripping wet chest and the gentle roll over the top of his swim trunks seems to have roughly the same effect on him though. 

“Nope,” Eddie squeaks. His face feels incandescent, and he can’t even blame it on a sunburn. And still he opens his mouth again, because he’s already gone this far, might as well commit to the bit. “But we should smoke up later, sweetheart. I think weed be really good together.”

That one wasn’t from the book. It’s an Eddie Munson original. If death took him now, he would not hate it. 

Steve looks to Robin, who shrugs and throws him a towel. He catches it and starts drying his hair, returning his attention to Eddie with a perplexed look. “Low blood sugar?” he asks, and it takes a second for Eddie to place that Steve is still trying to guess why he’s being so weird. 

As if the Freak of Hawkins needs something so pedestrian as a reason. 

“We can order pizza,” Robin suggests in a strangled voice. She’s trying so hard not to laugh, which is good. Probably. 

Eddie can muster a little gratitude for that, right up until he opens his mouth again and “Oh, are you craving pizza? Because I’d love to get a pizz-a you” falls out. 

… Maybe he does have low blood sugar. Or, like. A brain tumor or something. 

Steve sends Robin another look, then shrugs and heads inside the house. Presumably to order pizza, and hopefully for Eddie’s sanity to put on a shirt. 

As soon as the glass door slides shut behind him, Robin whips around and whisper yells, “What the hell was that?!”

Eddie throws himself back on his lounger and covers his face with both hands. “I don’t know. I wanted to cheer him up, make him feel good about himself or something, but—”

“And you thought hitting on him would do the trick? Very badly, I might add!”

“Oh, like you know anything about what works when hitting on dudes!” Eddie shoots back, even though she’s right. So very right. Cruelly correct, to a poor gay man who is suffering. 

He rolls over on the chair, only putting a knee or elbow through the plastic straps beneath him a few times before flopping face down and tugging his own unused towel over his entire head. It’s almost restful under there. The lounger cradles his face a little too high because the back is still angled slightly up for, you know, lounging… and Return of the King is dry and solid under one shoulder, twisting his frame a little oddly, but other than that…

~

By the time Steve comes back outside, Eddie barely notices. He feels slow and drowsy from the heat, everything muffled by the towel. But he does hear a scrape over the concrete beneath him and cracks an eye open to peer through the gaps in the chair. 

It’s a slice of pepperoni and extra cheese on a paper plate, positioned directly below his head, right where he can smell it. 

Fuck, okay. He can’t not get up for food freely offered. It’s just not how Wayne raised him. 

“There you are,” Steve says brightly when Eddie emerges and resituates himself with the plate in hand. “Feeling better? Seemed like the heat was getting to you there.”

“Must’ve,” Eddie replies with a weak laugh. “Thanks.” For the pizza, and for allowing him some semblance of dignity to fall back on after… whatever that had been. Because Steve, above all else, is a good dude; something Eddie has been all too aware of for over a year now. 

Steve passes him a can of Mountain Dew and taps his own Coke can against it like a toast. “Don’t mention it. And, uh, Eds…” He’s starting to smile, just a little. “I know this is going to sound cheesy, but I think you're the gratest.”

Somewhere to Eddie’s other side, Robin chokes on her drink and has to cough a few times to clear it. 

Eddie just stares, jaw dropped open and feeling flushed all over, heart in his throat. Even with his hair still wet and smelling strongly of chlorine, Steve has somehow retained that signature swoop. Maybe he fixed it while he was inside, procuring pizza and slipping into an old and raggedy high school gym shirt that makes him only slightly less biteable. 

And that smile, fully bloomed now and brighter than the afternoon sun. Like he’s decided, playfully, to meet Eddie at his level no matter how dumb it is. 

“Alright,” Robin rasps. “Okay. I’m just gonna go inside to finish my summer reading while you dingi do… whatever this is.” Followed by the creak of her chair as she clambers off. 

“Don’t mess with the thermostat,” Steve calls after her. He turns slightly to do it and releases Eddie from his tractor beam stare, letting Eddie breathe again—when had he stopped doing that? And then those hazel eyes are back on him, hypnotizing. “Well? Cat got your tongue, or do you have any more?”

The words are… different, now that they’re alone. Quieter. Steve is leaning forward slightly, legs over the side of the chair as he faces Eddie. Elbows on his knees and Coke can dangling forgotten from one big hand. His stare is intense in a way that is almost too terrifying to try to read into. 

Eddie wets his lips nervously. “No, I… I’ve got more.” He sits up a little straighter, turns to put his feet down on the shaded but still warm concrete and face Steve head-on. “I’m no photographer, but I can picture us together.”

It sounds, feels, almost terrifyingly like a confession. 

Steve’s grin gets impossibly brighter and Eddie is back to not daring to breathe, because what is happening. “Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile.”

Which is. That’s. Does he? Eddie is having some sort of out of body experience trying to think back. 

The part of him that’s still anchored in bones and nerves and skin takes a deep breath. Committing to it. 

“Of all the beautiful curves on your body, your smile is my favorite,” he hears himself say, and it’s probably the plainest, most honest words he’s uttered in his entire twenty-one years of life. 

It’s not like he thinks Steve is going to punch him for saying it. Or even for saying it like that. Good dude, inescapable. But he wasn’t expecting the guy’s eyes to go big and molten, or for him to swallow hard, all while that amazing smile never dims. 

“I’m… Shit, I’m going to give you a kiss, Eddie. If you don't like it, you can return it.”

And then Steve leans forward, and does. 

~

Half an hour later, Robin comes back outside to check on them and finds the two young men twined together on one lounger. Steve is sprawled half on top of Eddie, who looks like he’s holding him in place with both legs and teasing a half eaten slice of pizza against Steve’s mouth. Steve snaps at it with his teeth, and Eddie yanks it away but then goes back in to tap it against his lips anyway with a laugh, loose and easy. Happy. 

They both look so happy together. 

She knew it. All she’d had to do was get those two pining idiots talking about something real—even if Eddie had surprised her with a deeply unexpected means of doing so. Whatever, he’s weird, nothing new there. The important thing is that her plan to end her two best friends’ ridiculous mutual pining for one another had worked. 

And Steve hadn’t believed her when she’d insisted that the metalhead definitely doesn’t think it’s a bad thing that his clothes all fit a little more snug these days. Ha. One more tally on her own You Rule column. 

Feeling magnanimous, Robin decides to wait until they’re done with lunch to turn the hose on them. 

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[miss-bushido]

make the world safe and sound for you

written for @softsteddieseptember week 3, prompt ‘anniversary’

Rating: G

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

Steve pressed his face to the pillow and groaned. “No, my head hurts. Come back later.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Eddie murmured, pressing a light kiss to Steve’s temple, smoothing back some flyaway strands. “How late were you up?”

Steve groaned, tapping his fingers on the bed as he counted in his head. “Last time I saw the clock it said 4:30 AM.” He had been pulling all-nighters while working to get his Master’s degree. He was only a few months away from being finished with the program, and he just wanted to see the back of it.

Eddie winced. It was 7:30 AM. Normally, Steve would be up by 6 AM, ensuring he would see first thing the text messages or emails from his boss asking him to sub for one of the teachers at a local school. Eddie grabbed Steve’s phone and winced again. There were three missed calls from his boss, and a flurry of text messages.

“I’m making an executive decision,” Eddie announced, sitting on the bed behind Steve. “I’m telling your boss that you’re sick and that you won’t be able to sub anywhere today.”

Steve scrubbed his face with his hands. “No, I can-”

“Honey, I love you, but you’re talking out of your ass. You need to rest. You can’t expect to be effective with less than 3 hours of sleep.” Eddie put his fingertip to Steve’s plush lips to silence any further protests. “I’ll call her and let her know you’re sick, and that you should be more than fine come Monday morning. When was the last time you took a Friday off?”

Steve blinked, his eyes heavy and scratchy from lack of sleep. “Almost two years ago.”

“Exactly. So. Since you’re not going to work today, go back to sleep. I don’t want to see you downstairs before 9:30 AM, clear?”

In spite of how exhausted he was, Steve felt his stomach flutter at the tone Eddie used. “Yes, sir.”

Eddie smirked, unable to resist giving him a kiss. “Let’s save that for tonight, okay?”

“Daddy?” came a small, sleepy voice from the hallway. The bedroom door was pushed open to reveal their toddler daughter Rosie standing there, clutching her stuffed duck. “We’re thirsty,” she said, her voice low and rough in her throat. Her twin brother, Theo, was with her as he always was, clutching her purple sleep shirt with his left hand, his right thumb in his mouth.

Eddie’s heart swelled to look at them. He and Steve had thought long and hard about children after their marriage, and though they were fine with adoption, they wanted to try and have biological children of their own. Obviously, neither of them could get pregnant (not for lack of trying), so they spoke to the women in their lives; Nancy, Robin, Chrissy, Vickie, to see if any of them would be willing to either donate one of their eggs or become a surrogate, or both.

In the end, Chrissy said she would do both for them: donate her eggs, and be a surrogate. It was almost immediate that she became pregnant with the twins. When they were born, Eddie cried harder than he ever had in his life at seeing their chubby cheeks and bright eyes. He couldn’t believe it was three years ago that their little family was completed.

“You’re thirsty?” Eddie asked, holding his arms out for both of them to come in. Theo broke into a big toothy grin and ran over to jump on Eddie, his light brown hair bouncing . Both Steve and Eddie loved their children equally, and they knew the twins loved them the same as well. But Theo seemed to have an affinity for Eddie: following him around and looking very interested when he practiced his guitar. He even accompanied Eddie to some band rehearsals, but never to one of their shows. Maybe when he was older. He listened with rapt attention as Eddie read to them: The Hobbit, the Redwall books, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and the paintings he did, while rudimentary, were clearly influenced by the stories.

