#Steve dies

[pukner]

I just had a thought sorry for spilling it here but platonic stobin s5 steve death with orpheus & eurydice-style plotline of robin pulling some improbable scientific and supernatural strings to get steve back and hahahahah um surprise eddie is there too & he’s been helping steve survive in whatever underlayer of life/death they’ve found themselves in because he’s been navigating it for a bit now

hey anon. Anon don't apologize can u please elaborate I'm losing it????

god, robin loving Steve so much she rends apart the veil between life and death. Maybe Steve dies in the Upside-Down. Maybe she feels like some part of her died with him. Maybe she was screaming as the gate closed, reaching out desperately for the other half of her heart, maybe she had to be held back, had to be told, robin, you can't bring him back. Robin, please, he's dead already, please.

Maybe it's like Robin died. Maybe she's the one doing the haunting. Maybe she's being haunted. She hears him laugh in her ear as she fumbles a conversation. Hears him hum his favorite song when it comes on the radio. She smells his shampoo in the breeze. She can't sleep, because sometimes she feels the weight of him against her back, like they're lying back-to-back again, like they did in Starcourt. Back when they were giggling children waiting to die.

Maybe she looks drawn and pale and won't talk to anyone. No one sounds right. No one gets it. She has a Walkman, plays his favorite song on a loop, like she's been cursed.

She hears his voice on the radio instead of Dancing in the Dark. She follows his laughter in the wind, bad dad jokes and terrible puns, down to the scar where the gate was.

She doesn't know how she gets through. All she has is Springsteen and his bat. She can't sleep without either. She doesn't sleep much anyway.

She wanders this corpse of a world, empty without Henry to fuel it, and waits. Sings Total Eclipse of the Heart in a stupid muppet voice. Sings Springsteen. Narrates all the things that have happened since the gate closed, but only the funny bits. The happy bits. Not that she's been there for them, but.

She hears him sing back, croaky and amused. She doesn't dare look. She hears him laugh when she fumbles the words. She can't hear to turn her head to where the voice is coming from. Can't bear to see nothing at all.

Slowly, she gets up and walks to the gate. She hears footsteps, someone singing with her, and she can't bear to look, and she's shaking and she thinks she might've lost her mind.

You sit around getting older, she whispers, voice hoarse. It's been hours, she thinks. Days, maybe.

There's a joke here somewhere and it's on me, Steve sings back, and he sounds real. And then--

I'll shake this world off my shoulders, someone else joins in, and Robin shakes.

Come on, baby, the laugh's on me, they all sing, and they sound like home.

She makes it through the gate on unsteady legs. She stumbles forward, into the burning sunlight, into a world alive. Nearly plants on her face, but then strong, real arms catch her. Someone laughs in her ear, warm breath on her face.

"Oh, Rob," says Steve, and she can feels his tears on her shoulder, "Oh, bud. I gotcha. I got--"

She spins around and hugs him, a sob ripping out of her throat. Another pair of arms encircle them, and she looks up. Eddie Munson, haggard and worse for wear, grins down at her.

"Heya, Buckley," he says, "Hope you didn't mind me crashing your cute little lovers' reunion."

"Gross," she says, instead of bursting into further tears, "We're not like that."

"Yeah," says Steve, tucking her face into his neck, where she can smell salt and iron and dirt, "She's, like. The other half of my heart or whatever, doesn't mean we're dating."

"Oh, good," says Eddie, brightly, from where he's plastered to the pair of them like a gangly limpet, "Because I've spent all of our shared undeath sucking face with the other half of your heart, Buckley, and that might make things awkward."

Robin snorts out a laugh, and alright, now she's crying again. She tightens her grip on Steve, listens to his heartbeat, feels the pulse in the hollow of his throat, the rumble of his chest as he tells Eddie Munson to shut the fuck up.

Her Walkman's still playing. She's holding her heart, and his annoying boyfriend. She's no longer haunted, no longer haunting.

[a-little-unsteddie]

hello, hello, are you lonely?

WARNING: this is gonna hurt. like, a fuck ton. like i cried a lot while writing it.

loosely based off of the song ‘Mr. Forgettable’ by David Kushner. if you want a hint before reading, listen to that song.

(also tagged: Major Character Death)

—

As all things in old age are, it was slow at first.

Steve would forget where he placed his keys the day before, or he would forget where he put the remote, or something similar. Things that on their own, didn’t really mean anything but a busy, distracted mind. That coupled with forgetting conversations that happened earlier in the day and forgetting important dates that he never would have normally forced the rest of the party to accept that Steve was declining mentally with his age.

