#Steve Harrington plays the violin

[just-a-tiny-void]

Pre-steddie prompt:

Eddie is walking through the woods at night l, maybe he’s listening to music or having a walk to clear his head, until he hears this soft mellow music. He takes his headphones off to hear it better, walking towards it he can hear it better, the way it sounds sad, yearning.

After some walking he comes across a clearing. He stops just at the tree line, staying hidden once he spots where the music is coming from.

He can see the former King if Hawkins high, someone that’s supposed to be big and loud, looking soft n small in the moon light. Playing a song that can only be described as lonely and beautiful.

He starts his night walks more often after that. And if he adds a dethroned king with his well loved violin to one of his campaigns then that’s between him and the stars.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.

His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.

She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.

Until he quits.

She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.

She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.

He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.

She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.

He’s a natural.

He takes to it like a duck to water.

She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.

He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.

And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.

He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.

But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.

He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.

Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.

He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.

He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.

He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.

Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”

He gets in.

He goes.

He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.

His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.

In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.

She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.

In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.

Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.

“Sorry, man. Running late.”

Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.

“Harrington? You’re a student here?”

He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.

“Munson? When did you get here?”

“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”

“Violin. You?”

“Guitar and songwriting.”

“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”

Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.

“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”

“What’s it trying to tell us?”

“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Got better plans?”

Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.

“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”

Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.

“I could make dinner. If you want?”

“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”

Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.

“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”

“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”

Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.

But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.

“Sure.”

They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.

Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.

By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.

By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.

Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.

And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.

[lovebugism]

steve finds out reader hasn’t slow danced with a guy before… like maybe she never went to prom with a date and he makes it really sweet for her

when steve finds out you've never slow danced with anybody, he takes it as a challenge (fluff, established relationship, 0.8k)

Languishing on Steve Harrington’s couch, you rest your full weight against his shoulder like you’re trying to melt with him there. You vaguely hear him shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth while you stare unblinking at the black-and-white film playing ahead of you.

“Slow dancing is, like… really weird,” you observe in a quiet murmur, features all twisted in confusion.

“Whaddaya mean?” the boy beside you wonders through his mouthful.

“I don’t know,” you answer with a lazy shrug. “It’s just, like… swaying in place… really awkwardly.”

“It doesn’t have to be awkward.”

You wave your hand at the television across the room, where a couple of Old Hollywood actors dance like both of them’s caught the plague. “Look at that and tell me that’s not awkward!” you argue and turn your chin to look at him. 

Your faces are much closer than you thought. The tip of your nose threatens to brush the chiseled bridge of his. The proximity leaves you wishing it had.

Steve scoffs with a boyish scrunch to his features. “Well, those two have, like, zero chemistry! You gotta slow dance with someone you like, you know? Like, really like,” he explains, gesturing wildly with his hand and jostling you slightly in the process. “Then you got yourself a good time, alright? You’re pressed all close, holding each other’s hands, dancing through the sexual tension—”

“It’s weird,” you insist with a scrunched nose.

“It’s nice!”

“Let’s just agree to disagree,” you shrug.

Steve shakes his wild head and shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Yeah, I can’t do that,” he says, muffled through the food in his cheek.

You snort a quiet laugh in return.

“So you’re saying you’ve never slow danced with someone before?” he wonders with his mouthful, then swallows. “Like, ever?”

Your face scrunches like it’s obvious. “No.”

“Not even at prom?”

“I didn’t have a date at prom!”

“I didn’t either!” he tells you, which you think is only half a lie. Nancy had just broken up with him then — whether he was too heartbroken or too lazy to find another date is still up in the air, really.

Your eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “The entire female class of 1985 was your prom date.”

“I’m just sayin’,” he insists, laughing quietly to himself. “You’re missin’ out here, babe.”

You scoff and reach for the bowl in his lap, stealing a handful of room-temperature popcorn for yourself. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

—————

The sound of vintage violins swells distantly in the otherwise quiet house as the film credits roll. Lit only by the amber stove light, you dump uneaten and unpopped kernels into the trashcan in the kitchen. A record crackles in the room over. A song floats gently on the midnight air.

Everybody loves somebody sometime…

Everybody falls in love somehow…

Your brows furrow when Steve appears in the doorway, rocking his hips back and forth and snapping his fingers to the languid beat. He sings the words quietly to himself, hardly trying but still sounding sort of decent anyway. “Something in your kiss just told me... My sometime… Is now…”

“What are you doing?” you wonder aloud, biting back a chuckle.

“Dancing,” the boy answers.

Your brows furrow as he approaches you — hips still swaying, fingers still snapping. “…By yourself?” you question slowly.

He cages his plush bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head. With wide, warm palms, he smooths his hands over your sides. “Mm-mm,” he hums and squeezes your hips. “With you.”

His touch urges you to sway alongside him, but you tense almost immediately — a virtually immovable force. “No, Steve!” you scold through giggles, shoving him away with a halfhearted hand. “Steve, don’t!”

“C’mon!” he shouts over your protests as his chuckles entwine with your own. “Just dance with me! It’s not gonna kill ya!”

You make a faint grumbly noise of disapproval but don’t fight about it any further. With your face still scrunched in a childlike pout, you let him take one of your hands into his larger one and rest your other against his chest. With a palpable hesitance, you follow his subtle side-to-side movements.

Something in my heart keeps saying…

My someplace is here…

“This is so cheesy,” you giggle to yourself.

“But it’s nice, right?” Steve presses with raised brows. 

Rogue chestnut hairs fall over his forehead, and you fight the urge to push them back. Your nose scrunches in a silent answer, and he laughs. You can feel the golden sound rumble in his chest. 

“You don’t have to say anything… I know you like it.”

You roll your eyes at his smug grin. “Only ‘cause you’re such a good dance partner,” you tease with a knowing squint in your eyes.

His gaze swims with honey as his rosy lips quirk in a lopsided smile. “Don’t make me blush,” he jokes in a quiet murmur, already leaning down to kiss you. 

Steve swallows your laughter with a pink, petaled mouth pressed against your lips — tasting faintly of popcorn, cheap beer, and adoration.

The song crackles quietly through it all.

—And although my dream was overdue…

Your love made it well worth waiting…

For someone like you…

[soupinaboot]

Fuck it. Every Steve Harrington headcannon I have because I've been rotating that boy in my head like a pig on a stick

- Has had glasses since he was young but mostly wore contacts throughout high school due to being bullied in middle school for looking like a nerd

- Plays the piano or the violin, your pick

- In addition to the piano, he mostly plays jazz cause thats my favorite genre and I think it would be his too

- Has ALWAYS had horrible migraines but have since been a lot more difficult to deal with due to you know all that other shit that's been going on

- Does not know popular culture, I know it's very popular within the fandom that he only listences to what's on the radio or watchs only the recent released movies but that boy could barely name a single movie he does NOT know popular shit (this also goes with my jazz headcannon that he mostly just listenes to jazz in the car or at home)

- Surprisingly amazing at chess, no one in the party has managed to beat him

- Horror fan(books,shows,movies,etc)

- His best subject in school was math and I will die on this hill

- Between him and Eddie, he is the black cat

- Bisexual obviously, but a really do like the headcanon that he kinda knew he liked boys when he was younger and doesn't need Robin or Eddie to tell him(he was the one telling Robin that Vickie could like both just saying)

- Also asexual maybe

- Can cook

- SMOKER!!! He smokes in the first season, and in the third he makes a reference to smoking marijuana, he is NOT new to this

- Has really bad bedhead

- I can see him as having some form of OCD or ADHD

I'm forgetting most so be prepared for a part 2

Part 2

[hippielittlemetalhead]

I don't have the time for another fic or snippet or whatever but I had an idea. Drummer!Steve, right? And a common thing I'm seeing in that is that Gareth knows and is the one that taught him or got him started on the basics or told him where to go for gear... But what if... Envision with me...

Steve Harrington played the drums in middle school. He was a dramatic band kid and sports-type hybrid. He's the only drummer his school has and he's really good so administration makes it work with sports things cause sports & arts grants would really help the school and looks good at fundraisers so they need him but other kids think it's special treatment cause the Harrington name. Anywho, Steve is starting 8th grade and administration is in a bit of a tizzy over finding a new drummer for band stuff to replace him after graduating cause no one else wants to pick it up.