Rosie could frequently be found snuggling with Steve: she liked putting barrettes in his hair, painting his nails and putting lipstick on him. Whenever they had a tea party, she put a silver tiara on him and a pair of ruby clip on earrings, telling him, "Papa looks so pretty."

How could Steve resist? How could either of them resist?

While her brother went to Eddie, she toddled over to the other side of the bed. She tossed her stuffed duck up and clambered up, crawling over to Steve. She looked the most like Eddie: she had his brown doe eyes and the waves of her hair were like his, though she took after Chrissy in terms of her strawberry blonde hair color, and the way she smiled. “Papa?” she asked, looking down at Steve. “No work today?”

Steve looked up sleepily at his daughter, unable to stop the big smile spreading across his face. “Not today, baby. Papa stayed up too late doing school work.”

“That’s silly,” she said, collapsing dramatically against the pillows. Steve had seen Eddie do that exact same thing more than a few times, and it always made him laugh.

“Papa is silly, Duck,” he admitted, quickly reaching forward and pulling her close, blowing raspberries on her neck, her shrieking giggles filling the air. He still had a headache, and her shrieks of glee were not helping, but he could bear it.

“I keep telling him that,” Eddie said as he sat back down, Theo leaning against him. Theo had Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes, but they were turning more towards green the older he got. His hair was dark brown and straight, and though he was quieter than his sister, the smile he had was pure Eddie. Both of them worried they would have a little hell-raiser on their hands as he got older and got more confidence.

“‘M still thirsty, Daddy,” Theo murmured against Eddie’s chest. He looked up at Eddie with his big eyes. “Choccy milk?”

“For breakfast?” Eddie replied in mock shock and awe. Theo immediately started giggling, tilting his head back as he watched Eddie perform. “There will be chaos if we move choccy milk time to morning instead of dinner.”

“Pleeeeease?” Theo pleaded. “Please Daddy?”

“Yeah! Pleeeeease?” Rosie shouted, jumping up from laying next to Steve, all but throwing herself on Eddie’s back.

“Oh! Attacked on both sides! The treachery! The betrayaaaal!” Eddie kept his left arm firmly wrapped around Theo before he hooked his right arm back to wrap around Rosie. He stood up, both of them in his arms. “Steve! Don’t just lay in bed! Save meeeee!” He yelled this while moving quickly out of the bedroom, giving Steve a knowing glance as he shut the door behind him with his foot.

Steve laughed at the display of his little family, though he was grateful that Eddie managed to get them out of the room and leave him in peace. He didn’t see his phone on the bed, so Eddie must have taken it with him. Which was good, as it meant he could fall back to sleep like Eddie wanted him to.

A few hours later, Steve woke up, feeling the warmth of a small body against his chest. He opened his eyes to see Theo snuggled up against him, snoring lightly. Behind him, Rosie and Eddie were also asleep. Both had their mouths open slightly, right arms above their heads as they slept.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered, feeling happy tears well in his eyes.

[softsteddieseptember]

Thanks for joining me with Soft Steddie September!

this event will take place for the month of September with weekly prompts to choose from; pick one, a few, or all of them! This is a sister event with @steddiesmuttyseptember so with that in mind, it is an 18+ event, so minors...gtf please.

If your age is not in your bio, you will not be reblogged or added to the queue.

No minimum or maximum word count but the fluffier the better as far as I’m concerned. If you go over 1500 words though, please put it under a read more.

Interpret the prompts however you want with the stipulation that this is supposed to be wholesome and G or T rated.

Please list your prompts, and rating at the top of the page and tag @softsteddieseptember so it can be added to the queue for rebloging. Also please use #soft steddie september

IF: you choose to combine prompts from this event and Smutty September that’s fine but please do the following:

Mark your ratings M or E and put any explicit content under the read more and tag @steddiesmuttyseptember so it can be added to the queue of reblogs.

a '🥹' will be commented once your post has been seen and added to the queue. please send this blog or @mugloversonly a message if you don't see the emoji comment within two days of your submission.

You can add your submissions to Soft Steddie September AO3 once you receive confirmation of it being added to the queue on here!

ARTISTS!

art submissions are welcome! same rules apply:

must be rated G or T and should follow at least one of the prompts for the week.

a ‘🥹’ will be commented once the art is added to the queue and masterlist.

WEEK ONE PROMPTS (September 1st-7th)

cheesy pickup lines | Facing your fears | First date | Meet cute | Watching a sunset

WEEK TWO PROMPTS(September 8th-14th)

Telling someone about the relationship | Blind date | Dreams of the future | Confessing your feelings | Road Trips

WEEK THREE PROMPTS(September 15th-21st)

Anniversary | Choosing them | Fluff | Matchmaker | Saying I love you

WEEK FOUR PROMPTS(September 22nd-28th)

Dancing in the rain | Making something for them | Proposal | Protection | The golden years

WEEK FIVE PROMPTS(September 29th-30th)

Adoption | Buying them flowers | Cooking dinner | Overheard Conversation | Wedding

If you have any questions, feel free to ask the blog or @mugloversonly

If you want to look at the sister event, Smutty Steddie September it's here thank you Mickala and to @wynnyfryd for helping me out with this!

The softer the better! - Mugs 🥹

[talanashta]

Cheesy Pick-Up Lines

For Week 1 of @softsteddieseptember

Rating: T | No CWs | Word Count: 230 | Pairings: pre-Steddie

Steve sat at the bar sipping a beer as he watched Robin dancing with a girl on the dancefloor. They’d found about this place from a feminist/queer bookstore that Steve still wasn’t 100% sure how Robin had found out about. She’d told him about it in whispers at work, and he agreed to take her this weekend. It wasn’t bad. Honestly, it felt like any other bar, just with a more diverse clientele.

He’d looked around a bit, checked out a couple guys. He hadn’t seen anyone he really wanted to approach yet. As he took the last sip of his beer and turned to ask the bartender for another, a guy with shaggy, dark curls approached him and hoped onto the barstool next to him.

“Hey, man,” the guy said.

“Hey.” Steve lifted a hand in greeting.

The guy looked around a moment before turning to Steve. “Have we met?”

Steve scanned the guy up and down, not recognizing him. He was about to say that too, before he was cut off.

“Because you look exactly like my next partner,” the guy said confidently.

He can’t help himself, Steve started cracking up.

The guy gave Steve a bright grin. “I’m Eddie.” He held his hand out.

Steve shook it. “I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“Let me get your next drink,” Eddie said as the bartender came back over.

[alicetallula]

Soft Steddie September 2024 - Week 3 : Anniversary - 17.09.2024

Here's my little contribution to the @softsteddieseptember 😊

Week 3 : Anniversary - Steddie Anniversary Gifts - 17.09.2024

I went with something simple with them offering each other's jewelry for the occasion

Done using ink pense, alcohol markers, gel pens a graphite pencil and an acrylic paint pen

AO3 post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

The Smutty Aftermath

[midsummer-semantics]

come fly with me

Here's my week 1 submission for @steddiesmuttyseptember and @softsteddieseptember 🫶🏼

Prompts: Mile High Club, Meet Cute, Watching the Sunset

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Las Vegas, Meddling Robin Buckley, Gay Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Meet-Cute, First Meetings, First Dates, Blind Date, Eddie and Nancy are siblings, background Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler, Mile High Club, Steve Harrington Has a Breeding Kink, Eddie Munson Has a Breeding Kink, these men just want to get each other pregnant so bad, Condoms, because they're still smart about it, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Happy Ending, it's kind of cracky but whatever, Daddy Kink, almost forgot that one. it's only once but it's there

Summary:

Steve cannot believe he let Robin talk him into this. Honestly, of all her meddling and insane plans in this past, this one really takes the cake. A blind date is bad enough, but a blind date where he’ll be stuck having dinner in a plane for an hour with no way to leave if it goes bad? Steve doesn’t mind the flying aspect, it’s the idea that he can’t make an excuse to go to the bathroom and run if the guy turns out to suck. What’s he supposed to do? Do they have parachutes for this kind of thing?

————— Or: Robin and her girlfriend Nancy set Steve and Eddie up on a romantic date in the sky... or do they?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58667440

[mugloversonly]

I did it. @softsteddieseptember here to soothe the ache of angst

I feel like I need like a Steddie Soft September or some shit after angsty august

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Microfic

September prompt: shower

399 words

Rating: G

No warnings apply

@steddiemicrofic

Steve groans as he peers up at the sky on his drive home. It’s not that he hates rain, necessarily—he’s not a huge fan of storms, but rain’s usually okay—but it’s just one more thing he doesn’t need today. He hates trying to run inside without getting wet. It never works and he feels stupid for doing it—he can’t avoid every raindrop—but he also doesn’t feel like getting wet today. And of course, the umbrella that’s usually in the car had broken, so he’s got no covering.

He makes it home just as the sky opens. In a second everything is soaked, and he leans back in his seat and groans again, shutting his eyes for a moment, trying to steel himself for the dash inside.

He hears a faint whoop over the sound of the rain, and he opens his eyes and turns to see Eddie running towards him, grinning wide and wild.

“What are you doing,” Steve demands as he gets out, grinning at the absolute loon that is his husband. “You’re getting soaked!”

“Isn’t it great?” Eddie agrees.

Steve makes a face. “As long as it doesn’t turn into a storm, I guess.”

“Nah, it’s just a shower, baby. Now come dance with me in the rain!”

Steve laughs as he lets Eddie drag him out into the street, his slacks and button down clashing with Eddie’s oversized tee and sweatpants. He loves his husband an insane amount.

He laughs as Eddie spins him around, as Eddie dips him, at Eddie’s flail and squawk as Steve dips him. He laughs as he feels his shirt stick to his skin, as he feels his shoes fill with water.