At first, it was easy to pretend that nothing was wrong. Steve, outside of those moments of confusion, was still himself. He would play with the grandkids, he would cook, bake, do all of the things he loved doing.

Then, Steve started to forget people. Places. Time.

Eddie and Robin did their best to take care of him, make sure he was comfortable, but it was clear to everyone that Steve was declining. In the end, they had to admit him to the hospital, knowing that neither Eddie nor Robin were getting any younger. The rest of the party had argued, saying that one of them should take care of Steve, but Eddie and Robin knew they had their own lives—and when Steve was lucid, he agreed that he should be in the hospital.

That was three months ago now.

Since then, there had been plenty of rough patches. Days where Eddie and Robin would go in, and Steve would only recognize Robin, or the other way around. Days where Steve would ask for his mother, even though he had been cut off in his early twenties, and had been dead for a decade at least.

They (Eddie, really) had figured out that music helped Steve remember, but there were days where not even Eddie playing guitar would bring any recognition across his face.

It was like any other day, both Robin and Eddie were visiting, the kids—albeit, the kids had their own kids by this point, as mentioned—took turns visiting, and today Dustin was meant to be visiting later. It was an off day, meaning Steve barely recognized Eddie, let alone Robin. Eddie brought his guitar, as he did everyday. He had yet to get it out, testing the waters to see how Steve was doing.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie said, sitting next to him. The television in the room was playing softly in the background, some movie Eddie vaguely recognized. Steve’s gaze flickered to him, recognition flashing for a moment before he smiled warmly at Eddie.

“Hey, Ed,” Steve responded, smiling vacantly as he turned his gaze to Robin. “Who ya got with ya?” He asked, which caused the pit in Eddie’s stomach to sink deeper. Robin felt sick to her stomach at the thought of Steve not remembering her, but she knew he had no control over what was forgotten. She knew he was grasping at sand, holding tightly onto what he did have even as more slipped away.

“Hey, dingus,” she whispered, trying not to cry. It never got easier to be around Steve like this, but she would never abandon him to go through this alone. She knew his greatest fear was dying alone, forgotten in a hospital room, left to rot. She would die before she let that fear come true.

“This is Robin, you know her,” Eddie reminded gently, watching Steve’s eyebrows furrow as he tried to place a face to the name, but came up blank.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said to her, feeling it was important to let her know he was. He knew she was important, as he felt happy upon seeing her, but beyond that, there was nothing. He reached out to both of them, wanting to hold their hands. Eddie choked back a cry, putting his hand into Steve’s, who instantly laced their fingers together. Robin gripped Steve’s other hand tightly, smiling even as tears fell down her face. Steve smiled and went back to watching whatever was on the television, rubbing his thumb along their hands.

Robin looked at Eddie, “Where’s Dustin?” She asked softly, not to disturb Steve. The others had managed to visit in the last week or so, but Dustin was finally just able to get a flight in that day, so he would be the last one in this batch of visitors.

Eddie looked away from Steve’s face to look at Robin. “His flight was delayed, he should be arriving around 5.” Robin looked at the time, 2:12. She nodded, settling into the hospital chair next to Steve’s bed, content to watch whatever movie Steve was. Her eyes widened. It was Back to the Future. Her face crumpled, but she quickly schooled her expression into something less devastated. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“This is a good movie,” she said to Steve, who nodded.

“Me and my best friend were really high when I watched it the first time,” Steve said, which was just another stab in Robin’s heart. That was her that Steve was talking about. She let out an unsteady breath, closing her eyes tightly. “It’s still my favorite.”

“It’s my favorite, too,” Robin said in return, smiling softly at her best friend. Steve looked at her and grinned before turning his attention back to the TV.

An hour or so later, Eddie brought out his guitar. Steve lit up at the sight of the acoustic guitar, smiling excitedly.

“I love when you play, Eds,” Steve said excitedly, to which Eddie grinned.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie said, playing a few chords. As he played, Steve seemed to become more aware. After a few minutes of playing, Steve looked around with a frown.

“Where are the gremlins?” He asked, looking around the hospital room.

Eddie and Robin paused what they were doing to look at Steve in surprise. It had been several weeks since he asked after the kids using that term. It was something that he had lost early on in his decline. Eddie and Robin looked at each other apprehensively, eyes wide.

“Oh—Dustin, he’s flying, so he’ll be in soon. Lucas is visiting family up state, Max and El are with him. Mike and Will are looking at houses this week,” Eddie informed him, smiling warmly as his husband seemed to come to life.

“Good! I miss them,” Steve said, smiling. “It’ll be nice to have everyone around again. It’s been too long.” He said, leaning back against the bed.