Enter Gareth. He's technically one of the flute (or violin Idk which I'd prefer for this) kids but Steve catches him playing around with his set after school one day. Steve convinces the kid to learn how to play drums for the rest of the year and through summer so next year he can try out for band again and take over as drummer. Gareth takes it but doesn't want anyone to know he's getting all buddy-buddy with Harrington cause he JUST got the guys who were in the talent show last year with a metal song to notice him and include him in their little tight-knight group and he WILL NOT let Steve Harrington of all people ruin that for him.

Fast forward a few years and Eddie survived the Upside Down, the rest of Corroded Coffin got read in while helping take care of the aftermath. Everything is okay and good and over now. But Gareth has a kind of fucked up hand. Jason Carver injured it and it never managed to heal quite right in the everything that came after. Thanks to government cover-up medical care there's a way to fix him up but it'll take time and as Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin keeps lamenting, C.C. has gigs to play and demos to record and- and- and- and Gareth asks if Eddie will shut up if he can come up with a replacement drummer.

Eddie and the band are hesitant until Gareth admits it's the guy who taught him to play and the guy is probably still just as good, if not better than him. So they have to promise to not replace him with the guy if he can convince him to help them out. Corroded Coffin swears on Dustin's mother (Claudia Henderson is a goddess amongst mortals and once she got read in put Joyce Byers to shame in her audacity dealing with the government bullshit) to not replace Gareth if he can bring this mystery drummer by next practice.

Gareth lets them into the garage next week for practice telling them his temp will be there any minute. As everyone else is finishing setting up a burgundy BMW pulls up, not unusual cause sometimes Steve will come by practice with snacks and just hang out while killing time between work and dealing with the kids. And the Steve that steps out of the BMW has an armful of food that's probably delicious but Freak notices that the hand that lifts for his signature little finger waggle of a wave has something else in it. He turns to Gareth with a giant grin on his face who turns bright red and grits out for him to not say a word.

"Heya guys, hear you need a drummer?"

Eddie's face falls. "No." He desperately turns to Gareth, "Please tell me this is just another very niche dream of something that will never happen to me in my waking hours." Gareth can't.

And Idk, Jeff and Freak don't quite believe that he's that good cause it's been a few years and Steve plays one of their originals making Eddie practically drool but everyone else is too flabbergasted to give him shit.

And somewhere between practices and Gareth finally letting himself be adopted by Steve (partially cause he is peak older sibling vibes but also it drives Eddie mad the guy he's falling for basically being one of his best friend's older brother. Idfk) Eddie and Steve figure their shit out and start dating. Maybe with a jealous Dustin cause HE adopted Steve first, how dare Gareth come and steal his rightfully shanghaied older sibling/best friend?

That's all I got. Someone take this and go crazy.

[munson-blurbs]

Hi, I'm really interested in your meet-cute idea. This is my first time making a request with my info and also first time writing to you, so I hope it makes sense🤗I'd choose Steve (Because your Steve fics are awesome), and my pronouns are she/her. About me, I'd probably be one of the shyest and most awkward people, I'm also a bit of an overthinker and I probably have a little stutter👉👈(as I heard from people around me). And about hobbies, I like playing piano and violin, and I sometimes paint. I really hope this is okay...

Your meet-cute happens while you're playing the piano!

CW: none, just Steve and Dustin annoying each other WC: 513 Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

You didn’t hear the ruckus outside of the practice room at first. Your focus remained solely on the piano in front of you, your fingers dancing over the keys from muscle memory. The practice room was tucked into the corner of the school’s music wing, right next to the drama club’s storage room, which usually gave you peace and quiet after a long day at school.

Usually.

“Tell me again why I needed to leave work early to pick up your sorry ass?”

The voice from outside the door was familiar, but one you hadn’t heard in a while. Still, you continued playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. It was your favorite piece, soft and melodic and like being wrapped in a fantasy.

“I told you,” a different, younger voice said, “Eddie moved Hellfire to Thursday this week because we don’t have school tomorrow, and my mom has to work.”

There was a sigh, then: “Whatever, Henderson. You owe me.”

You heard feet shuffling past your room, but one pair abruptly came to a stop. 

“What’s that sound? Like someone’s playing the piano or something.”

“I think you cracked the case, Steve.”

Steve. That’s who that first voice belonged to—Steve Harrington, formerly known as King Steve. He’d graduated last year, the star of the basketball team. Last you’d heard, he was working at the local Family Video. 

Knuckles rapped a light knock on the door—so light, in fact, you barely registered it. Then there was another knock, this one a bit more forceful, that jolted you out of your musical stupor. 

“S-Someone’s in here!” Christ, this wasn’t a public restroom. Why would you answer like that?

Steve pushed the door open until it was slightly ajar. His eyes widened when they met yours, as though he was expecting the piano to be playing itself. 

Those eyes. Their melted milk chocolate hue softened the edges of the awkward tension, pulling you in and rendering you speechless for an extra beat. “Can I…can I help you with something?” You cleared your throat, trying to find the right tone. “I mean…hi.”

Oh, yeah. That was much better.

Steve didn’t seem bothered. He ran a hand through his hair–still gorgeous, perhaps even more so than when he was a student here, if that was possible–and smiled sheepishly. “You play the piano really pretty. Prettily. Is…is that a word?” He turned to the freshman standing next to him to confirm.

“Sure is, Webster.” The kid rolled his eyes. “You still sound like an idiot, though.”

Steve mumbled something under his breath and brought his attention back to you. “Do you play, like, modern stuff? Tears for Fears or something?”

“I don’t think she’s taking requests, Steve.”

“Shut up, Henderson!” Steve shoved the kid with barely any force; just enough to emphasize his annoyance.

You laughed, amused by their ridiculous banter. “Yeah, I do.” Your eyes drifted to where the Henderson boy was waiting impatiently. “But don’t you have to drive him home?”

Without looking back, Steve stepped inside the practice room and closed the door behind him. “He can walk.”

--

[allthingsfangirl101]

The Munson Twins – Steve Harrington

Steve's POV

The Munsons were always a strange pair of twins. For one thing, they were polar opposites of each other. Eddie was into weird role-playing games. Y/N was into volleyball. Eddie is in danger of repeating his senior year. Y/N graduated early. Eddie is into rock and roll. Y/N plays the classical violin and the piano. Eddie loves black leather jackets. Y/N likes flowery sun dresses. Eddie is kind of a loner. Y/N is more popular than me.

Since Y/N graduated early, we spent our senior year in some of the same classes. That being said, we barely spoke to each other. The most we ever talked was congratulating each other after one of us won a game. All through high school, Y/N and I ran in the same social circles because of our sports so we often went to the same parties. Just because we went to the same parties doesn't mean we were friends.

Not to say I didn't wish we were friends. I've gone to most of Y/N's games and she's gone to most of mine. Whenever I looked in the stands and saw her, I became more self-conscious of my playing. I even went to her orchestra concerts. I usually sat in the back and left before anyone noticed I was there.

Throughout high school, I couldn't get Y/N Munson out of my head. It seemed like everywhere I looked, she was there. Even when I was dating Nancy, my mind often wondered to Y/N when I was alone.

When Vecna started killing teens and Eddie was blamed, my thoughts focused even more on Y/N. I wanted to talk to her about all of this, to make sure she knew her brother wasn't what the town thought, but I also didn't want her involved in any of this shit.

I had to force Y/N to the back of my mind as we tried to help Eddie. When we got stuck in the UpsideDown, I allowed my mind to go back to her, hoping she was safe back in Hawkins. We were walking to Nancy's house and I kept glancing at Eddie. If he knew that my thoughts were constantly on his twin sister, he'd kill me.

"Eddie," I said, clearing my throat as I caught up to him. "Hey, man. Um, listen I just umm. . . I just want to say thanks. For saving my ass back there."

"Shit," he laughed. "You saved your own ass, man. I mean that was a real Ozzy move back there."

"Ozzy?"

"When you took a bite out of that bat," he tried to clarify. "Ozzy Osbourne. Black Sabbath. He bit a bat's head off on stage. You really don't know who that is?"