But they’ll dry, and he’s got other shoes to wear until then, so he lets Eddie continue to dance with him, first humming some Metallica then somehow switching smoothly into a song from that U2 album Steve likes.

“I love you,” he suddenly murmurs, and Eddie stops humming to grin and reply.

“And I love you.” He nuzzles Steve’s cheek. “Always.”

“Always,” Steve agrees, sighing as he relaxes into Eddie. Eddie starts slow dancing with him, small steps and sways instead of the exuberant movements from before. “I was upset at the rain. On my way home. I didn’t think I wanted to get wet.”

“Baby, you should’ve told me-”

“No.” Steve smiles, kisses Eddie. “I just needed you.”

[medusapelagia]

Steddie Events September Update

New month new update!

Steddie Microfic ( @steddiemicrofic ) This month's prompt is shower | 399 words Event info

Steddie Song Fic ( @steddiesongfics) This month any of the song fics should either follow steddiesmuttyseptember prompts OR steddiemicrofic prompts and there's no word count! Event info

Steddie's Back to School Bash (@thehairandthebanished) A week long Steddie event! These are the prompts 9/1 Summer Fling, 9/2 Pool Party, 9/3 Back to school Shopping, 9/4 Summer Reading, 9/5 Sunburn, 9/6 Last Day of Summer, 9/7 1st Day of School. Event info

Steddie Big Bang ( @steddiebang2024) Posting season is coming!!! Look out for the incredible fics that will be posted starting on the 15th of September! Event info

Steddie Smutty September (@steddiesmuttyseptember) A low pressure event with 5 weekly prompts to keep things heated! Event info

Soft Steddie September (@softsteddieseptember) It looks like September is officially the Steddie month! Here another event with weekly prompts to choose from! Event info

Steddie Holiday drabbles ( @steddieholidaydrabbles) After an amazing series of Christmas prompts, Steddie Holiday drabbles is ready to give us even more prompts during the year! These are some of their ideas, but keep an eye on their Tumblr page for more info! September 25th - Anniversary (getting together, wedding, dating, etc.) Event info

Steddie Spooktober (@steddie-spooktober) A month of Spooky Steddie Prompts! Event info

As always feel free to reblog and add other events I might have missed!

under the cut past events masterpost!

Steddie Angsty August ( @steddieangstyaugust ) August is over but there are many fics ready for you either in the Master Post or in the AO3 collection! Check them out!

Steddie Week 2024 ( @steddie-week ) AO3 Collection, masterpost fic, master post art

Steddie Summer Exchange (@steddiesummerexchange) Posting season just ended and here is the AO3 collection

[steveseddie]

full circle

steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,8k | cw: mention of throwing up | tags: pre-season 4, different first meetings, eddie is afraid of heights, steve is a sweetheart, holding hands, first kiss

for week one of @softsteddieseptember using the prompt “facing your fears” 

read on ao3 here

Jeff and Gareth stumble out of the Ferris Wheel and Eddie snorts out a laugh.  

Jeff is struggling to keep them both upright as Gareth leans all of his weight on him, his face alarmingly green. Jeff manages to get them to the picnic table where Eddie is sitting without Gareth barfing but when he plops down next to Eddie he scoots away, putting some distance between them just in case. 

“Shouldn’t’ve gone on the Ferris Wheel after swallowing three fucking corn dogs, Gare,” Eddie sniggers, taking a drag of the cig he’d been smoking while his two friends were spinning fifty feet from the ground. 

“Don’t-” Gareth mumbles, cutting himself off with a gagging sound that makes Eddie sit on top of the table just to put more space between them. “Don’t mention corn dogs. Or food,” he finishes meekly, hunching forward and burying his face in his hands.  

Jeff gives him a pat on the shoulder. “It’s your fault, man,” he tells Eddie, who gasps, affronted by the accusation. “If you didn’t fuck off to go take a piss then Gareth wouldn’t’ve had to go on it with me.” 

Eddie shrugs, the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Whatcha want me to say, Jeff? When you gotta go, you gotta go.” 

(The truth is Eddie didn’t have to go. 

He lied about it and then wandered around the fairgrounds aimlessly until he was certain Jeff and Gareth had gone on the Ferris Wheel.

Because Eddie is terrified of heights, a fact no one but his uncle is aware of given how cool and unmetal it is.)

“Ugh, I gotta go,” Gareth grumbles, stumbling over to some bushes before throwing up all over them. 

Eddie recoils with a grimace. “Dude!”  

Gareth pulls himself together. He wipes his mouth and glares at him over his shoulder. “Shut up, Ed, you wouldn’t be doing any better if it was you who went up-” He pauses, narrowing his eyes at Eddie. “Wait, how come I’ve never seen you go on the Ferris Wheel?” 

Oh crap. 

“I’ve been on it,” Eddie shrugs, lying as convincingly as he can. “Many times.”

Jeff studies him curiously. “No, no, Gare, is right. We’ve been coming here for three years and you’ve never been on it with us!”

“I’ve been on it,” Eddie insists. “Just you know with other people.” 

They both snort. “Oh yeah?” Jeff asks. “Who?” 

“Yeah, Eddie, you don’t have any other friends,” Gareth adds. 

“I do!” Eddie protests, waving his hands like it will make names appear out of thin air. “I have Freak!”

Jeff raises an eyebrow. “What’s his real name?” 

“Uh-” Eddie shrugs. “Freak?” 

Gareth shakes his head. The color is back on his face but Eddie wishes he’d go back to hurling his guts out. “If I didn’t know any better, Eddie, I’d say you’re afraid to go on it.” 

“Pfffft,” Eddie slaps his knee with a laugh. “I am not.”

“Prove it then,” Gareth says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?” 

“Go on the Ferris Wheel now.”

“Uh, can I finish my cig first?” Eddie asks, trying to stall.

But his friends won’t let him. “No,” they say at the same time. 

Well, shit.

“Ugh, fiiiiiine,” Eddie says, throwing his arms up in a tantrum before snuffing the cig against the table.

He stands up and, flanked by his two friends, starts walking towards the Ferris Wheel. As he does, he considers the pros and cons of fleeing- he’s gotten very good at running from people and neither Gareth nor Jeff are as quick as some of the jocks he’s had to outrun before.

But Eddie realizes he might not need to run away when they reach the line just as the guy manning the ride opens the last car to let the last two people in.

“Won’t you look at that!” Eddie whirls around, clapping his hands together. “It’s full! Oh well, there’s always next year!” 

He throws his arms around Jeff and Gareth and starts dragging them away. Only for them to stop in their tracks when there’s a voice behind them. 

“We have one spot left!” The guy announces. “One spot left! Who wants to ride?” 

Gareth whirls around. “He does!” He says, pointing at Eddie who curses inwardly. “He’ll do it. Right, Eddie?” 

Through gritted teeth, Eddie mutters ‘if you insist’ because what other fucking choice does he have?

He makes his way to the front of the line like a man stepping into the gallows, jaw clenched and hands balled up into fists at his sides pausing again just as he’s about to get on. 

Because sitting on the Ferris Wheel car is no other than Steve fucking Harrington.

He wants to do this even less now knowing that Harrington will be sitting next to him as he tries not to shit his pants. The last thing he wants is the King of Hawkins High to go around sharing that with everyone.

“Dude, are you getting in or not?” The guy asks when Eddie just stands there, an annoyed tilt to his voice. 

Eddie glances over his shoulder to find Gareth and Jeff giving him two thumbs up, matching smirks on their faces. He flips them off, ignoring the scandalized gasp from a mother waiting in line with her son. 

Then he glances back at the car- at Harrington, who is staring at him with an impatient bitchy look. The King probably isn’t happy about sharing a Ferris Wheel car with the Freak.

Yeah, well, the feeling is fucking mutual. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going in,” Eddie says anyway, sliding into his seat. He does his best to ignore Harrington as the guy lowers the safety bar on their laps- as well as the dread that has settled on his belly. 

It only grows as they start moving. 

“Enjoy your ride,” the guy tells them with fake cheerfulness. 

Eddie fights the urge to flip him off too. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, grabbing the safety bar with a death grip as their car starts to rise. They keep rocking back and forth and Eddie’s stomach falls out of his ass every time. “Fuck me.” 

Next to him, Harrington lets out a snort. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson.”

Eddie snaps his head towards him- Harrington is leaning back against his seat with a smirk, seemingly not caring at all about the fact that they’re about to be thirty feet from the ground. Asshole.

“Hardy-har-har, Harrington,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying not to let his voice waver.

As far as comebacks go, it’s a lame one and Harrington must notice. “Geez, man. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine.” 

Harrington glances down at Eddie’s hands on the safety bar with a pointed look. “Really? Because you look like you’re trying to snap that bar in half.”

Eddie glances down and sees that he’s white-knuckling the safety bar. He loosens his hold a little. “I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Mind your own business, Your Majesty.” 

“Christ, Munson, what’s your problem?” Harrington huffs out a sound halfway between a grunt and a laugh. “And don’t call me that. You don’t hear me calling you Freak.”

To Eddie, they’re not the same. He thought someone like Harrington would enjoy being reminded about his popular status in high school- even if Eddie’s tone is mocking. But it seems the whole King thing struck a nerve.

“My problem is-” Eddie starts, meaning to tell Harrington that it’s him even if Eddie hasn’t had a problem with him in particular since he graduated but then their car jerks and his words trail off into a whimper. 

“This fucking deathtrap, shit. Okay, I’m not fine,” he admits, eyes screwed shut as they reach the top. “I'm like terrified of heights, okay? Which is fucking lame and super unmetal of me so go ahead, laugh it up.”

He waits to hear it- Harrington’s laugh but there’s only silence. 

Eddie peeks at him through one eye.