Eddie and Robin made eye contact, smiling grimly at each other. They would take what they could get from Steve, but they knew this moment of clarity would soon pass. They had long since stopped hoping he would retain the clarity, having those hopes squashed early on in the process. The doctors had informed them that as he worsened, these moments of clarity would become less and less, and then would get one big moment of clarity before passing. Every time that Steve would remember, Eddie and Robin held their breath.

“Eds, can you play our song?” He asked, looking at his husband with such fondness, and who was Eddie to deny his husband anything?

“Of course, Stevie,” he said, beginning to strum the correct chords to the song. Steve hummed with it, looking at Robin.

“This was the song we danced at during our wedding,” he said, sighing deeply. “The best damn day of my life,” he said softly, smiling at Eddie.

Eddie smiled softly in return, “Best day of my life, too, baby,” he agreed with a nod. Steve laughed brightly, motioning Eddie over, who went closer easily. Steve pressed their lips together in a sweet kiss, causing Robin to pretend to gag even as joy filled her entire being. Moments like these it was easy to pretend that nothing was wrong, that Steve wasn’t sitting on his deathbed, waiting for the inevitable. Like they weren’t waiting for the inevitable.

“Oh, hush, Robbie,” Steve scoffed, which only caused Robin to laugh at him. Steve settled back against the bed, content to listen to the music that Eddie was playing. Robin felt like she was flying, though she knew this clarity wouldn’t last, she would savor it as long as it lasted.

The following hour was filled with Steve, Robin and Eddie talking and laughing about shared memories, reliving their youth through their memories. It was so rare that Eddie was able to see his husband—not literally, he saw him every day, he more meant that he so rarely saw the husband he married, so often he was lost in the fog inside his mind. Eddie was thankful for every moment they shared, knowing they were going to come to an end eventually.

Steve seemed to get more tired, settling down for a nap as Eddie played. He was still holding Robin’s hand and his other hand resting on Eddie’s knee, which was the only part of him he could reach without distracting Eddie’s playing.

“Hey Eds?” He asked, fluttering his eyes open. Eddie hummed, looking at Steve fondly. “Could you play our song again?” He asked, voice weak and quiet. Eddie’s guts twisted, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line as he started strumming the familiar chords.

“Yeah, Stevie. Always for you.” He said softly, trying to control his breathing as he played.

“Mm,” Steve hummed in return, his eyelids fluttering shut. “Love you, Eddie dear,” he breathed, before stilling.

“Love you, too, Stevie darling.”

—

disclaimer: probably unrealistic alzheimers/dementia, sorry! i based some of it off of my grandpa, but he didnt have those, he had a different thing due to agent orange in the war?? i can’t remember—parkinsons?? maybe? either way, so loosely based off of that and what i read about alzheimers/dementia.

[chaosgremlinmunson]

STWG 10-19-2023

Prompt:Blood

Eddie is licking his lips, why does his mouth taste like iron? He runs his tongue over his teeth and pauses as he realizes his canines are impossibly longer and sharper, he inhales, sitting up and looking down at his chest. Huh, when did he get undressed, and whose blood is this? He glances over beside him and sees Harrington laying on the ground chest barely rising and falling. "Shit, shit, shit. Stevie, Stevie, can you hear me big boy? Fuck! No, no, no, no, no." Eddie feels himself panic and without thinking bites his own wrist pushing into Steve's mouth, this has to work. It has to. It always works in the movies, he can't lose Steve yet, not before he ever even got to tell him how he feels. He whines and Steve's breath stops, if his heart was beating it would have stopped with it. He feels fear deep in his bones, and he cradles Steve's lifeless body to him, tears falling down his cheeks. He sobs, and then feels the body struggling against him. "Oh, thank fuck!!" He breathes even though he no longer needs to pull in the air, and looks down at Steve who's glaring up at him, eyes shining a brilliant yellow. "Fuck you munson, let me go." Steve snarls still struggling, "you fucking killed me." Eddie sobs again, letting him go and watching as he runs from the house, he doesn't know how to fix this. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

[slowandsteddie]

The One Where Steve Harrington Dies

Here's something I started awhile ago. I'm not sure how to expand on it, or if I even want to. However, I'm trying to clean out my drafts and I don't want to just throw it in the trash.

Which means that we are here now.

CW: The title pretty much covers it. The death isn’t “fully” described, but. Yano, gotta cover those bases.

396 words.

Steve took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and squared his shoulders.

Okay.

He could do this.

He looked back to El, whose nose was bleeding profusely.  She was being propped up between Mike and Will.  Lucas and Max were off with Nancy and Robin, trying to see if they could find any weaknesses to exploit.