"No," I chuckled. "Sorry."

"Well, anyway, it was very metal, what you did, is all I'm saying."

"Thanks," I sighed.

"Henderson told me you were a badass," he continued. "Insisted on the matter, in fact."

"Wait, Henderson said that?"

"Oh yeah. Shit. That kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea. It's kind of annoying, to be honest. I don't even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, but I guess I got a little jealous." Eddie sighed before continuing, "I guess I couldn't handle the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. Rich parents. Popular. Chicks love him. And not a douche? No way. It goes against all the laws of the universe and my own personal Munson Doctrine. Then again, that's worth shit because even my sister talks highly of you."

"Y/N talks highly of me?" I tried, and failed, not to stutter.

I looked over to see Eddie smirking at me. He leaned in a little too close and whispered, "Very highly of you."

"Okay," I said awkwardly as I used my elbow to push him away from me. I cleared my throat and rolled my shoulders back.

"All jokes aside," Eddie said, "my sister does think highly of you, dude. Whenever people would start to talk shit about you, she'd instantly stand up for you. I never understood it, but she's always talked about how people should give you a chance. She believes that there is more to you than meets the eye."

"She really thinks that?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Hell yeah," he laughed.

"I guess I always thought. . . I mean, everyone else saw me as a dick. I figured she did too."

"Nope," he teased. "She always sees the good in people. It's extremely annoying."

Eddie walked away, but my mind was going a hundred miles an hour. I thought over the few, very few, interactions I've ever had with Y/N. We walked a few more miles, the others talking amongst each other while I walked behind the group.

"Alright," Eddie sighed as he joined me. "Enough of this. You've been in your head since I mentioned Y/N. What's the. . ."

He didn't finish his thought. Instead, he turned toward me with a smirk on his face.

"Ohhhhh," he elongated. "I get it now."

He playfully pushed me before continuing to walk through the woods.

"Wait," I called out as I chased after him. "You get what?"

"Come on, Harrington," Eddie sighed. "Please tell me I don't have to be the one to point this out to you."

"Point what out?"

"You have a thing for my sister."

"What?" I scoffed. "I don't. . . Why would you. . . That's so. . . No."

"No?" Eddie teased. "You sure about that?"

"I mean. . . That would be. . . Crazy."

"No, it wouldn't," he said simply. He saw the look on my face and sighed. "Look, Harrington, as much as I may not understand it, Y/N's right. You're a good guy. You'd be an even better guy if you'd grow a pair and tell my sister how you felt about her."

"What if she doesn't feel the same?" I asked before I could realize how weird it was to have this conversation with Y/N's twin brother.

"She does."

My heart jumped into my throat at those two words. Eddie didn't say anything else. He didn't need to. He sent me a wink before jogging and catching up with the others.

"She does," I repeated under my breath. "Holy shit. She feels the same."

* * * * *

Three months later, Hawkins was barely rebuilding. After Eddie's death, there were two people I was worried about; Dustin and Y/N. Dustin was doing what he normally does - pretending to be okay so no one would worry about him. I checked in on him almost every day. He was getting better, especially since Max was improving.

Y/N, on the other hand, barely leaves her uncle's trailer. Every single one of us has tried to visit her, but her uncle keeps telling us she doesn't want any visitors. Y/N won't even talk to the kids.

"Hi, Steve," Eddie and Y/N's uncle sighed when he opened the door.

"Hi, Mr. Munson," I greeted. "Is Y/N here?"

He sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Look," he sighed, "I really appreciate all you kids have been trying to do for Y/N, but I think it might be best if you give her some space."

"But. . ."

"I'm sorry, Steve," he continued. "I'll let her know you stopped by."

My heart sank as he closed the door. I couldn't get myself to move as I heard Y/N's uncle saying something to her. I couldn't quite hear what he was saying but I forced myself to leave. I turned around and slowly started walking back to my car. As I drove home, I racked my brain trying to figure out what I could do for Y/N.

Just when I had lost all hope, I noticed someone pulled over to the side of the road. As I got closer, I recognized the driver as Y/N. She was looking at her engine.

I didn't hesitate to pull over. I got out of my car and started walking toward her.

"Need a hand?" I called out. I instantly cringed when she jumped. "It's just me, Y/N."

"Sorry," she stuttered.

"It's okay," I tried to say lightly. "So, you need any help?"

"This stupid thing won't start," she grumbled. "And I have no idea why. Eddie usually. . ."

My heart sank when she stopped talking. One look at her and I could see the tears building.

"He usually handled the car," she forced herself to continue as she cleared her throat.

"I could take a look," I shrugged. She looked up at me, her eyes softening.

"Really?"

"Of course."

I walked over to the front of her car and examined the engine. The longer I stared at it, the more Y/N giggled. She was laughing at me, but I didn't care. At least she was laughing.

"You don't know anything about cars, do you, Steve?" 

"That obvious?" I chuckled as I turned toward her.

"Little bit," she said, showing me how much with her fingers. She cleared her throat and wrapped her arms around herself.

"I could still help," I said quickly.

"How?" Y/N asked, her voice softening.

"I could give you a ride," I offered.

"Steve. . ."

"I don't mind," I said quickly. "I can take you home or wherever you were on your way to."

"You don't have to," she said quickly. 

"I don't mind," I tried again.

"I can call my uncle."

"Come on, Y/N. Let me help you."

She looked up at me and held my gaze. "Are you sure?" She asked, her voice soft.

"Of course," I shrugged. I held my hand out, not entirely expecting her to take it. When she did, my heart jumped into my throat. Ignoring the circus in my stomach, I led her over to my car. She smiled as I opened the door and held it for her.

"Thanks," she said as she got in. I took a shaky breath as I walked around and got in the driver's seat. I started driving to the trailer park, my nerves jumping all over the place.

"So," I cleared my throat, "how have you been doing?"

"Fine," she shrugged, looking out the window.

"Are you. . ."

"Please don't, Steve," she cut me off. She looked over at me and I could see the tears building.

I nodded before turning my attention back to the road. We went through the rest of the drive in silence. I wanted to talk to her but I wasn't sure how to start a conversation with her. Before I would've liked, we pulled in front of her uncle's trailer.

"Thanks for driving me, Steve," she said softly.

"Y/N, wait," I said as I grabbed her hand before she could get out of my car. When she looked at me, I forgot what I was going to say.

"Steve," she said softly when I didn't continue.

"I just wanted to say," I said slowly, "if you ever need anything, the group and I are here for you."

"Thanks," she said, clearing her throat. She started to get out but realized that I was still holding her hand.

"There's something else," I forced myself to say. I looked into her eyes and gathered all the courage I could before saying, "I'm sorry about Eddie."

She turned away from me but right before she did, I could see the tears building. With the hand I wasn't holding, she covered her mouth. My heart sank when I realized she was hiding her tears.

"Y/N," I whispered. I pulled on her hand and she let me bring her into my chest. As I wrapped my arms around her, she sobbed into my chest.

"I wish we could've done something," I whispered. I pulled out of our embrace and held her shoulders as I looked deeply into her eyes. "I wasn't able to keep your brother safe, but that doesn't mean I can't keep you safe."

"Steve," she said under her breath.

"I promise, Y/N, I will always be here for you," I said. "If you ever need anything, and I mean anything, all you have to do is call me. Day or night."

"Day or night?" She teased. "That's a little creepy, Steve."

"I didn't mean it like that," I stuttered. "I just meant that if you needed me, I'd. . ."

Y/N cut me off by leaning over and pressing her lips to mine. I didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss. I gently grabbed her face as our lips moved against each other. When we were both out of breath, we broke the kiss and leaned our foreheads against each other.

"You know," she whispered, "there is something you could do for me."

"Anything," I said instantly.

"I'm starving," she started. I smiled when she didn't continue.

"Y/N," I said softly. "Can I take you to dinner?"

I smirked as I leaned in and kissed her again. I felt her smile as our lips moved in sync. I broke the kiss and pressed my nose to hers.

"If it's not too much trouble," she whispered.

"Not at all."

[rustboxstarr]

🎻You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me🎻

Pairings: Eddie Munson x UndiagnosedAutistic!PlusSize!ViolinPlayer!Orchestra!Harrington!Reader (Goddamn thats a lot)

Plot: When Dustins 15th birthday comes up Eddie is set out on a mission to get Steve to help. Unbeknownst to Eddie, Steve has a younger sister, a very strange, very mean sister. There's something about her, he needs to understand how she became to be so different from her brother, so he's set out on his next mission to get the answers to his questions.

Summary: Dustin receives his surprise party and Eddie is getting on you last nerve.

Chapter warnings: Swearing, use of Y/N, (Read series masterlist for storys warnings, tropes and Reader description, dw they're not major just a few)

Wordcount: 3.1k

A/N: I've decided to do short chapters, for some reason ? Whatever, more idk expens? Thats not the word..

Love yas!

Check out my other works! Series Masterlist

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When Monday came around Eddie chanced a glance at you. He’d spotted you, sat alone at a table near the exit to the busy cafeteria, picking at your food with headphones covering your ears -headphones disturbing the already messy hair atop your head- no doubt connected to a walkman that played classical music, he saw you, for the first time, properly. He was only a few feet away and finally he got to see your face. That frown was still there, resting over your features like a mask, a border for people not to cross, but you didn't look sad or upset in the slightest. 

With your head down bobbing only slightly to the music he got the opportunity to look at you. If he didn’t know you he would never have guessed you played the violin, you definitely didn't look the part, just as he’d thought when he first heard about it. Slightly baggy jeans hugging your thick thighs, rolled up at the cuff to stop you from stepping on the hem with your red dirty Vans, a purple striped t-shirt that was pulled down to cover your round stomach. He’d never really thought about how someone with your hobbies would look or tend to dress, but as he saw you he felt like you were misplaced in your world of classical sonatas, and ancient methods of creating music, it felt naturally like you would be a very serious person, granted he didn't know you, you may very well be a serious person but he would have thought you dressed smart, proper as if always professional, with your back straight and stiff, not hunched over like you were now. 

You had only seen him once, and you clearly hadn’t bothered to greet him in any way, as he thought back to the interaction you hadn’t even spared a glance his way, was it appropriate for him to go say hi? Would you even recognise him? As he pondered over his thoughts, back and forth, considering the possibility that it would be weird, or awkward you tasted a spoonful of the questionable goo on your plate and pulled a face. Just as Eddie decided he would go say hi, maybe ease you into feeling more welcome in the halls of highschool, you pushed your chair back from the table. Dirty vans firm on the linoleum as the chair scraped slightly beneath you. Eddie had barely gotten the chance to lift a finger before he saw you pick up your plate and walk off. 

He felt slightly deflated at his missed opportunity, there was something about you that was intriguing, whether it was that constant unexplainable frown, your choice of clothing, the fact that you played the violin or was Steve Harringtons sister he didn't know, but there was something about you that made him want to understand why you were the way you were, but alas he missed his opportunity. 

–

It was obvious you stayed out of everyone's way and kept to the standard of being invisible when he didn't see you again till Wednesday afternoon. He was currently making his way to fourth period, with time to spare he moasied down the hall to the other side of the building. He laid eyes on you again, rooting through what he assumed was your locker, similar clothing hung over your figure as a charcoal gray, distressed messenger bag clung to your shoulder. 

This was his chance, his chance to introduce himself and get an insight to how you were as a person, so he took it. He stopped near you, sidestepping to avoid bashing into a group of cheerleaders he arrived at your locker. He wasn't sure what to do or say so he opted for standing next to you, awaiting your acknowledgement of him in your vicinity. Nervousness bubbled up in his throat as he stood awkwardly, waiting, and waiting. You, however, paid him no mind to him whatsoever, pulling out a textbook and slipping it into your bag. Finally, after what felt like forever, you closed your locker and stood up straight. You looked at him, he looked at you, you said nothing. He felt a sense of unease as you stared up at him, not budging in your set features depicting a frown. 

“Hi” he shyly opened up the conversation. He had expected you to greet him back, but no such luck, all you did was raise your eyebrows at him, as if he'd said something extremely stupid. “Uh.. I’m Eddie” Steve was right, you were fucking unapproachable. 

“I didn’t ask” your stare was unwavering, pinning him to the ground, despite him being 6 feet and 5 inches tall and you only at 5 feet 7 inches he felt intimidated, as if you had all the power, in a relationship that wasn't even there. 

“Oh, ha ha” he chuckled nervously “Um” he wasn't sure how to answer that “Well uh, we briefly met at Steve’s, I was in his kitchen when you came home, on Friday” 

“So?” still your piercing glare felt like it was staring into his soul. “Well I uh, Ijust wanted to say hi” he explained. “Listen man-” man? he had never once heard a girl refer to him that way in slang, granted, he only knew a few “- I’m really not interested in getting to know any of Steve's loser friends” you spoke. 

“I’m not a friend of Steve’s” for some reason he felt slightly insulted that you would ever be under that impression, that, he, Eddie Munson who was the way he was, dressed the way he dressed and did the things he did would be friends with Steve “The Hair” Harrington. “Yeah, well makes no difference, I don't want to get to know you either way” before Eddie had even the slightest chance to respond to that, you spun around and walked off, down the corridor and out of sight. 

Eddie had experience with people who didn't want to talk to him, he was hated by more people than not but they were boring, basic people, you were far from that, a freak if he were to go by this town's standards, and he didn't even do anything to you! He was perfectly polite, a little nervous, ok a lot nervous but still polite!

No wonder you didn't have friends if that's how you acted everytime someone even spoke a word to you.

Despite all this, being extremely annoyed at your rude way of speaking to him he was still fucking intrested in getting to know you! And he wouldn't let down, he had to befriend you and understand what can create such a strange person, he needed to understand. 

– 

Friday night September the 6th was the evening of Dustin's surprise party, which had been decided to be held at Steve's house, a fact that was in advantage for Eddie, he had hoped anyway. He hadn't expected to see you around them but he thought you might be nearby. 

He sauntered in behind Mike and Lucas around 6 pm to set up for the people arriving 15 minutes before Dustin whose Mom was dropping him off for 7. Carrying bags of party supplies and various snacks which they all dumped in the living room. “So your sister around?” Eddie tried to ask casually, his arms crossed and leaning against the wall next to Steve, both watching Mike and Lucas begin to unpack all the items. Steve scoffed “Why you got the hots for her?” he joked dryly. “Having met her only once I can safely tell you, no I do not, however I am wanting to know so I know what to expect for the evening” he gave a wicked grin referring to your fight the previous Sunday. 

Steve pulled an unamused face “If you must know Munson, she is not around at the moment to grace us with her presence.” 

“Mm, where is she?” Eddie asked, his plan wouldn’t work if you weren't even around for him to try to talk to you. “Why do you care?” Steve stood straight, turning towards Eddie to assess his face. “I don't care.” he shrugged and walked over to help the boys. Even though all he was trying to do was become your friend he still felt as if telling Steve would be some sort of betrayal, even if he didn't like Steve they had gotten to speaking terms the past week. 

The clock showed 7:15, they had surprised Dustin, all wished him a happy birthday and were now in the middle of snacking and chatting to everyone, hearing Dustin tell them all the things he had received for his birthday so far while simultaneously eyeing the table of gifts to his left. From his seat on the couch he saw you step in through the front door and toe your shoes off. Since you'd come home in the middle of it it felt obvious you would say a curt hello or even just look into the room where almost ten people sat but no such luck, you walked straight past the entrance to the living room and up the stairs, so quiet Eddie wondered if he had been the only one to notice your arrival. 

“Ok, presents!” Steve smiled. He had been very clear with the fact that he didn't want to be around Eddie or plan Dustin's party but now that he was here and Dustin was grinning from ear to ear, over the moon that his friends hadn't forgotten his birthday and that they were all here now Steve couldn't help but beam like a proud mama hen. 

Dustin ripped the delicate wrapping paper and squealed in delight with every single gift he opened. “Who’s this from?” he asked as he held up a box with no note or card in sight. “Oh yea, that one’s from Y/N” Steve smiled. You were an asshole, and refused to be anywhere near the party, yet you were still a softie, getting a gift for the kid who somehow had managed to get you to talk to him. 

He had never heard of you before, he had never once heard Dustin mention you, you completely ignored everyone in school including Dustin, just as you had ignored the party and gone straight up to your room and yet, you had gotten him a gift. A gift which it seemed you hadn't even planned on taking credit for, or being around to say your welcome when Dustin thanked you, just as he had the others. Why were you giving him a gift? Did you even know him? You must have, people don’t give gifts to people they don't know, and seeing as it was you he felt sure you definitely wouldn't do that. 

“HOLY SHIT!” Dustin almost screamed when he opened the box, he pulled something out of dark sparkly tissue paper to show the group. In his hand he held an extremely detailed figurine of Conan from the comic The Savage Sword of Conan, it must have cost you a shit tonne of money because it sure as hell wasn't some ordinary figurine you could buy for 20 bucks in the comic book shop. Yet you were not here to give him the gift??

Things became calmer after the giftopening, everyone got comfortable on the two couches, beanbags and arm chairs to watch Dustin's guilty pleasure The Goonies, all snacking on chips and candy, staring at the large screen. Robin, who Eddie barely knew, apparently felt comfortable enough to spread out on Steve's couch, resting her feet on Eddie's thighs while a bowl of popcorn rested on her abdomen. Eddie was quite frankly shocked at the action but was told by Steve that that was simply Robin, comfortable and friendly with everyone, so he paid her no mind as she got comfortable. 

He felt enough time had passed that he had both mustered up the courage to kick his plan into action, but also excuse himself from the room with viable reasoning. He pushed off the couch, removing Robin’s legs and placing them on the plush leather he had recently occupied. “Where you going?” she whispered at the disturbance, “Take a piss” he explained as he stepped over Mikes gangly legs slouching off the laZboy. During his last visit to the Harrington house he had used the toilet, and knew exactly where to go. Walking past the kitchen he opened the door to the bathroom, and closed it. Not stepping inside, he had told Robin he was going to the bathroom, so she and anyone else who overheard had to be under the impression he was actually on the toilet. 

He proceeded to tiptoe across the fluffy worn down carpet in his socked feet, stepping as lightly as he could as to not alert anyone of his whereabouts. He tread with extreme caution up the stairs, making careful work of not making any of the floorboards creak, as he got to the landing he realized he had no idea where he was going. He looked around, scanning the hallway, eyes breezing past bookshelves, family photos, lamps and a cute looking rocking chair, pushed up in a corner, a dim lamp shedding light on the green fabric. All doors were slightly ajar except for one, he took his chance. Treading down the oak wood floors to what must be your bedroom, before he arrived however a collection of pictures caught his attention. There were a rare few family photos, mostly from your’s and Steve's youth, some scenery and an awful lot of pictures of Steve. Steve holding his diploma, Steve looking disgruntled at the desk in Family Video, Steve mid air throwing a basketball into a hoop, Steve with a trofé, but not a single one of you. Had it not been for those family photos it would have looked as if you never existed, didn't live there, wasn't the daughter of Charles and Sharon Harrington. Before he had time to think about it though he was stood outside the closed door. White painted fir wood acting as a heavy metal wall with the anxiousness Eddie felt. He couldn't explain it, but sneaking around Steve's house to discreetly talk to you had him on edge. He took a deep breath, shook his shoulders out and clenched his hands. Thick finger wrapped around the doorknob and turned it, his hip pushing the heavy metal open. 

You sat with your back to the headboard, slim headphones connected to a walkman that laid haphazardly on the comforter, threatening to fall off and thud onto the floor, various cassette tapes littered around it. A book in your hands, immersed in a world of fictional characters in riveting battle, feet planted firmly on the bed to keep your book resting on your knees. Black t-shirt draped over your torso, covering the waistband of a baggy pair of black sweatpants. 

You looked up, annoyed, a look which quickly turned into confusion as you were met with the sight of your brother's stupid friend and not his own face. You quickly put your book aside, pulling your headphones off. Your music was very loud, Eddie wondered how you hadn't blasted your eardrums off as he heard the familiar melody of Hounddog playing softly through the room. “Who are you?” you frowned, scooting back on the bed to sit up straight. Eddie chuckled a scoff, really? “Uh I’m Eddie, we’ve met?” the statement came out as more of a question to rejog your memory. “Okeeey” you began, talking to Eddie as if he'd said something stupid only you knew was stupid “Why are you in my room?” you asked, seemingly annoyed with him. 

Eddie took the chance to close the door behind him as he explained “Thought this was the bathroom”. He took a second to admire your room. Posters of Elvis Presley, Ray charles, Frank Sinatra, various composers and other musical artists hung on every square inch of you walls, a white desk pushed against your only window, littered with various pencils, papers and books, shelves holding a large amount of books as well as action figures and a collection of odd objects. As he continued looking around he noticed a black metal stand for music sheets, papers layered on the shelf, some close to falling over and floating to the gray carpet, a violin case, next to it multiple different violins hanging from stands on the wall. 

“Yeah well the bathroom is down the hall, so leave please” you rolled your eyes. Eddie ignored your request, avoiding it with a “Cool room”, the frown permanently based on your face deepened “You like Elvis?” he smirked slightly, it was very obvious you did, his face stuck out like a sore thumb compared to all the other posters. “Get out” you stated, becoming very annoyed. No one, not a single living soul other than close family had been in your room, you never had anyone in your room, and you didn't want anyone in your room, so the fact that this guy had just waltzed in as if it was his god given right really pissed you off. 

“Don’t worry, I just wanna’ know what it's like to be Steve Harrington’s sister” he widened his eyes at you when he said your brother's name before going back to being in awe of your room. “Fucking unbarable, now get the fuck out” you were getting mad now. Eddie chuckled “Yeah I can imagine” 

“Okey” you pushed yourself off the soft mattress, feet thumping to the floor as you walked over to the man “that's enough” you put your hands on his shoulders and spun him around, forcing him to walk back to your door “Get out now” you pushed him through the doorframe and promptly shut the door in his face.  Despite being kicked out, it was as if time stopped when your fingers grasped onto his shoulders. He didn't even get the chance to fight you on the matter, all he could think about was how you were touching him, how your soft violinist hands grasped onto him so tightly and ordered his body around. It was so extremely strange to think about as he stood awestruck with his face mere inches away from the wood of your door, that you had touched him. What was even stranger was the tingling feeling that seemed to spread from those same shoulders down to his chest, giving him a warming but harsh hug. He frowned at the feeling, that was new, and it was weird. He frowned and shook it off, he’d get you to talk to him eventually and made his way back down the stairs to finish the rest of the movie.

[livwritesstuff]

So I’ve made a few references to Steve being an Excel guy as an adult (because someone had to be in charge of Steve and Eddie’s money and it certainly wasn’t going to be Eddie).

He’s got the classic spreadsheets – monthly budget, college savings projections, income tracking because he and Eddie both work jobs with variable incomes (Steve is a counselor and Eddie is an author), the whole nine yards.

Steve also has some “extracurricular” spreadsheets. I’ve talked about how Steve has a spreadsheet tracking the combinations of Mario Kart racers/vehicles he tries out (there’s a ranking system involved, it’s very complex). He’s got one for his fantasy football league, obviously, and he and Moe put money on their March Madness brackets so there’s a spreadsheet for that too.

Eddie’s personal favorite is the one comparing monthly expenses by kid, which isn’t exactly a necessary metric per se, but from it stems a game Steve and Eddie secretly play: who is the most expensive Harrington daughter?

The winner tends to rotate throughout the year, but Hazel is usually their least expensive child in the long run. She does ballet, which isn’t too bad when she’s little but then she graduates to pointe shoes, and Steve had no idea that not only do pointe shoes set you back $100 minimum, they also wear out ridiculously fast, and, as he’s been told many times, you can’t wear the dead ones.

Moe usually takes that top spot in the winter – elite basketball teams aren’t cheap by any stretch of the imagination, and then in high school she gets into snowboarding, which is somehow even more expensive. She’s also consistently the reason they hit their health insurance deductible every year. 

Robbie is their overall most expensive kid by a mile. She drove up their car insurance by getting into an accident a month after she got her driver's license, had braces for five years, and the prescription on her glasses has changed every eighteen months since she was seven. She’s notorious for breaking her phone, so she racks up quite a tab in that regard too (the one year they got a protection plan was also the one year she had no phone-related incidents, so they didn’t even bother renewing it – they just make her suffer with a cracked screen for a few months before they finally drag her to the mall to get it fixed). There’s also the year Eddie bought her an electric violin which was, naturally, not cheap (Eddie argues it shouldn’t count because he was the brains behind that operation).

[daigina-3]

Passing Notes (in Secrecy)

(A childhood crush to nothing to something fic)

(1/4)

In 7th grade Steve Harrington likes a girl for the first time. Outwardly, he likes girls when it’s convenient. When it gets his friends off his back, when it makes him looks cool.

This new girl at Hawkins Middle, though? The one with the curly brown hair and dimples and flannels that are too big for her? Steve doesn’t like her to be cool or whatever; she’s just for Steve.

But then the new girl Steve likes isn’t actually a new girl at all.

✨Read it on AO3!✨

Steve sees her across the hall.

Or, he sees her hair first, through a thinning crowd of other middle schoolers, running to their lockers or their friends lockers to chat and escape class for a few minutes.

Her hair’s just barely touching her shoulders, curly and dark brown. Just a little fluffy and Steve knows he’s never seen this head of hair before- a new person in a town like Hawkins where no one is new- he keeps staring.

She’s wearing a flannel that’s way too big for her, jeans and a messenger bag slung over her shoulder. There’s lots of little buttons on it, ones Steve can’t make out but he thinks it makes her bag look cool- she has personality. Eclectic (thanks Mr. Donovan for the new vocab word).

She slams her locker closed and turns- Steve just barely catches her face, pretty with her nose scrunched up like she’s mad- before she does a 180 and disappears down the hall.

Steve’s liked lots of girls, publicly. Loudly. He puffs his chest up in front of his friends and says “I dropped my pencil on purpose in Science class and Jennifer gave it back to me,” he smiles, smug as his guy friends look on. “Works every time. She’s into me.”

He was totally bullshitting, of course. He’d dropped his pencil on accident. But Tommy teased him about crushing on Jennifer- made some gross comment about her changing during PE- and Steve hated the little shriveling feeling he got in his stomach when Tommy made jokes about that stuff. Embarrassment. Shame- liking people was shameful- or, no, being lame, being unpopular, being undatable and shy around girls was shameful.

(Years later, Steve would scoff at his seventh grade self. The least of his problems.)

So Steve balled up that shriveling little feeling in his gut and clenched it right, took control. Actually, hadn’t Tommy heard? Steve was the master of picking up chicks. He’d played Jennifer like a violin, if violins were easy to play, and now she was hooked.

It kept going- first Jennifer, then Stacy, then Michelle. The second Steve caught even a whiff of his friends about to say something he took control. And yeah, turns out this shit was really like eighty percent confidence because the guys bought it and the girls did too- every one of them blushed and turned to look at their friends when Steve passed them by in the hallways. He was a chick magnet- the most badass chick magnet seventh grader you’d ever met, the way he told it.

When people were watching, anyway. When they weren’t, well. He guesses he’d liked Jennifer and the rest of them enough but he really couldn’t have cared less. They were fine. They were cool. But even if they were cool, the pressure of girls was way more trouble than it was worth.

But Steve sees her- and suddenly, he has his first private crush. A little feeling nudges it’s way into his chest. A little pinch in his heart when he sees her in the cafeteria or at her locker. And this is just for him.

For the first time, without anyone around, Steve likes a girl.

He doesn’t have any classes with her- wouldn’t dare ask any of his friends about her. He wants to keep this little feeling, this fragile thing in his chest, just for him. He won’t let anyone else ruin it.

He hears her laugh at something a teachers says- and it’s so cute. He noticies when she tucks her curly hair behind one ear- and she’s so pretty. He sees her eat alone at lunch and and wants to sit with her, pauses in the middle of the cafeteria- maybe-

“Hey, Steve,” Carol calls in the other direction. Tommy H and the others- Brian, Isaac, the whole gang are waiting.

Steve joins them, dragging his sneakers so they squeak on the linoleum in quiet dejection, mostly tunes out when his friends talk about some weirdo boy in Carol’s class who draws freaky pictures in his textbook and maybe is starting a cult.

He sees her name, kind of. Written sloppy on the paper she’s got crushed in her hands- a B on some math homework- he reads ELLIE MUNSON.

Ellie Munson. It’s cute. Ellie. Ellie.

He tucks the name away next to the little feeling in his chest.

Ellie.

*

A week later, he has a note written up. A little torn out piece of notebook paper, folded up into eighths in the breast pocket of his jacket. Right next to the tucked away little feeling in his heart and the tucked away Ellie . Ellie and the little feeling and the note squeeze in his chest, tight. He gets on the bus- it won’t take him home, but it’s the bus he knows Ellie will be riding because he told his mom he had to stay after school the day before so he could scope out the bus pick up- and she’s not there.

He stands at the front, in between two of the cheap bus seats, looking for her curly brown hair. He keeps going over every row, every mop of hair in every seat until he accepts that she’s not there and kids are pushing at him from behind- he drags his feet to the back of the bus and plops down in a free seat.

He takes out the little folded up paper and fiddles with it in his fingers. He pouts, looks out the window, feels the nerves drain out of him slow and sad.

Another day.

Thump .

Someone plops down next to him and Steve’s little pinch in his chest becomes a choke hold because holy shit it’s her. It’s her.

She’s got her Walkman in her ears, old and taped together with some stickers on it. She’s not paying Steve any mind, almost trained in the way she’s not looking at him; lost in the chaotic music turned up so high he can hear it loud and clear next to her, though he doesn’t know what it is.

Up close, she has the faintest hint of freckles on her cheeks. Steve’s never thought a nose could be cute before but hers is and her eyes are so big and round- he takes her in in sneaking glances, his cheeks warm.

They pass by three stops before Steve kicks himself. He doesn’t know when she gets off but he can’t miss it now. He can’t.

He turns his body- frozen stiff- towards her, their knees just an inch apart, and thanks god for the private bubble made by an entire bus of kids talking over each other so loud that no one would hear them even if they tried.

He clutches the note in his hand.

“Uh- Hi- Ellie?”

She doesn’t hear him at first, still ignoring him and staring at nothing like she’s a trained pro. Steve repeats himself but ends up tapping her on the shoulder and she jumps like she only just noticed him.

“…yeah?” She mumbles, quiet.

Steve doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t plan this far ahead- sit next to the pretty girl, give her the note, hope she says yes. But what does he say ?

“I, uh. Your hair is real pretty.” It’s not his best move- but other girls love compliments. Steve had called Natalie H’s eyes cute once and she had kissed him on the cheek. So maybe..

Ellie just blank faces him, looks a little confused. Offended, maybe?

Steve panics a little.

He has no idea where to go from here, so with his heart in his throat and his little tucked away feeling blown up to the size of a hot air balloon in his chest, Steve takes the little note folded up in eighths and thrusts it towards Ellie, his arms stiff.

She stares at him for four agonizing seconds before taking it.

And the note is about as elegant as the China-glass-fragile ego of a seventh grade boy will allow- which is to say, Steve had written, using his best pen in very careful handwriting:

Ellie,

Hi. I’m Steve. You’re a really cool girl. I like you. Will you go out with me?

[_] YES or [_]NO

Steve

Steve watches her, his lips pressed together in a thin line, the hot hair balloon in his chest ready to explode.

“You don’t have to answer now,” he manages to get out- is praying she’ll smile and slip it in her pocket. Maybe sit a little closer to him on the bus seat and share her headphones.

Her eyebrows knit together.

Her lips purse in a sour frown.

She looks at Steve like he’s something nasty stuck to her shoe.

Steve has never felt more scared.

“Is this a joke ? You’re not fucking funny,” Ellie spits, her voice is poison, it’s anger, she hates Steve and he doesn’t understand. Can’t wrap his mind around it and the feeling in his chest that got so big, that choke hold that was so tight- it’s going for the kill.

“No- no, I-“

“I told your dumb friends- I’m not a girl,” she snarls and balls the paper up in her hand.

“Wait- huh? No-“

And Steve sees it. Holy shit, holy shit- how could he be so dumb? The way his shoulders were just a little bit wider, the way his eyebrows were just a little bit unruly, not like the other girls in school- his voice, Steve had thought it was just a little scratchy for a girl but no. No.

Steve looks Ellie over and he’s not Ellie at all. On his messenger bag at between them, among the little buttons and pins a hand-sewn on patch says EDDIE in big bold letters.

Eddie Munson was not a girl.

Steve screams- not because Eddie but because he has so many things he wants to say all at once- I’m sorry I didn’t know and I didn’t know and it’s fine I don’t care I’m sorry and it wasn’t a joke I wouldn’t joke about that and I didn’t mean it- and I’m sorry-

And eventually he does. His face beat-red, he rushes to explain himself and then calms down and actually explains himself- and apologize- and apologize again.

Eddie- Eddie, not Ellie- side eyes him, weary. He looks from the note balled up in his hand to Steve and back again. “I’m.. not gay,” he mutters.

“No! No, me neither,” Steve rushes to agree. And he’s not. Eddie just.. really looked like a pretty girl. So obviously now that he’s not a pretty girl, Steve doesn’t like him. Duh.

“It’s the hair,” Eddie says. “People always call me ‘little girl’ when they see me from behind.” Steve agrees, laughs stiffly.

“So- we don’t have to, like, tell anyone about this.. it was a.. misunderstanding. I’m sorry,” Steve says for the hundredth time.

Eddie shakes his head, tells Steve it’s okay- he’s sorry, too, for snapping- but there’s some assholes around school getting on his case, so. He assumed Steve was, too.

“Tommy,” Steve supplies and Eddie nods. Adds ‘and Carol’ and Steve grimaces. They both know Steve knows Tommy and Carol. Their friend group is no secret. “Yeah, they can be.. I get it.”

And he does get it. He gets that whatever Carol and Tommy have been saying to Eddie or about Eddie that it fucking sucks and if they knew.. Steve doesn’t want to think about it.

(For him or for Eddie.)

So he and Eddie promise- this stays between them. Eddie seems to understand that Steve- well, he doesn’t have to say it and Eddie just gets it, gets what he wants to say. And Steve kind of thinks he gets Eddie, too.

And they give each other these smiles- careful, small smiles.

The bus lurches to a stop, just outside of Forest Hills trailer park and Eddie stands up slow, letting a few kids behind him go first. “This is me,” he says. “See you around.. Steve.”

“Uhh, yeah. Bye.. Eddie.”

Eddie shuffles down the middle of the bus and hops off the last step onto the pavement. He pretends to fiddle with his messenger bag, but Steve sees him sneak a glance up at the bus, right at the window where Steve is sitting Steve knows Eddie is looking because he’s looking too- until they lock eyes and simultaneously just about jump out of their skin, pretending they were doing anything but watching the other.

-

Steve wakes up nervous. His mom drops him off and he spends the whole car ride and the walk to his locker wondering if he’ll see Eddie. Will it be weird? He thinks of Eddie avoiding him- the weird guy who asked another guy out- and wants to hide a little.

It’s not that weird, though. He thought Eddie was Ellie- so it doesn’t mean anything. Now that he knows Eddie is Eddie, he doesn’t want to go out with him, obviously. So there’s literally nothing weird about it.

It continues to feel weird, though.

He’s walking to first period, reading over the homework he only half did, when he sees Eddie. It doesn’t feel weird when Steve actually sees him.

He wonders if he’s allowed to say something- he doesn’t have anything to say, he just wants to talk. Ask him if he got home okay or show him his stupid homework and see if he could get some help on number six, cause it was a bitch.

Maybe if they have an actual conversation after the disaster on the bus, Steve won’t feel as anxious as he has anymore. Maybe it’s because he’s talked to Eddie but he’s still thinking of her- of him- as Ellie.

Maybe if they have a conversation, they could be actual friends. Even if he’s not a girl, Eddie’s still kinda cool. They could hang out and listen to music on weekends or Steve could show Eddie his pool; other kids love his pool!

He has no idea what to say- just that it has to be something- but when he smiles and goes to say “hi” or “I like your shirt,” Eddie only waves and they both keep walking.

Steve keeps thinking about talking to him; maybe he can just go up to him at his locker and say hi like they’re already friends? Maybe if he asks a question, like about the buttons on Eddie’s bag? Steve tosses around the idea of asking to sit with him at lunch but shoots that down, fast. Sitting with someone at lunch is serious business, it’s not something done right out the gate.

He’s still thinking about it when Tommy and Carol corner him at his locker in third period.

“Is it true?” Carol almost throws herself into the locker next to Steve, leaning on it like it’s a life preserver.

“Is… what true?”

She scoffs and looks at Tommy in that giddy way she does when she has something juicy to talk about. “Jason told Michelle you and that weirdo in my advanced algebra class were sitting together on the bus yesterday. Michelle said that you asked him out. ”

Steve feels his stomach drop. Oh god. Oh god, oh god.

Carol’s smile is sharp and she looks curious- but in a way where she’s trying to see if Steve’s edible or not. If she can rip him apart.

She always did remind him of a hyena, like the ones on Animal Planet.

“Are you, like, a homo?” Carol asks, delighted.

“ No !” The denial comes up so fast and so violently that it kind of feels like vomiting. “Carol, what the fuck?”

And then he says something he knows is fucked up. But with Carol and Tommy’s eyes on him, one looking starving and the other disgusted, he doesn’t see any other way out. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows he’s going to regret them.

“That kid on the bus? That was just a joke. He sat next to me and I was like ‘what the fuck?’ I mean, you can’t even tell if it’s a boy or a girl. I was going to tell you about it at lunch, I knew you’d think it was funny.”

Steve sees Tommy’s shoulders relax a little and Carol’s face goes from gleeful to ecstatic and he knows he’s safe.

“Oh, Jesus, Steve,” Tommy exhales like Steve was just pulled from a burning bus. “You really had us worried. I thought I’d have to start changing in the bathroom during PE.”

“Oh my God, but I bet that weirdo Munson is gay. The poor eighth graders. I bet that creep stares at everyone’s butts when they change. Do you think we should tell the PE teacher?” Carol giggles.

Tommy shrugs like he might consider it. “My dad says that’s where they get you. The homos. In the locker room or the bathroom, right when you got your pants around your ankles.”

“Euuugh- It’s a miracle he didn’t, like, grab your ass, Steve! Imagine!”

Steve laughs with them, pretending to shiver in disgust.

He’s safe. Safe was supposed to feel good, wasn’t it? But all Steve feels is sick.

[cinnamon-mushroomabomination]

I see your "Steve Harrington plays the violin" and "Steve Harrington played the piano as a kid" headcanons, and I raise you with Steve playing the harp.

His dad probably wasn't on board with it, and he only did lessons with his mom whenever Harrington Sr. wasn't home, but I wanna see that man in a pretty dress playing the harp.

[bmodiwrites]

Howdy friends! My latest fic, Fingertips Putting On A Show, is now up on AO3! I got prompted with a musician AU and hand kink, so here we are! There's definitely stuff that's not for minors, so you kids keep scrolling! I'm a sucker for violins, so I hope my prompter pal appreciates my instrument of choice! Check out a snippet of it below (then read the rest over on AO3!)

Sitting in his usual seat, Eddie looked up from the crowd, spotting Steve on the stage without any problems at all. After years of being married and sharing the experience, Eddie knew the ins and outs of the stage’s setup. Steve was first chair violinist, so he stood out in the chaos of the orchestra, anyway. A bright spotlight shone upon him, highlighting his status both in the row of strings and within the whole company. Tonight, Steve was the main soloist.

Both proud of Steve and anxious for him, Eddie forced his mind to occupy itself somewhere else. Luckily, Eddie’s tried and true obsession never failed to capture his attention. Steve’s long fingers wrapped around the bow of his violin, resting it lightly in his grasp. Eddie watched with rapt attention as Steve flexed his fingers to warm them up before putting them down on the strings. Those hands, even after so long, never ceased to drive him absolutely insane.

As a former musician himself, Eddie understood the advantage those long fingers had over the woman sitting next to him. They afforded him a beauty that most people would kill for.

Steve’s hands were massive and strong, like they were meant to hold precious things in their palms. The callouses that covered his fingers reminded Eddie of the moment in his youth where the world went on forever & he was untouchable, when his guitar and the music he made with it were the only things that mattered.

Aside from their skill, Eddie couldn’t deny his love of their size, either. Steve’s hands spanned wide, with large palms that spread so easily out across Eddie’s chest when Steve held him down to really drive his cock home while they made love. And though Eddie never would’ve pictured himself a fiend for hands, Steve’s drove him around the bend. Those hands created (and still did, every single day) something in Eddie that still felt uncontrollable; despite years of exposure and personal interaction with them, the obsession steadily got worse and worse.

Especially when he played the violin. Eddie hadn’t stopped being transfixed since he first laid eyes on Steve Harrington all those years ago.

Read the rest on AO3!

Taglist (shoot me a message if you'd like to be included!): @infinite-orangepeel, @thefreakandthehair, @prettyboisteveharrington, @corrodedcoughin

[natti-ice]

Omg hey congrats on 700 omg! Hope my blog gets that big some day!! Your mini challenge sounded so fun !!! So I am submitting bc I’m curious.

I am plus size, (early 20s), pretty introverted around strangers- but SO extroverted around those I love, like I am afraid to ask for ketchup alone but if I’m with a nervous bestie I am ASKING for ketchup from the waitress lol. I do alot of crafting, I make jewelry, crochet, embroider, color, try to draw even though I kinda suck LOL. I for sure have dark humor, I LOVE to laugh, I love really interesting people? Like people with hobbies that society deems as strange or like ‘weirdo’ stuff. I played violin in middle/high school, so was a total music nerd. For fandoms, I was so in to TWD in high school- Joe Keery, Stranger things (obvi!) Carmen Berzatto from the Bear, ACOTAR (specifically Azriel+Cassian), I also have a huge thing for the pornstar Owen Gray LMAO!!! I’m so interested

Thank you so much<33

I ship you with…Steve Harrington!

He would be so amused by you and all of your little hobbies, he always wanted to be more creative and maybe he’d even ask you if he could do some crafts with you!!

Also I too am very much into Owen gray😭

Join my 700 celebration!

[punkslovepoints]

Steve is visiting Eddie in LA where he works as a record producer. They play basketball. They're not dating.

-

Steve didn't think he'd ever seen Eddie look so at home. When he'd imagined Eddie in LA, it felt like a total antithesis to everything he remembered about him. But to see him so relaxed, so well suited to his surroundings, he wondered if he remembered him right at all.

Eddie showed him to his room, a second bedroom that was obviously usually used as a recording or rehearsal studio. There were a series of instruments propped up on the walls from guitars to a violin. A set of drums sat in the corner gathering dust. The bed was a camp bed, but a high quality one. He noticed the mattress was still covered in plastic, a sales tag still hanging off the metal frame.

No sooner had Steve put down his bag and sat on the bed was Eddie bounding back into his room, a carryall in his hand, wearing a Metallica tank top and a pair of long basketball shorts, hanging just below the knee. His hair was tied up out of his face.

Steve stared in shock.

"C'mon, Harrington, gonna take you to meet the guys."

He stood up and followed Eddie out of the apartment, muttering "The guys?" to himself as he followed Eddie down the stairs.

The guys turned out to be a group of men and women who Eddie met up with once a week on a basketball court round the corner from his apartment to shoot hoops. Steve felt pretty glad of the fact that he’d felt out of his depth since he’d stepped off the plane because this latest information may have blown his mind if not.

The courts were owned by the community center, where one of the women, a girl called Mina, worked. She explained that she ran a group for gay youth and they let her use the courts for personal use when the center wasn't using them.

Eddie introduced him to everyone as the high school star basketball player. They responded in jest, nudging Eddie with various in-jokes that Steve didn’t understand. He shook everyone’s hands, they obviously weren't professional sports people, looked like the kind of kids Eddie hung around with in school but adults now, girls with short hair and guys with earrings.

Eddie reached into his carryall, took out a basketball and threw it to Steve, who despite his shock, still caught it with ease. The rest of the group made mock impressed noises in Eddie’s direction again. He shut them up with a glare and suggested they play a game of H-O-R-S-E, splitting into two teams. A guy who’d introduced himself as Marshall stepped up and called dibs on Steve being on his team. Eddie grinned at Steve, smacking the arch of his back to push him in the direction of the other side of the court.

Eddie wasn’t good at basketball, Steve found with some relief that he hadn’t been that wrong about him. He dropped the ball a lot, missed most of his shots and cheated so flagrantly that it was nothing but funny. In fact, most of them did. After the game of H-O-R-S-E, it developed into a pickup game. None of them seemed that familiar with the rules, or they just didn’t care. Steve found himself frustrated at first when several of his completely legal plays were stolen from him by somebody blatantly breaking every rule. At one point, he could have sworn that one of the girls just ran past him holding the ball.

After a couple of hours of play, he was sweating like a pig, having had to lose his shirt part way into the game due to being dressed for cross-country travel and not intensive sports. Neither side had really been keeping score, but it was clear that Steve’s team had won by a mile. Eddie reached into his bag, taking out two bottles of water and holding one out to Steve. Steve settled down next to him on the community center steps and took a swig. Eddie’s tank was much darker in the front from exertion. Steve tried not to stare at his arms, which were glistening with sweat. He thought back to that night in New York, how much he wanted to touch him back then. How much he wanted to touch him now.

Eddie turned to him as if he could read his mind, a devious smile spreading across his face.

Keeping eye contact, he took a huge gulp of his water before holding the bottle over his head and pouring the rest over himself. Steve got caught in range as he shook his hair out like a dog, water and sweat going everywhere.

Steve jumped to his feet and threw Eddie a look. He knew why Eddie had done it, knew from his smirk that he had given him the reaction he'd wanted too, one that Steve was trying hard to hide with a cover of disdain.

Laura, one of the girls, started laughing, “This is why you stay away from Eddie post-game,” she warned him from a safe distance away. Steve responded to her with a shrug before looking down at Eddie and making a decision.

He took his own water bottle and poured the remainder over his head, feeling the water make its way down his back, pooling in his collarbones and soaking his hair through. He saw Eddie's throat bob as he leaned forward, water dripping from every strand and with a smile, shook it out directly in Eddie's face.

Eddie didn’t move as he’d expected, just locked eyes with him. Then, his eyes sparkling with intent, he very deliberately gathered the water from his cheek, drawing his thumb over his lips and darting out his tongue to catch the remainder of the droplets.

The water still felt cool on Steve’s bare chest and back but he felt his skin heat up, still inches from Eddie's face. Eddie stared back, a wicked grin on his face, a challenge in his eyes.

"If you girls are done flirting, we're gonna grab some food. You in?" Mina's voice broke through their game of chicken.

Eddie raised an eyebrow in question and Steve shrugged, "I'm yours this week, Munson. You ask, I do."

"Don't tempt me," Eddie muttered as he grabbed the ball from his side and put it away in his carryall, joining the rest of the group as they left the court.

>> Read the rest of the fic on AO3 <<

[solarmorrigan]

For the emoji ask: 🥺 or 🧠

Whichever you want to answer or both 🤗

Hallo! Let's see...

🥺- Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Little moments! Something about having characters do little things for each other, make little adjustments or gestures, putting in "this made me think of you" vibes - small, mundane signals that they really know each other and care. Those always get me

🧠- Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

(The wording on this one was vague, I'm not sure if you were supposed to give me a character, or if I'm supposed to pick one? Secret third option? I dunno, I went ahead and picked one, I hope that's okay!)

For Steve Harrington! One of my favorite headcanons for him is that he's musically inclined. Singing is my favorite, but I also love when he's gotten rich kid lessons in piano or violin, when he picks up guitar to annoy his parents, when he picks up the drums to play with Eddie in his band, or really any other instrument or any of the above for any other reason. I am always here for musical Steve