“I’m not gonna do that,” Harrington says, his eyebrows knitted in a way that’s frankly kinda cute. 

Cute? Jesus Christ, Eddie, not the time.

“Why not?” He asks. “It’s what you jocks do.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t been a jock for a while, man.”

Eddie guesses that’s true. Even before he graduated, Harrington had stopped being a jock under Eddie’s definition of the word. He still played basketball, but he didn’t pick on Eddie or the other nerds and now he’s not laughing at him for being afraid of heights even though if the roles were reversed Eddie would probably get a few laughs in himself. 

Maybe he should cut Harrington some slack.

“Why are you riding the Ferris Wheel anyway?” He asks after a short silence. “If you don’t like heights?” 

Another mind your own business rests at the tip of Eddie’s tongue but he did just say he’d cut him some slack. Besides, Eddie is slowly realizing that talking to Harrington is helping keep him distracted from where they are right now. 

“Well, my friends think I’m scared-”

“You are,” Harrington interjects with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” Eddie accepts with an eye roll even if he feels his mouth tick up. “But they don’t need to know that, I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“With your friends?”

“With my friends, the school.” Eddie clicks his tongue. “ Society.”

Harrington snorts out a startled sort of chuckle, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Well, I won’t tell society,” he says with a conspiratorial smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 

He bumps their shoulders together and it makes the car tip forward. Eddie bites down on a very embarrassing scream. Harrington grimaces. “Shit, sorry.” 

“Why are you- why are you riding the Ferris Wheel?” Eddie asks. “You can’t possibly enjoy this, man.”

“It’s not so bad,” Harrington shrugs. “I like the view, especially at sunset.”

“Ah,” Eddie smiles teasingly. “I bet you bring all the pretty girls up here, hold their hand if they get scared.” 

Harrington raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you suggesting I hold your hand, Munson?” 

Is he? Eddie looks down at Steve’s hands. They’re nice hands and Eddie has to admit that the thought of holding one of them right now doesn’t exactly make him want to jump off this car. 

It makes his heat build in his cheeks actually. “Fuck off, no, I’m-” 

“Because I would,” Harrington interjects, “if you wanted me to.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I- uh. You- no, you wouldn’t.” 

Harrington tilts his head, watching Eddie with a mixture of amusement and something else. If Eddie didn’t know any better he’d say Harrington finds it endearing- how nervous Eddie is. What the hot fuck?

Harrington holds out his hand, palm up, in the space between them. 

Eddie can only stare at it like it’s going to bite him or like Harrington is going to jerk it back and laugh at him for falling for the joke. He does neither. He wiggles his fingers and Eddie, who might be oxygen-deprived from the height, lets go of the bar with one hand, wipes it on his jeans, and grabs Harrington’s. 

He links their fingers together loosely and gives Eddie a little half-smirk, half-smile that he bets left a girl or two giggling back in the day. Right now it makes Eddie’s heart stutter in a wildly different way than being this far from the ground does. 

The ground, which is currently far, far away. Shit. The reminder makes him grip Harrington’s hand tighter and it’s really nice- warm and soft instead of cold and hard like the safety bar. Eddie looks down at their joined hands, and focuses on that- on how big Steve’s hand is and how many freckles are dusted over the back of it, how he doesn’t seem to mind that Eddie’s rings are probably digging painfully into his skin with how hard he’s holding on to him. 

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits with a shaky laugh. “Um, thanks, man, for not laughing and like, not being a dick about this.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to be less of a dick these days.”

“And how’s that working out for ya?” 

Harrington’s nose scrunches up. “I’m alone at the Ferris Wheel, Eddie, so what do you think?” 

Eddie chuckles. “Oh, so what am I? Chopped liver?”

“No!” Harrington counters quickly. “Just not who I thought I’d end up riding the Ferris Wheel with.”

“Oh how you wound me, Steve,” Eddie says with an exaggerated pout. 

“Shut up, you’re the one who’s wounding me,” he says playfully, using his free hand to gesture at where his other one is still trapped by Eddie’s. “Think you’re cutting off circulation to my hand.” 

Eddie loosens his hold a little, his cheeks pinking up again. “Fuck, sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Steve says, giving it a squeeze. “Robin and I went to see this gross movie once called The Thing and I’m pretty sure I almost lost all my fingers from how hard she was gripping my hand.” 

Eddie blinks. “Robin Buckley? From band?” He asks and Steve nods. “I didn’t know you two were friends or is it- are you two like-” 

Jesus, why do you even care, Munson? Talk about minding your own business. 

“Oh no,” Steve replies even if Eddie didn’t finish the question. “I love Robin, but she’s just my friend. My best friend. It’s tectonic.” 

Eddie tilts his head. “Do- do you mean platonic?” 

“Yeah, that,” Steve says, snapping his fingers and shooting a single finger gun in his direction. “She’s actually down there somewhere with- um, with someone else.” 

“Oh, Steve,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “You’re third-wheeling your band nerd best friend? How the mighty have fallen truly.” 

Steve groans, throwing his head back but not before Eddie sees how his mouth twitches. “It gets worse, dude. I’m also here babysitting a bunch of fourteen-year-olds who are also nerds. Except for Max, she’s cool, she doesn’t play that- dorks and dweebs game the others are obsessed with.”

“Hold on, I’m sorry, do you mean Dungeons and Dragons?” Eddie sputters, trying to wrap his head around everything he’s learning about Steve- horror movie enjoyer, nerd-sympathizer, a babysitter who sort of knows what Dungeons and Dragons is.

Steve purses his lips. “I think I like my name better.”

“Sure, buddy,” Eddie says with a snort. “Well, I’m sorry to inform you that I run an after-school club for that game so by hanging out with me your cool-o-meter just took an even bigger nose dive.”

“Well, goddamn it, Munson,” Steve says jokingly. 

“Bet you wish you got stuck with a pretty girl instead of me, huh, big boy?”

Steve falters at the name that truth be told slipped out of Eddie’s mouth without him realizing. A slight pink tinge shades his cheeks.

It’s nothing compared to the deep shade of red Eddie’s cheeks turn when Steve says, “Actually being stuck with a pretty boy is fine by me.”

A nearly hysterical laugh rushes from Eddie’s lips before he can help it. “A pretty- uh. What?” His heart is doing summersaults in his chest and Eddie tries hard to get it to calm down. Steve could be fucking with him. Fuck, is he? “Are you- Steve. Harrington. Are you fucking with me? ‘Cause you might’ve graduated and you might not be a jock anymore but I know you know what your teammates called me, man, you know I’m- and you fucking with me like that is not cool-”

“Woah, Eddie, hey. I’m not,” Steve assures him, pretty brown eyes wide like a startled deer. “It’s true, okay? You are pretty.”

Oh. 

An ugly strangled noise escapes Eddie. “Oh. Okay. Uh.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and shifts nervously in the seat. “Fuck, just forget I said that, I didn’t want to make things weird, okay? Just- yeah, forget it.”

“Who says I want to?” 

Steve’s eyebrows meet in the middle. Cute, Eddie thinks again. Oh, maybe it was the time after all. “Um, your face, man? You look like I splashed you with water and then threw a toaster at you or something.” 

“That’s- that’s actually a good way to describe how I feel, yeah,” Eddie agrees. Steve cringes slightly. “Not in a bad way! I’m just surprised! I didn’t know you-” liked boys? liked freaks? liked me?

Whatever he means, Steve gets it. “Yeah, I do,” he says, the tips of his ears turning pink. “It’s fine if you don’t or whatever-”

Eddie opens his mouth to assure him he does in fact like boys and freaks and Steve who might be a freak himself if this Ferris Wheel ride has taught Eddie anything-

Before he can though the Ferris Wheel screeches to a halt, their car rocking in place at the top. 

“Why- why are we stopping? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “It’s the last spin, they’re probably gonna stop each cart at the top for a few minutes.”

Eddie whines pathetically. “What? Why?”

“So people can watch the sunset? Make out?” Steve blushes. “Or something.”

The wind picks up and makes the car rock back and forth and Eddie groans. “Fucking great!”

“Hey, what do you need?” Steve asks, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. It’s almost enough to distract him from being stuck at the top. Almost. 

“To be back on solid ground? Or a distraction. Please distract me, Stevie,” Eddie says, feeling panic bubbling up inside him. He doesn’t even notice when the nickname slips out. 

Steve’s eyes flick over his face looking for something. He either finds it or gives up. Either way, he takes a deep breath. “Please don’t punch me for this.” 

“Punch you for-”

The last word dies in Eddie’s throat because Steve leans in and presses a kiss to his mouth, effectively shutting him up.

For a beat, neither of them does anything. Then Steve’s free hand cups Eddie’s cheek and he moves his lips. Eddie makes a soft, needy noise in the back of his throat, his eyelids fluttering shut, and then he’s kissing Steve back. 

It’s a slow and lazy kiss but it’s enough to make Eddie forget where he is or that he’s supposed to be panicking. He even lets go of the safety bar just so he can get his fingers in Steve’s hair. 

They don’t break apart until the Ferris Wheel starts moving again, their car making its way down so they can finally get off this stupid thing. 

(Though it might be starting to grow on Eddie. Just a little.)

When they stop again so that the people in the next car can have their go at the top, Eddie’s stomach merely swoops and it might have more to do with the way Steve licks his pink, wet lips than with anything else. 

“Well, that’s one way to distract someone,” Eddie says, his voice coming out a little breathless. “Thanks, Stevie.”

Steve snorts, hanging a hand from his neck. “Thanks for not punching me.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter, baby,” Eddie says and watches delightedly how a flush creeps up Steve’s cheeks at the pet name. “I’d never punch you, your face is too pretty for that.”

A startled laugh tumbles from Steve’s lips. “So I could kiss you again?”