They were all going to die if he didn’t do something.

He had to do something.

“Eddie,” he said suddenly.  He turned his head to look at his boyfriend of three months and said something he hadn’t said before.  “I love you.”

“I— Steve.  No.  Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”  Eddie’s eyes were so wide, so brown, and so full of tears.  He tried to close the distance between them.

Steve let out a watery laugh.  “I love you, Big Boy,” he returned that phrase that was normally directed toward him.  “Don’t let any of our shitheads follow me, because I’ll never forgive you if anything happens to any of them.”

He ran.  As fast as he could.  He couldn’t let this drag out and give him a chance to realize how horrible of a decision he was making.

He slammed into Vecna/Henry/One, whatever you wanted to call him.  And the full brunt of his weight was what it took to send that monster back into the Upside Down.

Steve fell in with him and the gate closed behind him with a finality that he tried to not let get to him.

Trapped.  One the wrong side.  With a male who wanted nothing but death and pain.

The world was crumbling beneath his feet.

“You fucking idiot!”  Vecna shrieked.  “You’ve ruined everything!”

“What, you can’t connect to and destroy my world now?”

Steve dropped to his knees when the ground shifted beneath him.  He knew that he was going to die.  And he was okay with that.  Because his friends were okay.

Eddie was okay.

They’d live, they’d move on, they’d be okay.

There was the screeching of bats in the distance and vines wrapped around him and he didn’t fight it.

Things were falling now.  Trees, buildings, the ground.

He choked.  He closed his eyes and pictured Eddie’s face.  Tried to let it be the only thing that he thought of while he lost his air, his lungs began to burn, and everything went black.

[chloesimaginationthings]

I can’t believe FNAF movie Mike never got paid

[thecommonthreads]

When anyone says Eddie's death was pointless you can refer them to this Stranger Things 4 Alternate Ending.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

writing fanfiction is just fingers clenching over a keyboard as you ferally mutter i just want this little guy to be held, damn it and proceeding to hurt said little guy (gn) for about 10k words before you actually give them their hug

[minaiguess]

stranger things anyone?

[aca-sonia]

Original👇

[xoxoladyaz]

Wayne Munson only gives Steve his blessing once he realizes that since dating Steve, the amount of fruits and vegetables that Eddie consumes on a weekly basis has skyrocketed. (Eddie doesn’t know that he’s eating fruits and veggies because Steve hides them in the meals he makes like he does with the kids.) When Eddie does finally realizes what Steve’s done, he has a meltdown that rivals Mike when he’s cut off from calling El. It’s only when Steve points out that Eddie is being a real Mike about it that Eddie settles down and starts acting like an adult (re: complains unceasingly to Gareth about it until Gareth finally tells him that if he isn’t going to appreciate everything Steve does for him then Gareth is going to steal his man.)

[danadaria]

Steddie Olympic AU where Eddie gets on his first Olympics for BMX freestyle, and it's so weird because he has been in competitions for many years but nothing like this, something so big and with so many rules.

His background was being a hyperkinetic kid who didn't really care about his life, and somehow being fearless and doing acrobatics became his career. Still, even then it wasn't so serious.

His thing were the X-games and open exhibitions, with fire, hard rock & metal, tattoos, and having RedBull as a sponsor.

Behind the adrenaline he and his friends are a bunch of clowns who just wanted to fly and have the bones of a child forever.

But now he's here: in the middle of a giant line in an ocean of other athletes, wearing a fucking blazer from Ralph Lauren and with the lamest jeans he had to wear in his entire life.

And everything is kinda awful, because he lost sight of friends (Gareth and Max, both skaters, but they train in the same place), and he just heard there's no McDonald's at the Olympics this year.

He doesn't even like McDonald's so much, but god, he grow up hearing about athletes eating hundreds of burgers and mcnuggets for free, and sue him, but his inner child was super excited about it.

"Are you ok, man?"

Eddie opens his mouth to give a snarky remark when he sees the most beautiful man in existence – GORGEOUS v-shape, honey eyes, pink pouty lips, and kissable moles– looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything is okey-dokey" He says lamely.

The most beautiful man in existence snorts at him.

"Okey-dokey? What are you? Five?"

"Probably. I was sad because I found out today there's no free McDonald's this year. Now that I know I'm not sure if it is worth being here"

Eddie's future husband looks surprised for a second and laughs at him.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course. I read some people ate so many nuggets they left the Olympics cackling like a chicken: I wanted to be one of them!"

"Oh, yeah. I ate lots of them post-competition"

"See?!"

"Ok, I give you that. But this year there's going to be international cuisine and all that jazz"

"Knowing me, I'm going to get too overwhelmed with the options and I'll end with the saddest oatmeal every day."

"You have lots of food opinions for someone that's on a sports event"

"Well, is either that or thinking that my biggest rivals are a bunch of 15-year-olds from Brazil and Japan."

"Oh? What's your sport?"

"BMX freestyle"

"That's the race in the mountains?"

"That's literally BMX racing."

"Right." He looked ashamed.

Eddie needed to fix that look, now.

"And you? What's your poison?"

"Poison? You mean my sport?" Eddie nods at him encouragingly. "Gymnastics."

"I can see it." Eddie looks at him approvingly, "You have the arms of a gymnast, big boy."

The face of Eddie's future husband turns a beautiful shade of red. And Eddie is just a second away to ask for his name, and his number to change the course of his life, when he feels a hand on the jacket's collar.

"Here you are, loser. We need to go this way!"

And before Eddie can say anything, Max Mayfield (his new arch-nemesis) takes him away from the love of his life.

He says bye with a hand before being cruelly separated, disappearing into a sea of people.

"Do you want to be murdered before or after the opening ceremony, Red?"

"Oh, shut up loser."

____________________________________________________________

Steve is going back with his best friend to their apartment, feeling super frustrated. Somehow, 24 hours ago, he thought it would be a good idea to give his phone to his best friend for the inauguration night to avoid getting too excited and watching videos of the event until 4 am.

And now he was regretting ALL his life choices.

"You don't understand Robin, I met a super cute guy, but I couldn't get his name! I'm only going to search that and nothing else"

"Steve, you made me swear I wouldn't pass your phone on inauguration day, no matter the reason. You need to sleep"

"Easy for you to say. You didn't meet someone when you didn't have your phone!"

"I would understand better than anyone! I met the cutest girl competing at air riffle, aaaand I didn't have my phone either!"

"You gave her your presentation card, didn't you"

"Yes, sorry."

"See? Why didn't you make me buy some for me, too?"

They arrive at their floor. Steve knows they're a little obnoxious, but it was the first night and it's still early.

"Good night, neighbors! Isn't it too early in the event to be fighting?"

Steve looks up so fast, he probably hurt his neck a little bit. At the end of the hallway, sitting on the floor next to a very closed door, was Steve's meet-cute: All smiley, charming, and inviting.

"It's you!"

"Oh! Hi Mr. Gymnastics, and hi unknown lady."

"It's Robin Buckley," She says and goes straight to her apartment, "we probably going to see each other again, so good night".

And she closes the door firmly behind her.

"I didn't have. I mean. I don't have my phone to search for you."

The other boy looks at him, almost evaluating him, before giving Steve a big smile and offering his hand to stretch.

"Eddie Munson."

"Steve Harrington."

"So, would you-"

"There's a McDonald's near where I compete tomorrow. Would you like to go with me?"

Eddie stands up and walks until he's in front of Steve. He smiles.

"Would love it. After all, it was my childhood dream."

Steve smiles too.

[hairmetal666]

TW for internalized homophobia and related bad decisions

Steve is 12 and he thinks about finding his soulmate all the time.

You're supposed to find them through touch; your life together will flash in front of your eyes. They're rare, though, soulmates. So rare that most people never find theirs. So rare that some people say they're made up.

Steve wants to be one of the lucky few. He wants it to be a true, unbreakable bond, a love he gets to have forever.

He wonders if he'll find his soulmate at school. He's popular, he thinks. Tommy would say they were popular. But Tommy's definition of popular mostly has to do with the number of kids he can get away with being mean to, and that's not really Steve's deal. Tommy is like a prey animal, the way he can find weaknesses.

There's a new boy at school. Steve doesn't know his name, but they have English together. He's too thin, with huge brown eyes, and all his clothes are too big. His head's been inexpertly shaved and he never looks anybody in the eye. It's only a matter of time before he catches Tommy's interest, and Steve wishes he could stop it somehow, but he's never been good at going against Tommy.

The day comes, of course. They're standing in the hall, the new boy walking towards them, head down, as always. Tommy nudges Steve says, "What a loser."

And Steve shrugs, starts to ask Tommy about football, if the Colts can make the Super Bowl, but the boy is nearing and Tommy is cackling.

"Watch this." Tommy sticks his foot out.

The boy doesn't react fast enough. He falls forward with a bitten off yelp, and Steve moves without really thinking, only knows he can't stand to see him fall. He catches the new kid beneath his armpits, Steve's thumbs brushing the soft skin his arms.

The world around him falls away at the touch.