“I could be persuaded to do that again, yeah.” Eddie tilts his head, eyes darting a little anxiously over Steve’s face. “First I gotta know if this is like a ‘what happens in the Ferris Wheel stays in the Ferris Wheel’ kind of thing, you know?”

“Nah,” Steve says with a smile that edges on soft. “I was actually gonna drag you with me to the Hoop Shot game after this. Impress you a little.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks, grinning widely. “Gonna impress me with your jock moves?”

“Mhm. By winning you a stuffed animal too.”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, I told you, I have a reputation to uphold-”

“With society, yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll get you something metal like a bat! Or a dragon.”

“Hm,” Eddie taps his finger against his chin. “Get me both and it’s a deal!”

Steve’s eyes twinkle. “Does that mean I get two kisses?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie says, pitching his voice low and deep. Steve’s eyes widen slightly. “You can have way more than that.” 

They’re almost at the bottom now which is probably why Steve doesn’t lean in for another kiss right then and there when it’s clear that he wants to. This close to the ground, people could see and the last thing they want is an angry mob waiting for them at the bottom. 

They’re happy to just hold hands for what’s left of the ride. Despite Eddie not being scared anymore, neither of them considers letting go, not until the guy from before yanks the safety bar off their laps, stares curiously at their clasped hands for a second before his expression turns bored again, and waves them out of the car. 

Eddie climbs out and jogs down the steps, past the people waiting in line. His eyes dart over the people hanging around the Ferris Wheel, looking for Gareth and Jeff but his friends must’ve gotten bored and wandered off at some point because they’re nowhere to be seen. Whatever, he was gonna ditch them to hang out with Steve anyway. 

But Steve gets the wrong idea when he sees Eddie scanning the crowd. He scruffs his Nike against the ground and hangs a hand from his neck. “It’s okay if you wanna find your friends-”

“Fuck, no,” Eddie says quickly. “They’re big boys, they can get home on their own. Or not and it serves them right for forcing me to go on that deathtrap!”

“Oh, come on,” Steve says with a playful grin. 

“Fine, I guess it wasn’t that bad,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, the corners of his mouth ticking up. “What about you? You don’t have to find your baby nerds and make sure they’re okay?”

“Nope, those shitheads can take care of themselves,” Steve says. “I have more important things to do.”

“Like me?” Eddie asks with a ridiculous waggle of his eyebrows. It makes Steve tip his head back with a laugh. Eddie’s eyes zero in on the moles in the column on his neck, thoughts drifting to wanting to kiss every single one of them. 

“Maybe later,” he tells Eddie with a wink. His stomach swoops and this time it has nothing to do with gravity and heights. “C’mon, man, let’s get you that bat.”

Eddie holds his finger up, wagging it in front of Steve’s face. “And the dragon!” Eddie says, getting all up in Steve’s space as he starts walking in the direction of the Hoop Shot game. “Don’t forget the dragon!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Munson.”

(Steve gets him the bat. And the dragon. And cotton candy. And later follows Eddie home after dropping off his herd of fourteen-year-olds. Eddie lets him have two kisses and more just like he promised.)

(And he rides more than just the Ferris Wheel that day.)

[steddie-island]

Champagne kisses

@softsteddieseptember week 3: Anniversary Rating: G | WC: 1,406 | Tags: Getting together, first kiss, Eddie Munson lives Find full list of tags on ao3 | Divider credit

Eddie woke to the sound of pebbles hitting his window. He looked around for his watch to check the time, then carefully climbed out of bed.

He'd expected to see Dustin, or Mike, or even Max, one of the shitheads. He hadn't expected Steve on the other side, with a palmful of gravel— a piece of which narrowly missed hitting Eddie as he opened the window.

"Steve, what the fuck?" Eddie's nose wrinkled and he looked at the other boy with one eye cracked open. "You have a key, you couldn't just let yourself in?"

"I was hoping you'd come out, actually." Steve bounced his hand, letting the rocks drop back to the ground around his feet. "I've got a surprise for you."

"A surprise, huh? And it couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Eddie heaved a put-upon sigh, his head tipping back and his gaze catching the swirls of paint on his ceiling. "All right. Let me grab my shoes."

Steve grinned and watched as Eddie disappeared back into the darkness of his bedroom.

Eddie climbed out the window and dropped carefully to his feet. It pulled his scars, made his joints complain, made Steve curse and step forward to help him. He held his hands out with both thumbs up to show he was okay before tugging his leather jacket on. "This better be good, Harrington."

Steve just grinned and jogged to his car to grab a black totebag. "It will be. I hope you brought your keys, Munson."

Eddie was dying to know what was in the bag, what couldn't have waited, but found that he was willing to be a little patient if Steve kept smiling the way he was. He followed after Steve to unlock the van, and a few moments later they were bumping their way down the road in Eddie's new used van.

The quarry stretched out before them. Eddie smoked a cigarette while he watched the place where the stars and the ground met. Even if he hadn't been threatened with loss of life and limb if he'd tried to watch what Steve was doing with the black bag behind him, the horizon was where his eyes would've strayed to anyway.

There were a million possibilities in that horizon. He could point the van and just drive until he ran out of gas, start over as whoever and whatever he wanted to be. It made him feel small, insignificant, but not in a way that made him feel bad. It was comforting, knowing that there were stil places he could go where people wouldn't think of dead teenagers as soon as they heard his name. He just had to get up and do it.

And he would. Someday. Eventually.

Still, as beautiful and comforting as the horizon was, the sound of paper, of a tape dispenser, the crinkling of plastic, it was definitely harder than usual to keep his eyes locked there and not behind him.

"C'mon, Harrington. How much longer is this gonna take?"

"I'm almost finished— Eddie I told you, do not turn around!" Steve said. "I tried to do this before I woke you up but your van was locked. Now just— be patient."

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he tossed the cigarette butt to the ground and stubbed it out with the toe of his sneaker.

There was the flicking of a lighter that washed the van in Eddie's peripheral vision a soft orange color. "Okay, look."

Eddie turned around with a smartass remark ready, but it died on his tongue.

There were streamers taped to the walls of the van, and there were plastic champagne flutes sitting next to a cake that had something nearly illeligable written on it. And there was Steve, smiling almost shyly as he picked the cake up, showing the candles he'd lit around one edge of the cake. Candlelight flickered over his face, danced in his eyes, and Eddie felt his breath catch in his chest.

"Happy… what?" he asked, when he managed to talk again.

"Anniversary," Steve said, flushing. "Sorry, it said happy birthday and I had to wipe that off, but then I had a hard time trying to write over it. But— you should blow the candles out before your cake gets coated in wax."

Eddie leaned in and blew the candles out, turning the van dark again. "Hold on." He dug in the crate he'd learned to keep full of shit that would come in handy in an emergency and came away with an "A-ha!" before turning the little lantern on. It filled the van with gentle orange light again. It didn't dance the way the candlelight had, but Eddie was still struck once more by how beautiful Steve was.

It didn't last for long, because it occurred to him that he wasn't sure what exactly they were celebrating.

"So… what… anniversary is this?" he asked.

Steve huffed out a laugh and passed over a plastic fork. "You don't remember?"

"Shit, no. I'm not good with— any of those things." Eddie ran a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, man, it's— I'll try to remember next time."

"Eddie, it's okay. It's… it's your anniversary." Steve picked wax drips off of the cake, avoiding Eddie's eyes. "You woke up a year ago today."

Eddie was quiet for a long moment. He could only watch Steve, until he noticed more pink flood into Steve's cheeks as the other boy looked up at him again. "I did?" he asked finally. "You… you remember?"

"They thought you might never wake up," Steve said, shaking his head. "Jesus, man. I spent so long at your bedside. We— we all did, just… begging you to wake up. Then… you did." He flicked a piece of wax onto the store bag he'd pulled the cake out of. "Of course I remember." He shrugged one shoulder, and Eddie all but heard the, "how could I not?" that he didn't say out loud.

Of course Steve had remembered. Steve, who had spent so many hours, so many days sitting beside Eddie's bed. Eddie didn't remember any of it, but he did remember the first face he saw when he woke up. He remembered Steve, slumped down in the uncomfortable hospital chair, his legs hanging over the arm of it. He'd been dozing lightly, at at the smallest movement from Eddie he'd been up and beside Eddie's bed, grabbing his hand and ringing for the nurses.

Steve's relief had been palpable. He'd looked the way Eddie had felt. He still looked that way sometimes, when Eddie caught him not watching whatever movie they had on. It was like Steve could hardly believe that Eddie was there, like he might've been lost if Eddie hadn't survived.

Eddie watched the way the lamplight played on Steve's face, casting part of it in shadow. Somehow he hadn't just survived, but he'd found this beautiful boy who liked spending time with him, who listened to him talk about D&D and music. Steve remembered, too— or tried to. After all of the thumps to the head, some of the details slipped away sometimes. But Eddie could see how hard he tried.

Steve made Eddie want to try, too. Made Eddie want to learn about sports even after all the shit he'd said about them in high school, just so he could chime in when Steve and Wayne were watching the game together. He liked the way Steve smiled when he noticed Eddie listening to him, too. He wanted Steve to always smile like that.

He wanted to be the one to make Steve smile like that.

Not for the first time, Eddie found himself wanting to kiss Steve Harrington.

Only this time, for the first time, he actually did.

Their first kiss tasted like chocolate cake and champagne and Eddie never wanted it to end. Even so, it didn't last long.

When Steve pulled back he looked surprised, but he was smiling. "What was that for?"

"Something else for us to remember when this rolls around again next year," Eddie said.

Steve's smile softened, and Eddie felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. "I like the sound of that," he said. "Maybe we should keep practicing, to have something even better to remember next year."

Eddie laughed, but when Steve leaned in again, he was happy to meet in the middle.

[scoops-aboy86]

Southern Hospitality

Prompt Used: aftercare (@steddiesmuttyseptember) and and fluff (@softsteddieseptember) | Southern Hospitality | Rating: M | CW: weight gain, belly kink, stuffing kink, belly play | Additional Tags: chubby steve harrington, fat steve harrington, feeder eddie munson, alcohol, referenced spanking, masturbation, food as a love language, hedonism, steve harrington has bad parents, brief nancy being tactless

Steve’s parents make an implied appearance here, but not enough to fully tag for. He probably shouldn’t have driven home but no way was he staying overnight with them, so sorry for the suggested driving home intoxicated. 

The fluff is in how Steve feels instantly better when he gets home, even though Eddie is asleep. 🥰 

Also this was first inspired by an ask that I’ll post in a minute and link here. Thank you September challenges for giving me the kick to work on this again!

It’s not that Steve didn’t know Eddie knew how to cook before they’d moved in together. He just hadn’t realized the sheer scale—or he’d thought Eddie didn’t realize, at first. That the whole “It’s bad luck to have leftovers, Stevie” was a smooth redirect to encouraging him to enjoy more, savor everything, again and again. Eddie is phenomenal in the kitchen so it’s not like it’s a hardship or anything. 

Maybe it’s a little bit that Steve is still smarting from Robin moving clear across the world for school, abandoning him. Far be it from him to actually voice any of those feelings… He’d just thought they were forever, you know? Platonic soulmates, attached at the hip for life. A bond that even some super cool P.h.D program in Europe couldn’t come between. She’d never asked him to come along, not even as a joke. But he’s not… He wouldn’t say that he’s hurt, it’s not her fault that he has a life and a boyfriend here tying him down. He just misses her like a lost limb is all. 

Maybe it’s because when Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle had swung through Indy for a visit, and Nancy had eyed him up and down saying, “You’ve, um, grown!” Which Jonathan had elbowed her for, and Eddie hadn’t even heard because he’d been in the other room getting everybody drinks. Argyle might not have even been paying attention because he’d immediately asked if anyone wanted some Purple Palm Tree Delight—which, to be fair, had soothed Steve’s ruffled feathers immensely. He might’ve better if Robin had been there too,  agreeing wordlessly with him that sure, maybe he has put on some weight, but that’s because he’s finally able to sleep through the night again and can stomach three homemade meals a day instead of being hung up on Upside Down trauma all the time. The trusty old nailbat that used to live in the trunk of his car, or sometimes under his bed, has been retired to a cobwebby corner of the garage. Why can’t Nancy just be glad for how far he’s come?

(She is, Steve knows. It was just a blip, though a prime example of why they probably wouldn’t have worked out even without all the Upside Down crap. And Nancy hadn’t apologized—for that, or anything else really but that’s water under the bridge—but she’d at least let it go. Which is a lot, for Nancy Wheeler, Investigative Journalist.)

Anyway, that had just been one night. One night, when every day Steve has Eddie. Wonderful Eddie who always kisses him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Who makes him breakfast, lunch, and dinner so he doesn’t have to worry about it, and doesn’t shy away from the unhealthy but delicious side of Southern cuisine. They have chicken and waffles once a week, with Steve absolutely soaking his in syrup. And the desserts—holy fucking christ, Eddie has so many recipes and they’re all stored seemingly endlessly in his brain, every one of them a winner. 

Whatever the reason, either the little stings or the healing balm of things going wonderfully in his relationship, Steve hasn’t bothered to note the signs. Overall, everything is fine. Why worry about anything when he’s so happy?

The sex they have after especially heavy meals have become Steve’s favorite; the kind where he’s left so full he almost doesn’t want to, could just as easily take a nap instead, but Eddie takes the time to tease him until he’s squirming, whining for it. Sometimes Steve plays up his reluctance a bit just to stretch things out even further, the thrum of anticipation in his veins and taste of good food and Eddie on his tongue. Sometimes he could swear that Eddie has extra hands because of the way he’s so comprehensively everywhere—buoying him up, holding him down, introducing him to pleasure after pleasure until Steve is spilling over with it and yet somehow Eddie still catches him, all of him. 

Though it’s funny… for someone who thinks leftovers are bad luck, Eddie always seems to prepare way too much food for two people. Steve has never been one to turn down a home cooked meal when he can get it so he always gamely does his best. It’s not like Eddie ever makes a big deal if he can’t finish, just sympathetically rubs his overtaxed stomach whenever he admits to being too full. 

And willingly hands him anything he changes his mind about if the rubbing soothes his burbling tummy enough. 

So yeah. Steve knows he’s gained some weight, but it doesn’t bother him. He’s happy, he’s healthy, and putting a relative value on his waistline would just be an exercise in manufacturing stress. He’s had enough of that shit to last a lifetime. 

The denial about just how much weight he’s gained lasts right up until a particularly long evening at his parents’ house. It’s one of those ‘social gathering’ things they like to do, basically a dinner party without calling it that. Steve only goes because there’s one last matter of his inheritance that he needs to clear up with his dad before he can basically cut ties with them indefinitely; he’s not there for the collection of eligible young ladies his mother has invited for the occasion, after all, and hadn’t even bothered passing along the half-hearted invitation to bring his ‘roommate’ along. Eddie hates these things almost as much as Steve, and has an early shift at the garage tomorrow anyway. 

The food is crap. He doesn’t bother telling his mom to fire the caterer, just drinks too much and goes home hungry despite making quick work of quite a few trays just for something to do between his lines in the mind-numbing small talk. Thinks he might’ve been rude to some of those poor girls whose only real fault was not being Eddie, but, oh well. At least now they won’t try to call. 

On the drive back to his and Eddie’s apartment, he cranks the windows and leaves them open the whole way in an attempt to sober up. It kind of works. 

~

Steve finally gets home around three in the morning, shuffling into the apartment, stripping out of his stupid formal clothes piece by piece and step by step as soon as the door shuts behind him. It’s expensive fabric, and it’ll wrinkle being thrown around like that—he doesn’t care. Had distantly registered hours ago that the suit was a little tight, even though he could’ve sworn the tailor at the dry cleaners had taken it out enough just last week. But, again, Steve doesn’t care. He’s distracted. 

His stomach is growling. He's down to nothing but his briefs and socks and he needs real food, not puff pastry appetizers with more air than filling or weird under-seasoned crap piled onto limp endives. Eddie is long asleep, but if he’s quiet…

Yes, jackpot. Steve leans into the glow spilling out the refrigerator door, scanning hungrily over the stacked Tupperware containers labeled with Eddie’s swooping, spidery handwriting and grins. Bad luck my ass. This is the best thing that’s happened to him all night. 

The only thing he bothers to put in the microwave is the gravy boat. Eddie’s gravy is so good hot he could literally drink it—can and has and will again—but the rest is good regardless of temperature. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself as he pulls a stack of containers out and starts popping lids. Pancakes and bacon and breakfast sausages from that morning, too eager to bother finding a fork and instead just popping each bite straight into his mouth with his fingers. Chicken salad from lunch, which he piles up between hefty slices of homemade bread and eats with one hand while fisting a beer in the other, eager to wash the taste of offensively expensive whiskey from the back of his tongue. Bite, swig, bite, swig, bite, swig… until he finishes the can with a muffled belch, crams the last bit of sandwich in his mouth, and sets himself back up with another of both. He can’t help it, Eddie’s food is so good, almost an acceptable substitute for the man’s presence. 

Almost. But Steve doesn’t want to wake him when he has an early day, so he’ll take what he can get. 

The microwave beeps, and the chicken salad is all gone so Steve redirects himself to fried chicken and gravy. Still not bothering with silverware, he dunks each piece straight into the boat and keeps having to lap up the gravy that drips down his fingers, his wrists, his arms. Wipes it from his face with the back of his hand and licks that up too with a little moan. Another beer, another few belches, and he has plenty of room left to empty the entire large container out. So fucking good—his tastebuds tingling, he barely takes the time to breathe between shoving more greedily past his lips. Steve loves leftovers actually, because they’re like bonus food. You don’t have to order it, or make it, or do anything other than get and eat. It’s perfect. Maybe that’s why Eddie always makes sure they have some after all, because he knows how much his sweetheart enjoys the extras at times like this. Eddie takes such good care of him…

Such good care, in fact, that behind all the Tupperware there is a pristine and exquisitely frosted cake. German chocolate, Steve’s favorite. His mouth waters, but. He’s not quite ready for dessert. 

First, he guzzles down the last of the gravy. It goes down thick and heavy, leaving him panting when he finishes and pleasantly aware of that heaviness in his stomach. The perfect antidote to a stuffy evening surrounded by pretentious assholes, he thinks, already feeling warm and hazy with the comfort of being full. And right back to the far side of tipsy now. 

Now it’s time for cake. He really doesn’t intend to eat the whole thing… He’s finally starting to approach his limit, for one thing. It’s better, easier to eat dressed down like this, because any of his pants would be digging into his middle by now. That happens enough lately that he’s kind of getting used to it, kind of uses it to gauge whether he should stop—but tonight he has no desire to even touch the brakes, not now that he’s gotten going. Not when it’s a delicious overload in all the best ways, even down to the smears of achingly sweet frosting and perfectly moist chocolate cake around his mouth as he works his way through slice after slice. 

Halfway through (not that he’s keeping track), he pauses to get the milk out of the fridge too. Instead of pouring a glass he puts the cardboard spout to his messy lips and pours it straight down his throat in sloppy gulps, desperate to wash it all down so he can fit more. More, because it’s all so good and his full stomach feels good and this has been practically all he could think about all through that stupid party that wasn’t called a party and celebrated nothing. None of those people know how to fucking live. 