---

He's sitting on the floor in the band room, Eddie--the boy's name is Eddie--next to him. Eddie's hair is a little longer and Steve's in a green polo he doesn't recognize, and he's never been in the band room in his life. They're leaning into each other and laughing and Eddie's so beautiful.

---

They're in the woods--Skull Rock, Steve thinks. Eddie's hair is curled and frizzed around his chin, and he's laughing, his cheeks pink, his dimples prominent. He tries to pull his hair in front of his face, but it's not long enough yet to reach. Steve is overwhelmed, wants to kiss him so bad. He's never had to wait to kiss someone, or been unsure, or--

He wants to kiss Eddie.

So, he does.

It's hard, desperate, not the first kiss Steve expected, but then they've been waiting for so long.

---

Steve stands in the hallway of Hawkins High. He's wearing a striped, beige short-sleeved polo, and flirting with Nancy Wheeler.

He likes Nancy, she's pretty and smart and fun. And it's easy. He can hold her hand. Can introduce her to his parents. Can take her on dates and kiss her in public.

She bats her big blue eyes at him, and he can't help but kiss her.

He pulls away gently, brushing his thumb against her cheek, and when he looks down the hall, Eddie is there, frozen. His mouth is wide, his eyes glassy.

Steve thinks the way his heart stutters must be what dying feels like.

---

He's sitting on his diving board, facing away from the pool. He smokes a cigarette and there's a bat studded with nails at his feet, what the fuck. Music thuds, shrieks and laughter seep into the cool night air.

He should be playing the gracious host. He should be having a good time. Instead, his eyes search the woods and he taps another smoke out of the pack.

"Harrington?" The voice makes him jump, hand flexing around the bat handle. "It's freezing out. What are you doing?"

He recognizes the voice now, doesn't turn, doesn't respond, can't stand to see another person he let down; another person who could call him bullshit and be 100% correct.

"Do you not have a jacket? C'mon, man."

Something warm settles over his shoulders, and he inadvertently breathes in weed and leather and cedar. He squeezes his eyes shut, like that will make the comforting, familiar scent go away. He'll have to move to shrug off the jacket, though, which would mean acknowledging Eddie's presence.

"Can you at least say something, Harrington? You're freaking me out."

"I'm fine, Ed--Eddie." The nickname falls from his lips too easily. He doesn't miss how Eddie flinches.

His hair is long now, down to his shoulders, brittle looking in the cold. He's wearing a t-shirt and worn flannel, arms wrapped around his chest for warmth now that his jacket is draped over Steve's shoulders.

Steve is an idiot. He's such an idiot. Chasing after Nancy when Eddie is--

"I'm sorry," he says. He turns to face his soulmate, then. "I'm sorry about Nancy, I--"

Eddie jerks back like he's been hit. "Fuck you, Harrington," he snarls.

---

He sits in the back of an ambulance, eyes swollen shut, face throbbing. He's wearing a sailor suit for inexplicable reasons, which is almost more upsetting than the ambulance. He smells like puke and something toxically sweet.

A girl is with him, one he doesn't recognize, but he feels deeply, instinctively protective of her. He holds her shaking shoulders tight, tries to whisper comfort to her through his busted and bleeding mouth.

He's pretty sure he has a concussion.

"Steve!" Someone screams over the sounds of the EMTs and firefighters, of the building burning and collapsing behind them.

Eddie bursts through the gathered onlookers and past the ring of police cars enclosing them. He's falling into the ambulance before Steve has a chance to react.

"Sweetheart," Eddie sobs. He tries to cup Steve's face, but his fingers flutter around the damage. "Sweetheart, oh my god. I came as soon as I heard. Are you--what can I--"

Steve stares at him--his hair falling from its messy bun, his cutoff Metallica tee, concern and love leaking from those brown, brown eyes--and bursts into tears.

---

They sit on the roof of his house, sharing a joint back and forth. It's chilly, bordering on cold, winter just on the horizon. They're laughing, leaning into each other, and Steve is--he's happy. Elated. Could float away with it.

Robin--Robin-- is in the bathroom, or maybe in the kitchen for snacks, and it's just them for now. They're looking at each other, smiles wide, eyes bright.

They're taking it slow. Steve knows it's important, after what he did. They talked about it, his abandoning of Eddie for Nancy, chasing what his dad told him was normal and expected.

He doesn't want to cross any boundaries, wants to do this right. How Eddie deserves. But they're leaning into each other and they're smiling, and he's so in love. Intoxicated with it, lost.

In the end, he doesn't know who makes the first move, just that they're kissing and it's like coming home.

---

He's in a building, a shed or something. It's musty and dirty, smells like oil and gasoline and a building left closed up too long. Eddie's in his arms and he's talking through hiccuping sobs.

"I didn't save her, Steve. I didn't help. I just left her there! She was broken in pieces and I--I--"

Steve holds him close, tight, squeezes his eyes closed to stop his own tears from falling. He never wanted this for Eddie, never wanted him involved. Thought he could protect him from all of Hawkins's terrible things.

They aren't alone. Robin is there, coming up to hold Eddie too, plus a redheaded girl and curly haired boy he doesn't recognize.

"We'll figure this out, Eddie." The boy promises.

"We won't let anyone hurt you. We know you didn't murder Chrissy," the girl says.

---

Steve is in a world he doesn't understand, and Eddie is his arms. Eddie is in his arms, and there's blood everywhere. He's not awake, he's not--his heart beat is soft and slow, too slow, and his breathing stutters, and Steve can't--

"Baby, stay with me." He begs as he runs across the dead and rotting landscape. "Eddie, please. Wake up, okay? Wake up for me. I need to--I need to know that you're alright."

Eddie stays limp in his arms.

"Please," he begs. "You can't leave me. We promised, remember? We promised we'd be together forever. The rest of our lives. Me and You. Our six little nuggets. You promised."

The portal back to Hawkins is less than a dozen feet away, he's so close. Eddie gasps to consciousness, but his eyes are still hazy.

"Hi, sweetheart," he mumbles.

"Hey, hi, you're doing so good. We're almost out, okay? We're almost out and we'll get you to the hospital."

Eddie reaches out a weak hand, touches the edge of Steve's jaw. "Love you, Stevie," he whispers. "Glad you were mine."

He goes still in Steve's hold.

---

The images come faster now--

A hospital room at Hawkins General, Eddie hooked to machines. Steve holds hands with an older man. They wait in terrified silence

Eddie propped in a bed, a bunch of kids around him, Steve and Robin at his side. His eyes keep sliding to Steve, like he's making sure Steve's real, that he's still there

Their bodies tangled together in a bedroom Steve doesn't recognize

Steve down on one knee in a marble room lit only by black and red candles, Eddie standing in front of him

Hand-in-hand on a cliffside overlooking the ocean. The Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, stands in front of them with tears in his eyes and a beaming smile on his face

In a big, green yard behind a cozy little house. A little boy with Eddie's eyes and curls riding on his shoulders. Eddie sprinting around with a tiny girl giggling after him, perfect imitation of the King Steve hair-do on her tiny head

In a park, surrounded by family and friends. Steve has a little bit of a paunch and wears glasses. Eddie's hair streams around his shoulders, going grey at the temples. There's a banner strung between trees proclaiming 'Happy 20th Steve and Eddie!' They're surrounded by everyone they love and it's perfect

---

The images flash too fast for Steve to catalog after that, seconds-long glimpses of a shared future, and then he's back in his body in the hallway of Hawkins Middle, still holding too tight onto Eddie's arms.

Eddie rears back, face pale and terrified, and Steve is too shocked to do anything but let him go.

Tommy's yelling, but Steve only has eyes for his soulmate, who scrambles to his feet and throws himself down the hall away from them.

"What the hell, Harrington? Why'd you catch him? That was about to be funny as hell! I bet he'd have broken his nose--you ruined it!"

Steve isn't listening. He's trying to hold on to the memories of their life together, the ones that are already fading.

The last thing he remembers is that, sometime in the not-too-distant future, he'll find his way to the band room, Eddie Munson, and the rest of their lives.

[morganbritton132]

Eddie is just trying to film a Tiktok to remind his fans about some upcoming shows but trails off when Steve says off-camera, “Hey, remember that RadioShack guy that was banging your mom?”

Eddie: *flips camera around to show where Steve and Jonathan are sitting on the couch*

Jonathan: …Bob.

Steve: Yeah, him. That toe guy from Lord of the Rings looks exactly like him, right?

Jonathan: …

Jonathan: Gollum???

Eddie: Toe, as in Po-tay-toe. He’s talking about Sam

Steve, snapping his fingers: That’s the guy

Jonathan: Oh.

Jonathan: I don’t see it.

[digoload]

rest well, technoblade

Technodad asked us to make tributes for his 25th yesterday. It's not much, but if you're still going through it, I hope this helps.

Take me through the mist and stumps And waters that are still unknown Under guiding starlit sky We will learn how to say goodbye

[stevieschrodinger]

Eddie runs the second he gets a chance, face still wet with tears. The branches whip him and the brambles scratch him, but he doesn't stop. He runs from the trailer, from the strange man there who says he's Eddie's uncle.