And yeah, Steve is also vaguely aware that his belly juts out and sags over the waistband of his briefs, pushing them down in front. He knows he’s reaching the point of overfull where he has to stand differently, big round gut moving as a unit with every breath because it’s packed so tight. He leans back against the counter and finds it bumping into the softness of his back sooner than he expected. His entire midsection hangs, and he keeps absently touching it, smearing chocolate where it juts out at top as he tries to coax more burps out. He’s hit that wall where it’s kind of a slog to keep going, an endeavor, a challenge; he keeps going. Ironically, following the same competitive urges that had made him a decently successful high school athlete. 

Because he’s hungry all the time now, even when he’s full. Doesn’t give it too much thought that his belly has taken over for his brain: there’s food, he wants it, he’s eating it. Loves the flavors and textures, the act of chewing and swallowing, having something in his mouth at any opportunity. 

And then, finally, he reaches for more cake and finds only crumbs and frosting that he scrapes off the platter with still-greedy fingers. Grabs the partly empty milk container, a whole goddamn gallon, and goes to work gulping it down. Feels it settling into the last of the gaps and his tired knees go weak; he slides down the kitchen cabinets to plop heavily on the floor while he finishes. 

Or, almost. There’s still maybe a cup or so left when he finally throws in the towel, because he can taste it in the back of his throat with every strained swallow. 

Steve’s head lolls back, finally sated and bloated from all that dairy, his skin hot and stretched and thrumbing. He gingerly feels over the top of his belly and it’s tight, no give at all. But the rest of him…

Okay. Maybe he’s put on more than just a little weight. His belly rounds out before him so far that he can’t see his own lap, and as firm as it is on top it’s soft on the bottom, teardropping between his meaty thighs to kiss the cool linoleum floor. He slips a hand underneath and lifts, testing; drags his palm over the more-than-just-a-spare-tire spilling over his underwear and bulging out over the sides until his hand passes the widest point and it drops free with a jiggle that affects almost every part of him. Gives it a slap, to more jiggles and a bitten-off groan because it jars his stomach, but not in a bad way. Like when Eddie spanks him, something Steve sometimes has to go out of his way being bratty in order to earn, and there’s pain but following it is a warm rush that makes his jaw drop and cock twitch. 

Like it’s doing now, and Steve realizes suddenly that he can’t reach it. His big, wide, doughy belly is in the way, too stuffed for him to comfortably manhandle out of the way. Too heavy to lug his weight off the floor. Too glutted to care, even as he rocks into the hang of his own fat, pressing wherever he finds provides a little extra pressure against his weak grinding. The fabric of his briefs, he realizes, is wet through with how much he’s leaking, as if his full stomach is pressing directly on the pleasure centers of his brain, a satisfaction so complete that it’s already got him halfway to the edge. 

And that’s how Eddie finds him, smeared with the evidence of his late-night-early-morning snack and breathing so heavily he’s practically moaning. Lazily humping his fat—because he is, Steve’s gotten fat and it feels so fucking good. He’d ignored all the signs because he hadn’t wanted to slow down. Still doesn’t want to, not ever. Indulging feels too amazing. 

Eddie finds him just in time to catch the finale, all of Steve shaking and quivering as he reaches his peak. Comes so hard in his briefs that it seeps between his thighs where they try to rub together on one final, savoring squirm. Bows forward a bit, but hiccups weakly between shallow gasps and sags back against the cabinets when it puts too much pressure on his distended gut. Heaving to catch his breath, blasted out of his mind on pleasure, floating but so decadently heavy at the same time. 

When Eddie comes to him, kneeling down and cupping his pudgy, chocolate-smeared cheek in one hand, Steve can’t even process what he’s saying. It’s like the adults in Charlie Brown, all wah-wah-wah or whatever. Instead of trying to make sense of it, he turns his head slightly and mouths at his boyfriend’s thumb. He sucks the whole thing into his mouth as soon as Eddie lets him and immediately wants more. 

He always wants more these days. It’s like he can’t stop. Even though he knows Eddie has work in the morning and should be sleeping, feels kinda bad that he must have woken him up, he’s by no means disappointed to see the man. 

“N-need you,” he manages between gasps and hiccups. Each of the latter is like another slap, or maybe a squeeze—something hard and fast, whatever it is, like a spanking but like. An internal one. He’s already twitching, starting to get hard again. 

What he wants is Eddie to fuck him, but there’s no way he’s moving right now. Instead, Eddie pulls himself out of his sweatpants and tucks the front of them behind his balls, lazily fisting his cock at about the level of Steve’s panting mouth. And oh, he thinks, starting to drool a little, even better. He licks his plump lips, groaning at the sweet smears of chocolate that light up his taste buds, then lets his tongue loll out in invitation. 

He’s willing to beg for it if he has to. 

Because Steve has gone beyond wanting—he needs Eddie’s cock. It’s all he can think about as Eddie nudges against his wet tongue, smearing his blushing cockhead until all Steve can taste is  that familiar, musky bitterness. Needs to be filled even more, really unhinge his jaw and let everything Eddie cares to give him go straight down his throat just like all the rest. Whines around him when Eddie finally pushes in properly, sucking and licking and nibbling. Grabbing clumsily for Eddie’s hands so he can move them to dig into his hair. It’s already a mess, just like the rest of him. 

A moaning, quivering, empty-headed mess. 

And it feels so good. 

~

Steve comes back to himself some time later, smacking his lips absently and rubbing both hands over his swollen middle with a pleased sigh when he feels clean, recently lotioned skin. His throat feels rough, but no more sore than his jaw. 

He barely remembers Eddie cleaning him up with a series of warm, damp kitchen towels after they finished, murmuring a steady commentary on how flattering it is that Steve likes his food so much. His underwear’s gone, and the dip of the bed beneath his ass is a lot more forgiving and comfortable than the kitchen floor. Fuck, he must’ve been seriously blissed out to not even remember climbing the stairs like this, so stuffed that he aches. 

Working at the mechanic shop has really been paying off for Eddie to get him upstairs in that state, Steve thinks with a pleasant shudder. 

When he lifts his head, he can’t see over his domed, still quivering belly at all and that—

“How come you didn’t tell me I got fat?” Steve asks, slurs a bit, not sure if it’s because of the alcohol in his system or how wholly, blissfully sated he feels. He rubs hands over himself, grabbing and pawing and even slapping a little, transfixed by the idea of achieving perpetual motion, of leaving a handprint somewhere he can’t even see without the help of a mirror. 

Eddie’s hand joins his, a fingertip circling idly around his navel. Little electric jolts of pleasure roll through Steve whenever his boyfriend’s callouses from years of playing guitar rasp against the rim of his increasingly sunken belly button, nudging him towards another hard-on until he’s squirming from something so simple. 

“You really didn’t know?” Eddie murmurs, sounding amused. 

Steve burps, moans, shrugs. “Mm—sort of. Not really. Don’t care, though. Feels good. Your food is the best, Eds, I could eat it all day.”

A Cheshire grin spreads across Eddie’s face, but all he says is, “Thanks, sweetheart.” He doesn’t need to comment on the fact that Steve often does spend all day eating his cooking. That the excesses have started to paint red stretch marks on Steve’s belly and thighs—some of which Steve has found with his fingertips and is stroking, not concerned but definitely curious. 

“It’s like that new thing Robin keeps telling me about,” Steve continues dreamily. (There’s always a new thing for his best friend to talk his ear about whenever she calls, chattering fast to avoid wrecking complete havoc on their phone bill.) “About love languages? Like, how you show it to other people and how you want to hear it back… I think your love language might be food, baby.”

Because he’d come back from his parents’ house starving, and now he’s so blissfully full of his boyfriend’s cooking he’s had two orgasms about it, lazily contemplating a third. So that sounds about right, as metaphors or whatever go. 

“Making it, sure,” Eddie agrees, still teasing his belly button and eliciting the occasional shiver or gassy burp. “What’s yours?”

Steve grins beatifically and shifts to spread his legs, feeling over the lowest curve of his belly. He’s aware now that he’s had it, that he’s been big for a while; doesn’t know how he hadn’t quite realized before tonight, because the way his own body gives and squishes and springs back as he explores his fatness is electrifying, all-encompassing

Tomorrow he’ll track down a scale and see how much he’s gained. Maybe do some clothes shopping before his next shift, size up his wardrobe as needed. Most likely get more groceries. They’ll definitely talk about this: both Steve’s not so little journey of self-discovery tonight and how on board Eddie already is with it. 

For now, because he doesn’t remember the official love languages Robin had told him about, Steve just says, “Pretty sure mine is eating it and then wanting you to fuck my brains out. I know you have to be up early, but—”

Eddie growls deep in his throat, lunging for the lube in the nightstand drawer before shoving Steve’s thick thighs further apart and planting himself in between—exactly where they both want him. 

Permanent tag list (ask to be added/removed): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[miss-bushido]

sweet surrender is all that I have to give

Week 2 of @softsteddieseptember using the prompt ‘Dreams of the future’

Rating: T

October 31, 1986

Steve glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was 8:40. He had about twenty more minutes before Eddie got home from his job. Eddie had found work at a record store shortly after they moved into their bungalow, and was actually enjoying going to work. There he was able to talk for hours with other like-minded musicians and metal heads: discussing the intricacies of the guitar work on ‘Master of Puppets’ vs ‘Ride the Lightning’, and got into good natured arguments about the fact that ‘Screaming for Vengeance’ was the superior Judas Priest album, no matter how much the customer argued that it was actually ‘British Steel’.

Eddie was happier than Steve had ever remembered seeing him. Having a job he actually wanted instead of one that he had taken only out of necessity certainly helped. Along with the fact that they were no longer living in Hawkins. Funny how moving away from a place where everyone who was openly hostile to you helped your mental health. Steve owed a debt of gratitude to Chief Hopper for getting them in touch with Dr. Owens. Owens had been able to pull all the strings to allow them to both move from Hawkins to a neighborhood just outside of Indianapolis in early September.

Owens had set them up with a 3 bedroom bungalow: it had a fireplace, a garage, a nice yard for gardening. Best of all, it was theirs: Owens had put both Steve and Eddie’s names on the deed to the house, and had bought it outright for them. No one could ever take it away from them.

Steve was emotional over this, but Eddie more so. Steve had always lived at his parent’s home, but Eddie’s home life had been in an upheaval since his Mom died when he was a kid. The most stable home he’d had was living with Wayne, and that was only consistent after his Dad had abandoned him two years ago. He’d cried in Steve’s arms their first night in the house, worried it would be taken away from them. It had taken at least three weeks for the worry to ease, for Eddie to sleep through the night soundly.

They had set up their home pretty quickly with help from their friends and loved ones. The master bedroom was easy enough, as all it required was Eddie and Steve to combine their own bedrooms. One of the other bedrooms was set up for guests, and the third one was an office slash music room for both of them to use. The Wheelers and the Hendersons had gotten them set up with bed and bathroom linens, lamps for the living room, a dining room set of table and chairs, and two dinnerware sets with flatware, cups, plates, and bowls. Chief Hopper and Joyce Byers had combined their money and gotten them a few things for their kitchen: a kettle, two pans, two pots, and basic cooking utensils. Owens had even given them a large area rug, end and coffee tables, two couches, and two armchairs, both of them new.

All of these things meant that they had zero to no worries about money to furnish their house. They could focus on getting settled in their new neighborhood, getting their new jobs, and settling into their domestic life together. In addition to Eddie’s work at the record shop, Steve was working part time as a substitute teacher for the local middle school. He also was a shift supervisor at the local supermarket. His pay was also decent at both places and the extra bit of cash let them start building up their savings.

Before they’d moved to this house, during the midst of their intense romance that had begun in April of that year, they’d talked about future plans. Steve told Eddie that he wanted a future with him. He’d said that he wanted to get him a ring that he deserved. And after two months of looking, he’d finally found one.

He’d found a ring he wanted to use to ask Eddie to marry him.

They couldn’t get legally married. Both of them knew that, but Steve wanted to do something. Even something like getting a ring for the person he wanted to marry. And wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

The fact that Steve wanted to get married at all spoke to how much growth he’d had as a person. Seeing how toxic his parents’ marriage was as he grew up had initially soured him on it. Being with Nancy had changed his mind a little bit, but it wasn’t until his relationship with Eddie started that Steve saw what he wanted for his future.

And exactly who he wanted it with.

He heard the key turning in the lock and stood up as Eddie came in humming. He looked up at Steve and gave him that grin, the dimples on full display. “Hey, baby,” he said, closing the door and putting his keys away. As he walked,he shrugged out of his leather jacket and held up the plastic bag. “I stopped by the grocery store and got us some chocolate. I have to assume the trick or treaters cleaned us out?”

Steve nodded, brushing his hair back from his face as he closed the distance and gave Eddie a soft kiss on the lips. “They did. The Reese’s got decimated, but they left us with a lot of Butterfingers.”

Eddie kissed him back and laughed. “Just as planned.” He liked all candy, but Butterfingers held a special place in Eddie’s heart.

“You were right,” Steve agreed, running a hand through Eddie’s curls and kissing him once more. “Give me the chocolate. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll go get us something to snack on.”

“You’re the best,” Eddie said, kissing Steve, with teeth this time before he reached behind and grabbed his ass. “Don’t be too long. I want to watch ‘Fright Night’.”

“Of course,” Steve agreed, giving Eddie his own ass grab before he took the bag of candy into the kitchen. He set the bag down on the counter and sighed shakily.

He was going to do it. And though he had a feeling he knew what the answer would be, asking the question scared him to death.

A few minutes later, Steve came back into the living room holding a tray laden with the bowl of candy, two unopened beers, and a medium sized jack-o-lantern, with the face turned towards him. He had lit the candle inside but his body blocked the light.

This ended up being a good thing, as Eddie had turned off the main lights in the room, leaving the only light in the room coming from the two jack-o-lanterns, and the glow of the TV. “Very spooky, babe,” he commented, setting the tray down on the table, leaning back against the couch.

“I thought so, too,” Eddie said, eyes flicking to the table. “Is that another jack-o-lantern? Why is it turned away?” He started to reach for it when Steve grabbed his hand.

“Don’t turn it around just yet,” Steve said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. “I wanted to talk with you about something. Something good, I promise.”

Eddie blinked, but didn’t let go of Steve’s hand. “Okay…” he said, scooting closer on the couch.

Steve was silent, licking his lips to try and gather his thoughts. “This time last year, I couldn’t have imagined I’d be where I am now: in my own house, living with a partner I’m absolutely in love with.” He gave Eddie a shy smile. “Watching my parents as I grew up…it was hard to want to have a relationship with anyone. They had to be really special to me. They had to be someone I could be myself around, I could spend all my time with and not get tired of, as mean as that might sound.”

Eddie smirked. “I mean, yeah, it doesn’t sound that good, but I get what you mean.”

Steve nodded. “So, when you and I started dating, it was like everything clicked into place. We didn’t have the best experiences with one another in high school, and then being thrust together like we were in March? Not the best experience there, either. As I’m sure you know.”

Eddie answered by squeezing Steve’s hand, frowning a little. He kept his eyes on Steve, knowing that there was more to whatever Steve had to say to him.

“I’m not really sure when it was, but I was drawn to you, pretty early on. You’re a hard person to ignore. Getting to know you when we went through all of that. And then spending time with you after…That night you came over in April? I’d been thinking about kissing you for a while. And then…we did, and more, and ever since, I’ve felt as though I’ve been having the best dream of my whole life.” He swallowed, feeling emotion beginning to build, but he wanted to get through this.

“I fell for you so hard and so quickly, but it didn’t scare me. Everything with you has felt good, and right. And…well, I feel as though I’ve found the missing part of myself.” He brought Eddie’s hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, not letting go when he set it back down. “You’re who I dream about, the first person I think about when I wake up, and the last person I think about when we fall asleep…and I don’t want to be with anyone else. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”

Eddie’s brown eyes were shiny with unshed tears, and Steve could feel them in his own eyes, so he knew he had to make this next part quickly. He let go of Eddie’s hand to reach over to the jack-o-lantern on the table. As he turned it around, showing that there was no face, but the words MARRY ME carved into it, he asked, “Eddie, will you marry me?”

Eddie let out a sob and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Steve, kissing him hard. “Yes, yes, yes, of course! Of course I’ll marry you!”

Steve was also crying as he returned Eddie’s kisses, pulling him on top of him as he lay on his back on the couch. They were laughing and crying in equal measure, cheeks red with emotion.

“This was so goddamn sweet, Steve,” Eddie said, voice watery as he calmed down.

“Well, thank you,” Steve said, brushing some hair out of Eddie’s face. “I was worried you would think it was corny.”

Eddie giggled. “Some would say it’s a little corny, but I can’t imagine anything better. And on Halloween?! Babe. You’re the best.”

“Oh, I know,” Steve said, smirking a little. “And because I’m the best, I got you this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little grey velvet bag. Eddie took the bag, his lower lip beginning to quiver. “Oh, sweetheart,” Steve said, voice soothing. He re-situated them so that he was sitting up, Eddie straddling him. He opened the bag and pulled out the ring: it was a thick silver band, with a square onyx stone. There were carvings around the stone setting and along the side of the band. As soon as he saw it in the store, he knew it was the right one for Eddie.

“Give me your hand, baby,” Steve said. Eddie put his left hand forward, shaking as Steve slid the ring onto his left ring finger. It was a perfect fit.

“Oh, Steve,” Eddie gasped, putting his right hand over his mouth. “Oh my God I love it so much. I love you so much!”

Steve smiled. “I love you, too, honey.” He was still holding the bag. “You should look in the bag again. There’s something else in there.”

Eddie swallowed, reaching into the bag. His eyebrows went up as he pulled out a similar ring, but with a dark green stone instead of onyx. It was also at least a size bigger, so it could only be for Steve. “Stevie,” Eddie sniffled, a tear sliding down his cheek. He grabbed Steve’s left hand and slid it onto his ring finger.

As soon as Steve’s ring was on, he pulled Eddie in for another kiss, wrapping his arms around his body. “Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I want to make love to you.”

“Yes,” Eddie breathed, kissing him hard. “I want you all night.”

“You’ll have me all night,” Steve promised. “Tonight, and every night after.”

Eddie smiled against Steve’s lips. “I can’t wait.”

[softsteddieseptember]

Event Masterlist

thank you for joining me on this journey. I had fun and it was a success! Love all the softness

Week One:

art by @steddiecameraroll

cheesy pick up lines by @talanashta

come fly with me by @midsummer-semantics

do it for him by @steddie-island

every color illuminates by @miss-bushido

Fear of the unknown by @mugloversonly

full circle by @steveseddie

goodbye/ see you later by @yesdangerpls

your smile is my favorite (wiggly Wednesday) by @scoops-aboy86

Week Two:

home run by @steveseddie

it isn't over, it's just begun by @sidekick-hero

it's about the journey by mugloversonly

sweet surrender is all that I have to give by miss-bushido

Through the pines by steddie-island

Week Three:

art by @alicetallula

Champagne kisses by steddie-island

I would not change it by mugloversonly

make the world safe and sound for you by miss-bushido

southern hospitality by scoops-aboy86

Week Four:

For protection by steveseddie

kiss me, underneath the moonlight by miss-bushido

love is a battle(vest) by steddie-island

promise to see you again by mugloversonly

Week Five:

A Long Time Coming by mugloversonly

Life Finds a Way by steddie-island