Eddie doesn't like how he can feel the breeze on his shorn hair, misses the way it used to tickle his ears and cheeks; it should be flowing behind him as he runs. It's not his fault he shifted into an Alpha wolf; he'd screamed and screamed when they'd shaved his head, but his father could not have him nearby. He's a threat to the pack now. To the leadership. He calls everything into question; Eddie had to go. He had to go far away.

He finally slows, scenting the air. Something good here. Something nice. Something that calls to Eddie's wolf. Something that smells of awesome and amazing and forever. The scent trails through the trees, and Eddie follows it to where the scent grows thick, and falls through the trees onto a perfect lawn.

Steve hates the stubble on his head. Rubs it again. Can feel his exposed scalp burning in the sunshine. He doesn't understand; it's not his fault he hasn't shifted. It's not his fault he was born without the wolf. He's been shaved to shame him, and he swears from that moment on that when his hair grows back he's going to take such good care of it. He will show them, wolf or no wolf.

It's just not fair, Steve wipes his tears and snotty nose, and tries not to think about the look on his father's face, "Steven you have disgraced the bloodline of our pack."

The way he'd turned his back on Steve, left him alone. He had no wolf to comfort him. Steve sniffles again, then startles when a boy comes out of the tree line.

His head is shaved, just like Steve's. He's got tear tracks on his face; just like Steve.

"Hello," the boy tells him, approaching like he hasn't just walked onto private property, "we're going to be best friends."

Steve nods, he could use a friend right now, and takes the boys hand.

Eddie comes back. He promises he will and he does. He comes back every day for weeks over the summer. They watch films and build forts and climb trees and play in the pool and explore the woods and lie on the lawn in the sunshine and Eddie never, ever asks why Steve's been left alone in this big house, even though Steve's only seven years old.

It's the end of the summer when they get caught, and Richard Harrington gets Eddie by the scruff and snarls something about "the Munson runt."

Steve screams, tries to follow them, doesn't understand what's happening or why Eddie's being taken away.

Eddie snarls back at Richard Harrington, even as he hangs from his fist, and Steve's never seen anyone do that, not ever, not anyone in their pack would dare challenge the alpha.

Steve, suddenly realises that Eddie must have a wolf.

It's too late.

Steve has the best hair in all Hawkins. They don't call him Steve 'the hair' Harrington for nothing. He taps the table, bored. Patsy is twizzling her hair and making eyes at him and he wants to fast forward and get through to boring date and to the mediocre fuck so that he can kick this girl out and get a decent night's sleep.

He cuts her off - goes to the bar. He's going to need a stiff drink to get through this.

The shock of being pushed over makes him cry out, the pain in his neck makes him yell.

Steve blinks awake in a strange bedroom, the side of his neck is throbbing. His shirt is gone, but he's still wearing his pants. His shoes are on the floor next to the bed. He touches his neck cautiously - it's been bandaged.

He can't remember much. Just falling, and pain.

Someone screaming.

He leaves the room carefully, slowly, creeps along the hall, follows the sound of voices. Doesn't make it to the open doorway before someone's coming out to meet him, she has choppy ginger hair and a big smile, "hey, I'm Robin, you doing okay?"

"Steve...and I've been better," he says, following her into a room for of people. A rag tag bunch of teenagers, some younger then Steve, some his age, and a handful of adults, all his parents age or older.

"You must have questions," and older lady says kindly, "I'm Joyce."

"Yeah...where am I and what happened and then probably another fifty after that."

Next to him, Robin snorts.

"You might want to sit down honey," Steve does, "so, first things first. The big thing is that...werewolves exist. They're real. We all turn into wolves."

Steve blinks.

"You're taking this...well."

Clearly these people have no idea who he is, and now is not the time to reveal that, "I'm...in shock?" He tries, weakly.

There's a ripple of reaction through the room, a lot of muttering and elbows, no one's buying it.

"Hmmmm." Joyce looks speculative, never the less, they carry on, "Robin?"

"We were out. For drinks, you know," she gestures vaguely at the group, "and Eddie he just, he just fucking lost it, he-"

"Wait wait wait," Steve might not have a wolf, but he can't ignore his instincts, "Eddie? Munson?"

You could probably hear a pin drop.

All the memories of that summer hit Steve at once. He focuses on the last one, Eddie being dragged away. Eddie fighting to get back to him. "I need to see him."

"Kid, he bit you. He tried to mate you, you don't understand what that means. He attacked a human, there's rules-"

And Steve might be a runt, he might have been excluded from the pack for over a decade, but he still knows the punishment for attacking a human. Eddie's going to die, and Steve will not let that happen, "absolutely fucking not. I'm a Harrington, and Eddie is my mate."

[stevebabey]

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !