#and sometimes! he’s there before eddie himself!

[hitlikehammers]

eddie doesn’t understand how steve can ♥️love♥️ him (eddie is frequently worryingly oblivious with a side of ✨self-worth issues✨)

“I’m dead weight.” Eddie’s voice is so fucking tiny, it almost undercuts his resolve. Almost. But it’s a fucking fact, so his useless resolve doesn’t actually matter either way, which is kind of a comfort. Until Eddie blinks, and between lashes fluttering Steve’s in his face. Leaning over him, caging him in not with his arms so much as the heat of him, the weight of his presence more than any part of them presently touching. And still those fucking eyes; stars could be born inside them. Eddie just wishes he deserved a future where maybe he’d get to watch a whole new one burst into life, where he’d deserve that kind of privilege— But he wasn’t exaggerating. He is dead fucking weig— “I know what it feels like when you’re the closest you’re ever gonna fucking get to dead weight,” Steve somehow bites it out so sharp while sounding so level, just stating facts like his eyes aren’t on fucking fire: “This is nothing like that.”

rating: t ♥️ tags: established relationship, post-s4, softness, fluff, tiniest bit of angst because of eddie’s headspace, eddie has self-worth issues, true love, fitting each other’s jagged edges♥️, romance, happy ending 💕

for @steddielovemonth day nineteen: “Love is putting up with someone's bad qualities because they somehow complete you.” ― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

Eddie’s staring at the popcorn ceiling, gnawing on the pick hanging from the chain around his neck: yellow—blindingly so, couldn’t miss it if you tried—in place of the old one.

Steve told him it wasn’t good for his hair to chew on it. Eddie doesn’t think he absolutely loves the way he’s replaced the habit, but. It’s symbolic: Steve in his sunshine-y wardrobe, the way he’s Eddie’s sunshine always, the way Eddie wants basically any and every part of Steve in his mouth at all times—

See? It makes sense; it shakes out perfectly logical.

But there’s good reason Eddie needs the sunshine, his sunshine, and a constant reminder snug against his chest: his head’s prone to going dark places, now, ever since—

Well. Ever since.

It’s basically the main reason he sometimes just…sighs and throws himself farther back into the still-stiff-but-slowly-braking-in cushions on the sofa, in this also-still-too-pristine-but-a-valiant-work-in-progress living room, and huffs, half-disbelieving, wholly-disgusted:

“How the fuck do you put up with it, man?”

“Hmm?” Steve hums distracted, distant, not even in the same room because he’s washing dishes, or else, rinsing them before the machine does the work which Eddie will never understand. Eddie hadcleared the table, so he hadn’t been totally useless, but…

But.

“How,” Eddie flicks the chain where it sits atop his shirt, pulled out now, watches the pick float for a second; “do you,” and he tries to make himself not pull the thin ball links into an angry new brand inside the divot-line of the scar already around his neck:

“Put up with it?”

Eddie doesn’t know if something about his words shifted, his tone, or if Steve’s just knows him, or if the dishes are just done now.

But Steve’s in the doorway with his hip jutted toward the frame of the opening, his sleeves rolled up but still damp at the edges, his hands not helping where they cross over his chest.

“With what?” Steve asks, lost; cloudless. Oblivious.

Which, to Eddie’s mind, is just…absurd. Because the answer is right there.

Right fucking there:

“Me.”

Eddie’s moods. His rambling. His stubbornness. His nightmares. His inability to even get so much as a sit-down for a job around here. His freakish interests. His woefully limited ability in the kitchen. His uselessness in cleaning up: too little, too cluttered. His wild sense of most things in the worst ways, at the worst times. His general billboard-sized advertisement of ‘Waste of Space: Steer Clear, You Can Do Miles Better’.

How the fuck do you put up with me?

So it is almost obnoxiously conspicuous, sticks out like a goddamn sore thumb, right?

“The hell did that come from?”

Or not.

Steve’s not standing in the doorway anymore.

“I just,” Eddie swallows, because Steve’s eyes on him are intense, low, laser-focused and Eddie’s suddenly not entirely sure how much of what just cycled through his head maybe came out through his mouth so he settles on a sanitized version, a middle-of-the-road sort of example that gets the point across but…anemically:

“I’m always lounging around while you’re doing actual things, y’know, contributing,” he throws his weight back into where he’s doing exactly that just now, gesturing to the suds on Steve’s arms near the creases of his elbows to illustrate the stark difference: “where I just stare into space and try to plot twisty-turny things that’ll trip the shitheads up next session,” and he shrugs, looks back up at the ceiling because Steve’s never something he wants to look away from, ever, which is why this hurts so much to wrestle with.

But right now, those eyes on him are…a lot.

“I’m dead weight.”

Eddie’s voice is so fucking tiny, it also undercuts his resolve. Almost.

But it’s a fucking fact, so his useless resolve doesn’t actually matter either way, which is kind of a comfort.

Until Eddie blinks, and between lashes fluttering Steve’s in his face. Leaning over him, caging him in not with his arms so much as the heat of him, the weight of his presence less than any part of them presently touching.

And still those fucking eyes; stars could be born inside them.

Eddie just wishes he deserved a future where maybe he’d get to watch a whole new one burst into life, where he’d deserve that kind of privilege—

But he wasn’t exaggerating. He is dead fucking weig—

“I know what it feels like when you’re the closest you’re ever gonna fucking get to dead weight,” Steve somehow bites it out so sharp while sounding so level, just stating facts like his eyes aren’t on fucking fire:

“This is nothing like that.”

Eddie’s throat tightens, his stomach drops.

“Steve,” Eddie chokes, a hand fraying to clamp around Steve’s wrist held rigid.

“You know what I mean,” and yeah he begs it a little. He didn’t mean that.

“I do,” Steve nods, never looking away, barely blinking. “But I meant what I said,” then he softens a little, turns his hand in Eddie’s grip and bringing them palm or palm, seeming to study their hands and Eddie doesn’t get it, doesn’t know what he’s looking for—just kinda knows his heart in his throat, and the way the world feels more right, maybe the only right it has in it at all, when Steve’s hand’s in his, in any way at all.

He’s holding on to that certainty, that feeling that always puts up a hell of a fight against all the dark in Eddie’s chest, just inside the warmth of that hand.

So he startles a little, when the words break through, so close:

“You have no fucking clue, do you?”

Eddie…Eddie only knows that he blinks. Only knows how to blink because: what?

Which he supposes answers the question; seems to clearly enough that Steve huffs, shakes his head, lifts up like he’s going away and Eddie’s blood runs frigid—no, no, the part of him the suspects this end result isn’t ready, he’s not strong enough yet—never will be, but maybe closer, maybe—to stand up and fight back to hold and keep—

But then Steve’s crossing his arms, leaning back on his heels as he looks Eddie up and down, reads him like a book as he’s somehow learned to do; somehow cared enough to learn to do—

Then he’s settling across Eddie’s lap, strong thighs bracketing Eddie’s hips on either side as he lifts broad hands to cups Eddie’s cheeks the same, hold him in place—but he doesn’t have to.

Those eyes are steel; more than enough.

But the lips that land on his forehead, so soft, are both wholly at odds but…perfect.

Eddie feels something unspoken inside him start to tremble; prepare to crumble.

“The stuff you like? All the goddamn noise choseyou pay for on cassettes?” Steve smirks as Eddie squawks a little in instinctual protest, not even something he consciously decides; but it earns Eddie those lips pressed now to the corner of his own—so: maybe not just instinctual, possibly Pavlovian before Steve leans in to whisper:

“It plays at a pitch I can barely hear anymore.”

Eddie pushes back into the couch to meet Steve’s eyes, chest tightening again because: he didn’t know that. He’s wondered, sometimes, just little quirks, but now his heart twists because his Stevie’s hurt, something is wrong with his Stevie, and what is it, what does it mean, will it get worse, will it be—

“Too many knocks to the head,” Steve taps that same head gently with a crooked grimace and all Eddie wants is to grab those hands and move then, it’s not a thing to take lightly, but Steve’s just shrugging as he pushes on:

“They actually don’t expect it to like, get worse,” Steve reads him, as ever; “but there are just certain…”

He makes an ear-piercing sound in the back of his throat that sounds nothing like Eddie’s music, and he’d take offense, if…he wasn’t still reeling with the revelation Steve’s just set before him.

“It kinda sounds like office music,” Steve says it like a confession, like he’d been holding on to that admission and is only letting it out now in a time of dire need; for Eddie.

“Almost…pleasant in the background,” his nose crinkles a little. “Soothing almost, because it’s familiar,” then his features go smooth and lax, and he grins small, fond before he breaks Eddie’s heart not least because he stretches it bursting too fucking fast:

“Because it’s you.”

And that’s…that is—

“I don’t really like exciting food,” Steve’s plowing onward, now, purposeful and on a mission, hands not yet leaving Eddie’s cheeks: keeping him right where he is.

Keeping him.

“I like predictable food. I really do believe fried chicken is a worthwhile meal as a treat,” he shakes his head in the way he has when he remembers a time that’s not so long ago but feels like a different life after everything; Eddie tucks it in his back pocket to ask about if the right time ever comes, just because every part of Steve is a thing Eddie aches to know.

“Your kitchen skills are perfect,” Steve pokes his chest with real force to it, and Eddie’s wondering how much of his internal running commentary was maybe accidentally voiced aloud—or if Eddie’s just known that well, in a way he’s never had before. “They’re always just what I want, and they taste special because I don’t always expect it, because I think you’re shy with it because you think it should be something grand or whatever,” and again, Steve soften, leans to pop a kiss to the top of Eddie’s nose:

“But it is something grand, dumbass,” Steve murmurs close; “because you make it for us.”

Something warm and kinda…kinda like, expansive? Like it’s alive and growing and spreading through him in time with still-shaky heartbeat that wants to believe the dark things that rise in his head are don’t hold sway, the warm-thing in his belly that’s spreading up and around the rest of him feels like it’s trying to convince him that yeah.

That’s all any of it is. But still—

“Did you know I used to get pissed as fuck every laundry day?”

Eddie whips back into the present; frowns up at Steve’s solemn expression.

“You love laundry day.”

Steve hums a little mournfully, but there’s a twitch to his lips that gives him away.

“I don’t own enough bona fide darks for a full load,” he laments mostly tongue-in-cheek, but most in the just-over-half sorta way, because almost-most of him is genuinely lamenting that state of affairs,

“I either had whole parts of my wardrobe waiting weeks to wash in a corner,” Steve literally shudders at recalling it, the dweeb—and fuck, but Eddie loves him; “or I ran like, quarter-loads at best.”

A cardinal sin. Absolutely unforgivable. His poor poor Stevie.

His Stevie, who’s pecking at his lips with a bit-back grin and glowing eyes as he comments pointedly:

“Don’t run into that problem anymore, do I?”

And the way the words land, like Eddie’s a good thing, something that adds to Steve’s world in a ways that may look small but that Steve feels mean something. It’s, it is…

“I love it here, you know. With you,” Steve says like the second half’s the only part that really matters, and the spreading warmth has made its way through Eddie to wholly swirl around his heavy-thumping heart; “but before you moved in?“ and that’s the first time Steve glances away, even if it’s only a second, and Eddie grips for his hand again, hard this time—the fear in him still breathing, even if it’s for a death rattle to it, for the sake of the man on top of him.

“You have no idea how much I used to dread the drive home,” from Eddie’s, from him and Wayne, where they still spend nearly half the week even if this is home base, and Eddie could never have imagine what it would mean, how it would feel to hear that said out loud; “the part of the day that’s supposed to be the best part, the relief after everything,” Steve shakes his head, glances around and grips Eddie’s hand back to match in strength:

“It was a tomb in here. It fucking echoed.”

And the warmth in Eddie’s chest seizes a little: heartbroken on principle, Steve’s hurting always more devastating than his own could ever be. Livid that this man could ever have been left alone that way. Enraged that he hadn’t noticed, stopped it.

“I used to play little games, with myself, like,” Steve licks his lips; “how long would it take for someone to notice if I died in here.”

The warmth in Eddie’s chest retreats in an instant, because just…just that idea in the world—Eddie’s heart remembers what almost losing Steve feels like.

And Steve’s not talking about reality, sure; but he’s also not talking about almost.

“It’s big enough that the stench would take forever, like, for the neighbors,” Steve reasons in the most rational voice saying anything but: “and—”

Eddie’s hand on Steve’s must be painful, or maybe it’s the way his nails might be digging in hard enough to draw blood because Steve stops, looks down at their hands and then softens, looks apologetic but only just, like he…like in all of this he knows he’s hitting painpoints, not the biggest ones but not the easiest ones either, and he means to.

He’s making a point of what he sees instead of dead weight.

But still—

Eddie’s breath catches when Steve brings his hand up to kiss his knuckles, and doesn’t ease the hold between them one bit for doing it.

“I know it’s probably legitimately psychotic to rinse the dishes when that’s why I buy the good detergent,” Steve exhales between Eddie’s fingers; “part of it’s habit, from,” his eyes dart, and Eddie knows the look: he’d deck Harrington Senior, and maybe just give Mommy Harrington the stink eye until she folded, he’s not sure—he just knows he hates them, for the toll they took on Steve.

“Beyond that, though,” and Steve’s features brighten in an instead, curl a little sly and flush a little pink on the apples of his cheeks: intoxicating:

“Mostly it’s just so I have a good angle to watch you, right here,” Steve knocks his shoulder against the back of the sofa. “Being you. Doing things that make you, you.”

And fucking hell, but the way he says all that like it’s almost a gift.

“Your nightmares break my heart,” Steve turns Eddie’s palm to kiss there, to speak deep into the lines; “but if I can make you feel even the slightest bit better? Safer?” He kisses one more time before he draws their joined hands in between them, rests them safe between both their laps.

“It makes me feel less like I’m just mooching off you for doing the same for me in return,” Steve shrugs, but he’s earnest, he means that, and that is so not how any of that even works—

“That’s not—” Eddie stats but Steve cuts him off with his lips, dirty fucking pool.

Goddamn effective, but such a fuckin’ cheat.

“Maybe we both have stuff we still gotta work through,” Steve sighs, shrugs again a little, like their stuff doesn’t include death and dying and monster and apocalypses—and maybe the fact that it doesn’t doesn’t matter, because it doesn’t change a goddamn thing.

“But then maybe I believe with every bone in my body that even if I have to spend the rest of my life working through it? Doing it with you, both of us doing it together,” and Steve smiles at him, a delicate thing because it holds almost too much love inside to stand:

“That sounds like kinda the best life. With you.”

And Eddie regrets only one thing in what he does just then, because it breaks that delicate smile by design.

Because he surges straight up and kisses those lips and breaks that delicacy wide fucking open so he can taste it; drink it in like manna, like ether, like something that can bring him back to life.

The way Steve kisses back and shakes Eddie’s pulse in wild ways for the force, the feeling: it’s no less than exactly that.

“Your rambling is how I know life’s okay, that the world’s spinning,” Steve pants between them when they shift position, before they dive back in; “it’s like how you know your own heartbeat like, like when I used to do swim, or how you get ready when shooting a basket, or plain…shooting,” he hugs and then Eddie’s too greedy to keep any distance, too needy to wait any longer to taste Steve on his tongue a little longer, a little more.

“I only paid attention when I needed to focus,” Steve barely breathes as they both have to concede to a breather, to literally steady their lungs, and he presses down at the center of Eddie’s chest to balance, maybe, but Eddie suspects it’s most to make his point:

“But you know when it’s fucking off, not quite right,” and then Steve stares at his hand on Eddie’s heaving chest, eyes a little glassy for a minute as he whispers, kinda broke :

“Or when it’s missing.”

Eddie slaps an uncoordinated hand on top of Steve’s and helps him feel closer, feel more, the vessels and the chambers and the valves or whatever; the only place Eddie trusts them—only places he ever could—is in these hands.

“You’re that,” Steve declares simply, lifting his lashes before his gaze.

“You just,” he swallows hard, a little; “I understand more now than at the start. I want to keep understanding more, but,” and Eddie gets it, what Steve’s inching toward—Eddie’s lived with his story close to the chest, held tight and safe but Steve’s closer, now, and it’d be hard to hide from him, even if it hasn’t always been easy letting it free, story by story, card by card.

But it’s Steve. And any hard thing is worth it, if Steve’s the endgame. At the very core, there’s nothing he wants to hide from Steve.

It’s just more been about the things he’s too afraid to let anyone see, because they’re too much, they be the final straw, and he—

“It’s more the you part, than the what. The fact that it’s you, whatever there is to know.”

And that’s where Eddie’s gonna work on it, because he wants the same in return. For the first time in his whole life, Eddie Munson is giving his all to this. To them.

Maybe they’ll stumble. They already do. But fuck if it hasn’t been a revelation to know he’ll always be picked back up in less than a heartbeat, and never once be proven wrong.

He doesn’t realize there’re tears involved on his end until Steve leaning down, kissing them away.

“I love you,” Steve breathes into his cheekbone on the right; “all the parts of me I thought I had to hide because they were weird or wrong or not shaped right,” and he pauses then, kisses a little line of fluttery things along the left line of Eddie’s face to match; “you fit where they live like you were made to,” then he kisses, draws a shiver through Eddie’s whole body, when those searing lips trace the line of the scar that’s mostly faded pink, now, but pulls down the lower length toward Eddie’s jaw.

“And all the jagged edges of me that I thought were gonna leave me alone forever,” Steve mouths there, kinda adoring, reverently; “they make where we fit snap into place that much stronger, that much more sure.”

And he looks down at their hands, and lifts them a little, let’s go only enough to clasp loose, like a businessman might to seal a deal.

“Not like this,” he says, definitive; “like this,” and he locks their grip then, finger braided across finger, tight and automatically feral against the force he puts on trying to pull it apart when he’s done, to show it; to prove it:

“Not going anywhere.”

And Steve’s eyes are still flame-bright, still intense to the point of stealing breath but it’s not stealing when it’s given free, when Eddie wants all of him to be Steve’s, for always. Not dead weight. The same weight in the same body. The same soul twined together; the same fucking beating heart.

“You get it?”

And Eddie nods, as best he can, before he catches their hands—unbeatable—between their chests this time to kiss Steve until the love in him is the only taste Eddie even knows.

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divider credit here

[whoahoney]

brothers best friend!Eddie reading your diary while he's balls deep inside of you.

Note: Surprise bitches. 😏 Idk if anyone's gonna read this, ive been on HIATUS 5ever, but this is something I wrote while recovering from dental work high as balls. I hope you enjoy! I'll edit further when my phones charged.

Warnings: smut (18+) minors DNI, slight humiliation kink, secret hookups, kinda fluffy 🫶🏻

------------------

It had been a couple months of your sneaky schemes, Eddie sleeping over and sneaking into your room to "chat" for a few hours after your brother fell asleep. You and Eddie had always been close, but finding your place amongst your brother and his friends could be hard sometimes. So for the most part, Eddie sought you out, finding you around the house to shoot the shit.

Neither of you could tell who started it, neither of you cared. All you know is that one night, he was on your bed, your legs in his lap, his hand on your thigh, the weed was good and your faces were achingly close to each other.

Neither one of you fought before giving in, it was natural as can be.

so of course you just

kept

going.

Since then, any time he could manage to make his way to your room (or walk in on you in the shower), he was there, ready to unbuckle his belt and bend you over.

He loved working in and out of you, setting a brutal pace for himself since he never knew how much time he had with you. He often fantasized about the day he'd be able to take his time with you. Simmering on the idea of massaging your pussy til it was slick and gaping for him, wondering if you'd let him lean forward and lap it all up.

You weren't quite sure what to make of it all, it felt like just another thing you two did together. At least that's how you assumed he felt. The usual glimmer in his eyes as he sauntered into your room never changed, regardless if he was asking for popcorn and a movie or seeing your tits.

You didn't really care, you just liked being around him.

and you quickly found out you were more than willing to do casual if that's what he wanted.

Often times after he left your room, you tried to write about it in your diary to make sense of it all. At first it was passive thoughts about your hang outs, wondering if it meant he saw you as a friend or something more, but ever since you started messing around, its all you ever write about anymore.

Details from the way he made you feel, how long his dick was, and your innermost feelings about him were all in there, no holds barred. You'd never imagined that he'd care enough to read it, let alone what he was about to do next.

He had you face down in a pillow, hand cradling the nape of your neck, your skirts flipped up and over your back, panties discarded in the knotted up bedsheets. You're panting, the air around you is thick and sweet despite the lingering cigarette smoke clinging to his person.

"Oh, I love seeing you like this," He says under his breath as he grabs a handful of your ass. "Face down, ass up, that sweet pussy spread open around my cock," He pressed deep inside you, trembling as he relishes the softness of your walls and you give him a sweet whine. "Shh--not so loud, sweetheart..." His hand found its way into your hair, winding it around his fist and pulling it taught. Your mouth opens with a silent gasp.

He looks to the left and spots the familiar leather bound diary you're always scribbling in, and with a sudden urge, he grabs it up.

He lets it fall open to the place where you left your pen clipped to the page, which happened to be the latest entry about him.

The way it feels when he's inside me... I crave it. I think about him all the time...

He smirked to himself, quickening his pace and pulling your face up to see the page he's on, "You like me so much,I made the journal-how cute.." He cooed into your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, sending tingles down your spine, your fingers clenching the pillow til you knuckles turned white.

You were so lost in him that you couldn't even speak, your cheeks flaming with embarrassment as he read aloud, "His touch feels like electricity, he makes me feel alive..." He softly chuckled before letting his teeth graze against your neck and biting down and making you clench around him.

"His dick is so long and hard, it hurts sometimes, but I never want to tell him to stop or slow down, I'll take whatever I can get from him. It's so pathetic. I'M pathetic. But do I care??" He recites in his best impression of you as you hide away in the pillow, he chuckles to himself before remarking, "My dick makes you feel pathetic? tsk, aww..."

Then his eyes skimmed over a passage, and he slowed as he took the time to read it, "I want to be around him all the time. For more than these moments we manage to steal-but I don't know if he feels the same way... maybe it's just casual. Maybe he does this with a lot of girls." His heart swells in an unfamiliar way, a smile fighting its way onto his cheeks.

"You're too kind- really," he chuckles as he tosses it to the side. He lets go of your hair and brings both of his hands to your hips, pulling himself out almost completely before shoving back in with a grunt, his front slapping your ass.

"I don't have a diary, but I will tell you this-" He withdrew himself and flipped you over settling between your thighs before sliding in with ease. You inhaled sharply at the fullness, your chest heaving. He licks his lip before pulling up your shirt, freeing your breasts to bounce as he pleased.

"There isn't anyone else I'm doing this with..." He pressed his bare chest against yours, looking deep into your eyes. His fingers gently smoothed your hairline as he worked a slow easy pace in and out. "Right here, with you, is my favorite place to be..." He whispered, nose to nose- working himself in and out in and out at an agonizing pace that dragged on deliciously. "I love being with you in any way I can get it." He admitted into the darkness.

Your eyes are huge as he plants a kiss on your lips. You open your mouth and nudge his tongue with yours, wrapping your legs around his waist as he plunges in with fervor.

"Aww, my pussy makes you feel pathetic?" You quietly mock with a smile.

"Aw, that's my girl," He mumbles against you, his embrace tightening around your torso, and thrusts growing more and more eager as he chases his orgasm and yours.

[thepossummoldypasta]

Okay okay, the people have been heard, part 2 of the accidental baby acquisition thing (part 1)

Sometimes Steve wonders how his life turned out this way. Most of the time the omega jokingly says it’s all Dustin’s fault. This time it’s definitely Dustin’s fault.

Steve kicked the kid out after he cracked wise about Eddie being in a coma for 9 months—He did it nicely under the pretense of the pup being sent to find a nurse, but he’s forced out of the room all the same—now he’s desperately attempting to get Eddie calm.

The heart monitor is complaining loudly at Steve and the alphas breathing isn’t giving him any comfort, and it’s all around not an ideal situation. Steve shifts the baby (still asleep thank god) so he has an arm free to offer Eddie to scent. The movement catches the other man’s eye, and when the alpha he turns his head Steve can see Eddie’s crying.

“Oh Eddie.” Steve croaked “No, don’t cry. Dustin was just being a dick—you’ve only been under for six days—everything’s alright.” Eddie finally accepts Steve’s arm but instead of scenting he cradles it with shaking hands and doubles over awkwardly against Steve’s shoulder.

“Stevie,” the alpha sobs “Stevie.” He lets Eddie cry it out for a minute or so.

“Do you want me to walk you through what happened?” Steve offers.

Eddie nods against his neck; yes.

“How much?”

Eddie leans in even further, lungs drawing as much air as they can hold; everything.

“Nancy blew Vecna’s head off, but uh, we could tell something was up.” Steve grimaces “so, so I got worried and went to grab you and Dustin.”

Eddie stiffens as Steve talks, but doesn’t give any other indication that he’s heard enough, so Steve keeps going.

“ I found you just outside the trailer park—I don’t know if you remember it but the bats kinda beat your ass—I got to you before Dustin did thank god ‘cus it was gnarly. They, the bats, they nicked an artery so there was a lot of blood. We managed to drag all of us out through this new gate that spat us out at the Creel house on the right side, I don't know how that happened by the way…uh what else…there was an ambulance there because Carver’s gang broke Erica’s arm. The EMT guys were so freaked out when they saw us they shoved all of us in the back of the ambulance and hauled ass here—“

“Wait,” Eddie buts into Steve’s rambling explanation, “Erica got hurt? Who else got hurt? Is—“ now it’s Steve’s turn to interrupt.

“Everyone’s gonna be okay Eddie” Steve promises “The pups have a few minor breaks between all of ‘em but nothing serious. You and me got the worst of it.” Apparently not the best thing to say because Eddie jerks back with a whine, frantically checking over Steve’s injuries.

“You, I, WHAT?” Eddie, well, he screeches, unfortunately waking up the baby with his noise (the omega can’t stop himself from shooting him a dirty look for it).

“We’re both out of the woods now that you’re awake.” The omega reassures while soothing the tiny puppy’s cries. “There’s the bites, obviously, but none of them on you or me were particularly life threatening apparently. Although you lost enough blood to go into cardiac arrest—” Steve thinks he could put it nicer but there’s no point sugar coating it “the doctors did put you in a coma so you could recover but you were out less than a week, nowhere near nine months” Steve rolled his eyes at Dustin’s shithead antics.

“As for me, apparently the bats had some kind of venom that was rattling around long enough to cause some nerve damage and speed up this weird genetic thing I apparently have that messes with connective tissue. Now I’ve got this sweet new ride to help on the bad days but that’s about the worst of the damage ” Steve pats the armrests of his new chair, the one Jack helped him adjust to be his and not the one on loan from the hospital, and smiles in a way he hopes makes Eddie believe “bad days” will only happen some days instead of most days.

He expects Eddie to laugh at the attempted joke, or maybe crack a watery smile, But the alpha starts crying with renewed vigor.

“Is that why? Stevie is the puppy okay? How could Nancy let this happen?” Eddie gasps, reaching out to hold Steve’s face. The omega leans softly into the hold, but he’s soooo confused.

Before he can ask what the hell Nancy has to do with any of this,Jack waltzes through the doorway with a sheepish Dustin in tow. If that brat thinks that going out of his way to find Steve’s favorite nurse will get him out of trouble, he’s got another thing coming.

“Well now, sleeping beauty is awake.” Jack grins politely “I’m Jack, nice to officially meet you mister Munson.”

“Uhh, yeah, back atcha” Eddie nods

Jack ruffles Steve’s hair as she passes him on her way to Eddie’s IV line. Over the past few days She, Steve, and the others have grown close. The baby had imprinted on her as part of his pack, and the baby is part of Steve’s pack, so on and so forth until they all shared a bond. It’s nice.

She checks the levels of Eddie’s saline drip, and the numbers on the monitor that Steve can’t remember the meanings of no matter how many times it’s explained to him. Whatever they say must be good because Jack looks relaxed when she turns back to Dustin who’s haunting the entrance to the room leaning on his crutches (Steve resolutely tries not too give him pity points for the broken ankle).

“Alright kid, clear out.” she chimes,“I got to give your friend the full checkup and it’s feeding time.”

Jack clearly tacked on the last bit to get the stubborn pup to leave, and once upon a time it would have embarrassed the hell out of Steve, but it serves its purpose as Dustin turns heel and calls out that he’s going to visit Max.

Jack checks Eddie’s reflexes, then she has him push against her arms, follow a pen with his eyes, and tap her palm as she moves it around. All that good stuff to make sure Eddie’s brain still works right. Everything seems to be fine, the only exception being Eddie’s heart rate seemingly picking up when Steve takes his shirt off to feed the baby. Jack laughs under her breath when it happens though, so it must’ve been fine whatever it was.

“Alright Mr. Munson, you’re looking good. Your whole merry band still is being kept under observation otherwise I’d say you’re free to go. Do you have any questions for me?” Jack asks as she slips off the gloves she donned before she ran her tests. Eddie nods.

“When did Steve have the baby?” What?

“WHAT?” Steve crows, Jack’s absolutely no help as she’s too busy cackling to set the record straight. “I didn’t have a baby, Eddie!”

“But—you—You’re literally holding a baby right now big boy! And you smell like a mom!” Eddie retaliates, but he’s keeping his voice low so he doesn’t disturb said baby. That’s sweet actually.

“That’s my fault I’m afraid” Jack chuckles “he was supposed to be looking after baby nameless for me temporarily, but the little guy had other plans and decided Steve here was his new Ma. What you’re smelling and seeing right now is the result of that baby doing a very good job of convincing Steve’s body they’re his puppy”

Eddie’s mouth is hanging open on a broken hinge, Steve watches him collapse back into his bed. He would think the alpha brain dead if he wasn’t just given a clean bill of health.

“So you weren’t pregnant when we were in… you know?” Eddie prods weakly

“No, I was not knocked up when we were in the Upsidedown!” Steve shuts that line of thought down as quickly as he can, Jack might be “in the know” thanks to her job but Steve does not need his new, basically older sister, to know he did the hanky-panky with Eddie in an alternate dimension.

“Oh thank Jesus” Eddie sighs and he’s so lucky that Steve’s beginning to think he’s in love with the idiot (and that he’s a little too distracted burping the baby to smack him). “What’s the baby nameless thing about?”

Steve goes quiet for a second. Not bad quiet, just shy quiet. It’s kind of an embarrassing question to answer. Jack lets him know she’ll be right outside if he needs her, but he’s been shyly waiting for this moment and just waves her off with an appreciative look.

“He technically doesn’t have a name, before he imprinted I was only really allowed to nickname him” Steve starts “but now he’s my baby so I can name him whatever I want. I’ve had a name picked out for a while but I wanted to talk to you first. Jack’s been trying to guess the name for days now and she’s been calling him that to try to annoy me into spilling the beans” he says with a snort.

“Why did you want to talk to me first?”

“I want to name him Theodore, after you?” Steve admits but when he looks to where Eddie is propped up against his pillow the alpha sucks in a breath between his teeth. “What? What’s with the face?”

“Eddie isn’t actually short for anything, so uh it wouldn’t really be naming him after me” Eddie says hesitantly “But! But I think Theodore is a great name!” And he smiles so brightly at Steve, the omega has to kiss it off Eddie’s stupid little face.

A week later the whole group is lounging in the ward’s common room just waiting for time to pass.

The roads are back open and the town is slowly knitting itself back together. Owen’s says that his team is waiting on one more thing before they all finally can go home. The older teens haven’t said anything to the pup’s yet, they don’t want to jinx anything, but it’s looking like home might be one of the recently vacated houses for packs instead of where they lived before. Steve thinks he’ll sleep easier having everyone safe under one roof, that at least some good will come out of so much of his family being left displaced by the “quakes”.

Steve’s cozy on a squishy couch with Robin tucked against his one side, Mike and Will are tangled together on his other, he’s even got Theo napping on his chest. God it’s a far cry from the nervous buzz that thrummed under Steve’s skin at the beginning of their stint in the hospital. He basks in the calm that comes with the rest of the pups piled on top of Eddie taking a nap instead of being obnoxious. Nancy has even huddled together with Jonathan and Argyle.

It’s really nice except for one thing nagging at the back of Steve’s mind, he hasn’t seen Jack or El for a while.

“Hey Steve?” Oh, speak of the devil and all that, Steve thinks as Jack pops her head into the room. “Your adoptive dad is here looking for you.”

Steve looks at Robin then to Nancy and Jon. It’s very clear that none of them know what she’s talking about.

“I don’t have an adoptive dad?” Steve replies.

“Okay rephrase. A man, who is not Harrington Senior, and who matches your emergency contact information is at the visitor’s desk asking for his kid, who he says is you.” Jack doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before El slips into the room her dragging with her—

“Hop” Steve cries weakly, the name catching in his chest. No matter how much he blinks Hopper is still there. Will bursts from Steve’s side and launches himself at Joyce Byers, who Steve hadn’t even noticed was there, Hopper is here.

Steve somehow manages to get on his feet. Theo, the sweet angel that he is, doesn’t even fuss at the abrupt movement, instead he coos at the newcomers as if he’s confused why they haven’t started fawning over him yet.

Steve is pulled into a side hug the literal second Hopper’s close enough. Steve missed him so much. He hadn’t told anyone about how in the early days of his parents leaving him home alone he would sneak over to the police chief’s trailer because he was afraid being by himself. Or about how many nights the man spent driving him to or picking him up from the hospital after Steve’s dad got too drunk. Nobody knew how confused Steve was after Starcourt, when he didn’t know how much he was allowed to grieve. But now Hop’s back, and Steve missed him.

“Please tell me I’m hallucinating the baby” Hopper laughs into Steve’s hair. He laughs like he doesn’t know how else to react, which is fair, but he also laughs like it’s the first time he’s laughed in a while so Steve doesn’t really mind.

Very helpfully, Mike pipes up with “Thats Theo.” At the same time Dustin says “That’s Steve and Eddie’s puppy.”

Steve barely has enough time to playfully warn Eddie to run before it’s too late.

——————————————————————————————————

Sorry for the wait, I wasn’t really planing on continuing this so it to a while to figure out what I wanted to do.This is going up on my Ao3 as a one shot at some point by the way, so maybe look out for that I guess. I hope you enjoyed!

[dippindaz]

Hi again :) could I request another Eddie X reader? Maybe they’re walking home at night and reader asks to hold his hand for comfort?

All your ideas are so damn cute!!!!!!! Just fluff ahead :)

The night always felt different when you were walking through it. During the day, the streets of Hawkins were familiar—quiet, a little boring, but safe. At night, though, everything changed. Shadows stretched longer than they should, swallowing the spaces between streetlights. The trees whispered secrets you couldn’t quite make out. Every little sound—crickets, a rustling bush, the distant bark of a dog—felt sharper, like something unseen was lurking just beyond your vision.

You weren’t afraid of the dark. Not really. But sometimes, it made your imagination work a little too hard.

The gravel crunched under your sneakers as you walked beside Eddie, the two of you making your way to your home from another long night at his trailer, where he’d spent an hour going on about a new D&D campaign while you half-listened, curled up in his pile of mismatched blankets. The warmth from that moment still clung to your skin, but out here, in the open air, the night’s chill crept into your bones.

You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket, shoulders hunched slightly against the cool wind. Eddie, in contrast, walked like he always did—relaxed, confident, as if the night held no power over him. His rings glinted under the flickering streetlights, his movements casual as he talked about something you weren’t really hearing anymore.

You wanted to focus on him. On his voice, on the way he gestured wildly when he got excited. But your mind kept drifting—kept catching on the feeling of something unseen watching from the trees, on the way the night seemed a little too quiet, as if it were holding its breath.

You picked up your pace slightly, walking just a little closer to Eddie without thinking about it.

“You good?” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you realized he’d noticed. Of course, he had.

“Yeah.” It wasn’t really a lie. Just an omission of the truth.

Eddie didn’t buy it. He studied you for a moment, then smirked. “You sure? ‘Cause it kinda seems like you’re afraid the boogeyman’s about to jump out and snatch you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not scared.”

“Oh, really? Then why are you practically speed-walking?”

You forced yourself to slow down, but the unease in your chest didn’t fade. You hated this—hated how ridiculous it felt to be so on edge over nothing.

A breeze swept past, rustling the leaves overhead, and you felt your heart jump before you could stop it.

“Can I hold your hand?” The words left your mouth so quickly you almost second-guessed if you’d really said them.

Eddie faltered mid-step. His smirk faded, replaced with something softer, more curious. “You wanna hold my hand?”

You nodded, keeping your gaze on the sidewalk. “Just for a little bit.”

For once, Eddie didn’t crack a joke. He just reached over and slid his fingers between yours, his palm warm against your slightly cold fingers. His grip was easy at first, like he was testing the waters, but when you squeezed just a little, he squeezed back.

“There,” he murmured. “Now no ghosts or creeps can get you. I’ll scare ‘em off with my metalhead powers.”

That earned a laugh out of you—small, but real. Eddie grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and his thumb brushed absently over your knuckles as the two of you kept walking.

Neither of you let go.

At first, you figured you’d drop his hand once the nerves settled, but as the minutes stretched on, you realized you didn’t want to. The warmth of his palm was grounding, the weight of his fingers laced with yours strangely comforting. It made you feel safe in a way that had nothing to do with the dark.

Eddie didn’t say anything about it. He just kept walking, swinging your hands slightly between you, humming something under his breath. He did that sometimes—hummed when he was content, when he wasn’t overthinking anything, just existing.

A streetlight buzzed overhead as you passed beneath it, the glow casting a halo over Eddie’s curls. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, smirking like he’d just thought of something clever.

“You know,” he said casually, “if you wanted to hold my hand, you could’ve just said so. No need to blame it on the scary night.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t let go. “Shut up, Eddie.”

He grinned. “Never.”

And just like that, the night didn’t seem so cold anymore.

[paceprompting]

citrus and cinnamon

written for ‘scenting’ | wc: 459 # | rated: g | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: alpha!steve, beta!eddie, established relationship, fluff

@stmarchmm

Eddie wasn’t used to the whole scenting thing. Steve knew that.

Both Eddie and Wayne were betas, basically neutral to most of the ups and downs of secondary designations. Eddie had mentioned once—in passing in the way that meant Steve was not to ask more on the subject—that his parents had been alpha and omega.

But Eddie had gone to live to Wayne when he was just a kid, so Steve could only guess that meant Eddie either didn’t remember or never had the experience of being wrapped in blanket seeped in with a comforting scent after a nightmare. Of catching the scent of your person, your mate, just before you saw them. And knowing that anyone else wouldn’t just smell Eddie, but them together.

He was a good sport about it. Let Steve shove his nose into his throat or drape himself over Eddie’s back to mix their scents together. Didn’t complain when Steve passed along clothes for him to wear, especially closer to his ruts.

And now when he caught Steve casting longing glances at a sweatshirt or t-shirt, he handed it over with a soft laugh.

On a good day, Eddie could make out Steve’s scent—what he said smelled like petrichor (whatever that was) and forest pine. When Steve was fresh out of the shower or deep in the throes of his rut.

For Eddie, it was a special treat. Something he otherwise normally went without, and didn’t mind that fact. But for Steve…Eddie’s scent was a constant. He permeated everything, everywhere, that he went.

Steve carried Eddie with him, in his clothes and his memory. They hadn’t mated yet, Eddie’s neck still bare of Steve’s bite. For now, when he needed to feel calm and right, he needed only to reach for whatever he’d borrowed from Eddie and breathe in.

Citrus. And cinnamon. Warm—like mulled wine during a cold winter.

Scent mostly smelled the same whether they were on an object or from the source.

Maybe Steve was reading into it too much. No one he’d dated before had indulged him quite so much when it came to his scenting tendencies, even for an alpha.

But when he had Eddie in his arms, resting against his chest where Steve could press his nose to his wild curls, there was something else about his scent. Something that never transferred over to the clothes Eddie gave him.

It smelled of…content.

Of how Eddie traced his fingers over Steve’s arms, talking softly sometimes, but mostly quiet. Eddie was never quiet, except for then.

Of how Eddie pressed his ear to Steve’s chest to hear his heartbeat.

Eddie had never done the whole scenting thing.

But that didn’t mean there was nothing about Steve he cherished just as much.

[stolenkissesdiaz]

one thing about buck buckley is he’s gonna get into his jeep and drive his ass to eddie diaz’s house

[corrodedcoughin]

How many times has corroded coffin tried to incorporate ‘pyrotechnics’ into their performance (eddie lighting the spray from an aerosol can on fire and screaming because he scared himself. Then the rest of the band screaming because he turned to face them while still spraying the can and almost melting an amp, Jeff’s eye brows and a drum) before they had to be stopped?

[himbosandhardwear]

"Look who's talking, Mr Ponytail and a Crop Top," Steve says with a smartass grin.

Eddie looks down. "Huh?"

"You," he waves toward Eddie's general vicinity, "looking like some kinda Metal Cheerleader." He noticably swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

Okay. This is it, this is the perfect moment to tell Steve he's sending signals that he definitely doesn't understand he's sending.

"Steve," he has to clear his throat before continuing, "I need to tell you something."

He leans in, wide eyed and focused. "Yeah?"

That's not helpful. "Um. So, to guys like me... Gay," he chokes out, still hard to say aloud even though he knows Steve knows, "sometimes you say things or do things that come off as...flirty. And I know you didn't know," he rushes to explain, "but I wanted to make you aware. To not do that. You know, in case the wrong person overhears it. It's a safety concern," he finishes lamely. Safety concern! Ugh. More like 'You're breaking my heart, I can't take much more of it.'

He waits for Steve to say something but he's just blinking owlishly.

"Steve?" He prompts, concerned.

"......yeah?" He finally seems to come back to himself. His eyes drift away, over Eddie's shoulder. "So...you want me to stop flirting?"

"Yeah, just in case, you never know who-" Wait. What? "What?"

Steve still isn't looking him in the eye. "What?" He mumbles.

"Did you say..." He can't even repeat it, it sounds like putting words in his mouth, but he did say that, right?

"Yeah. Sorry. I'll stop. I didn't realize it was bad, I guess. I thought... It's stupid. Nevermind. I'm gonna, um, take off actually. I'll see ya around, maybe."

He hops off the back of the van and actually starts walking away, like they're not 6 miles from his house. That snaps Eddie out of the paralysis spell he was under, adrenaline taking over like a bump of cocaine.

"No!" He shouts, like an insane person, and then takes it one step further by jumping up and tackling Steve into the grass.

"Uggff," Steve grunts when Eddie accidentally shoulders him in the gut, but he ignores the embarrassment in favor of crawling up his body so they're eye to eye.

He gets Steve's face between two hands and smooshes it. "Were you flirting with me on purpose?" He shouts.

"Are you serious?" He mumbles, half coherent, through pursed lips. "I'm gonna jump into the quarry."

"Answer the question!" He rattles Steve's head a little bit, for good measure.

"I work for Scoops Ahoy." Steve deadpans, unamused.

Eddie is going to throw one hell of a tantrum in a second. "Steve."

He smacks Eddie's hands away from his face. Doesn't bother to move out from under Eddie, he notes absently. "Yes, dude, obviously I was flirting with you on purpose! I thought that was, like, an understood thing that was happening. Why are you surprised?"

He feels like he's losing his mind. Why are you surprised the grass is made out of taffy? Would've made more sense as a question.

"Because you're straight." The duh is implied.

Sensibly, he asks, "Why would I flirt with you if I was straight?"

Eddie becomes very aware of every inch they are pressed together. Aware of the sound of the leaves rubbing together in the wind, aware of Judas Priest still playing through his speakers. Love Bites is a hell of a track to be having this revelation to.

"You're not straight?"

"No."

"And you were flirting?"

"Yes."

"With me?"

He rolls his eyes, not an ounce of bitchiness lost to his embarrassment. "No, Eddie, with the crusty blanket on your van floor. Yes, of course with you- Mmmphh!"

They probably shouldn't be making out on the ground at Settlers Quarry in broad daylight but, honestly, the shambling corpse of Jason Carver could show up right now and Eddie would not give two shits. Steve slides a hand down the back of Eddie's pants, grabbing what little bit of ass cheek he has, and Eddie thinks, Hope you're watching from hell, you bastard. Enjoy the show.

[steddiebrainrotramble]

Saw this idea floating around and wanted to write a little bit about it

Corroded coffin has gotten big enough for larger venues now. Steve was so proud of them. He and Eddie had agreed on day one he’d stay with them. He helped manage the band behind the scenes. Steve loved it. He loved the guys and getting to spend their days off exploring different parts of the cities they toured.

It was hard sometimes though, at places like this especially. Sometimes he got migraines and had to come later. Or wanted to step out for a smoke. Large venues like this had large back of the house and green rooms but some times he just needed to get out.

That wasn’t the problem. Getting back in was. Even with his back stage access pass, a lot of the time the venue security refused to believe that the man before them was the lead singers husband.

How could he be? The man in the yellow polo and jeans with perfectly coifed hair at a metal concert didn’t look like he belonged in the venue let alone with the band. And that was his problem right at this moment.

Steve looked up at the large looking men. Two of them, looking unimpressed with him. “Look, I don’t know where you stole that pass from but everyone knows Munsons husband’s name. Get out of here before we throw you out.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. He was trying not to get frustrated. He appreciated them, honestly. He wanted to keep Eddie safe. But fuck he did not want to do this right now. “I appreciate you doing your job. But I’ve got my badge. Call back to Ed’s security. Describe me to them. Hell tell them the shirt I’m wearing, Cj helped pick it out, says it’s a good yellow. Mat says it’s too horrendous but it somehow suits me. Couldn’t tell if that’s a compliment honestly.” Steve shrugged. The guards look unamused.

Finally the one on the left sighs. “Fine I’ll walkie back. If they say they have no clue who you are we’re kicking you completely out and trespassing you. Sure you want to gamble that?” The guy smirked and Steve shrugged. “Go for it.”

Guy walkied for the bands security. “Got a preppy looking guy here. Think he stole a backstage pass.” Steve can hear Cj’s voice crackle over the walkie. “He wearing an amazingly blinding yellow polo?” “Yes…” “That’s Munson’s hubby, let him through.”

Steve just stared at them as he pushed pass, careful to remind himself he had another story to tell Robin next time he called.

[matchingbatbites]

Eddie doesn't like sports.

Well, okay, that's not technically true. Growing up in the deep south left him with an ingrained interest in college football that he's not sure he'll ever be able to shake, but at least he can understand that game. He doesn't know a single fucking thing about hockey.

The rest of the guys had been excited when Chrissy said the band had been offered tickets to see the local NHL team. He was upset by how quickly he'd been outnumbered, but the boys had plied him with the promise of violence on ice, and that was enough to sooth the betrayal, at least a little.

Which is how he finds himself here, smushed between Chrissy and Gareth and not really as engaged as he should be, watching a bunch of men run around on the ice - sometimes literally, which is crazy. There has been a little violence though, so that's something at least.

Eddie blinks when Chrissy hands him a small dry erase board and a couple of markers that she pull from her bag. "What's this for?"

"You're famous, Eddie. The arena staff knows we're here, which means we're probably going to be on camera. I figured you could entertain yourself with some appropriate messages. Appropriate," she reiterates, and Eddie grabs at his chest like he's been shot.

"You wound me! As if I would ever deign to flash the cameras with a message that's anything less than the pinnacle of wholesome!"

Chrissy rolls her eyes but smiles - ever used to his dramatics by now - and just turns back to the game. Right, sometimes it's easy to forget that Chrissy is actually a sports person.

Eddie gets to work on his first message, not entirely sure when they're going to be the focus of the large screen above them. Chrissy glances over to see what he's writing and just sighs, and Eddie can't bite back his grin.

It's actually not too long before the announcer mentions something that isn't related to the game, and then-

"With nearly twelve million monthly listeners on Spotify, please welcome local metal band, Corroded Coffin!"

Eddie looks up to see their faces on the screen and grins as he turns his board around, showing off the LOOKIN 4 HUSBAND he's written in block letters. There's a mix of cheers and laughter from the crowd, and Eddie can't help but give a joking wink to the camera before he's laughing as well.

Chrissy smacks him on the arm and says "I can't believe you," but she's smiling as well. Eddie just shrugs and cleans the message from the whiteboard, freeing up space for him to doodle in between catching glances at the game.

It's a little bit later when a big fight breaks out, and a few players from each team are sent to the- box? The box. Eddie watches the big screen as the camera follows one of the players, tracking the man as he steps inside the little booth and rips his helmet off in frustration and- holy shit.

The guy is fucking stunning; his jaw, his nose, his sweat-damp hair and the beauty marks scattered across his skin like stars. Eddie wants to get closer, wants to know the color of his eyes and smooth the crease between his brows, wants to shove his fingers into that pretty, pink mouth-

And then the camera changes, going back to the players on the ice, and Eddie blinks like he's been released from a spell. He turns to Chrissy, one hand grabbing at her arm as he says "Who the fuck was that guy?"

Chrissy glances at him but keeps most of her attention on the game. "Harrington? He's literally the captain of our team, Eddie. I know you're not super into this, but that's kind of a hard thing to miss."

The man huffs a little as he releases Chrissy's arm. "I know literally jack-shit about this game, Chrissy, nothing is hard to miss."

Eddie takes the chance to re-write his white board before turning it to face outward, hoping that some cameraman will take pity on him and put him back on screen. He's not sure how long Harrington has in what is essentially timeout, but Eddie keeps his eyes on him all the same, glad that they're actually not too far away from the box.

It's a couple of minutes later when the announcer says "Looks like our friends Corroded Coffin have another message, this time for team captain Steve Harrington," and Eddie doesn't need to look to know that the screen is showing his new sign: #14 U R PRETTY. DATE?

He sees Harrington - Steve - look up, and watches as the frustration melts from his face, only for the prettiest pink blush to spread across his cheeks and ears. The guy laughs - and christ, Eddie didn't think he could get any more beautiful, but here he is - and doesn't hesitate to nod, even makes a little call me motion like he knows Eddie's watching him.

Eddie beams and nods back, laughs when the other player in the box shoves Steve playfully and makes a comment that deepens the blush on his face. He gets a couple of shoves and smacks from his own friends and a bewildered "I can't believe you just did that!" from Gareth.

Chrissy leans into him as he cleans the board again. "Hockey's not so boring now, is it?" she says, and Eddie can't help but agree, his eyes never leaving the ice - leaving Steve - for the rest of the game.

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 | 𝐞.𝐦.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Fem Reader [friends -> lovers]

Summary: You and Eddie ditch the party of the semester to fall into something you both know is meant to be [fluff, 3k]

A/N This is just fun, fluff, and feels. Felt like a vibe while I was writing it. This fic is part 1 of 3.

The music vibrates through the floor so intensely that Eddie can feel it in his bones. Even in the sunroom where he and a few others have settled. The small space gives sight to the backyard, where people mingle as they smoke, illuminated by string lights combating the night’s darkness. Those inside the house with him chatter, sing, and toss their heads back in carefree laughter, feet shuffling against the hardwood as they dance.

The entire scene buzzes with the kind of life only Steve Harrington’s place could ignite on a Friday night. One of these days, he swore he was going to loosen up and allow himself to get swept up in it too. 

For now, he watches. Eyes flitting to various faces, but always returning to you. If you weren’t smiling, you were talking, and the way your lips formed around your words was just as beautiful. The two of you spoke briefly when he first arrived, and he could still feel the delighted hug you’d given him over the fact that he decided to come. He wondered what he’d have to do to make it go away, but good thing he didn’t mind the feeling. It was a reminder of how much he wished your nearness could be all his forever.

Longing was a peculiar thing. Selfish in its occupation of his entire being. 

As Eddie takes another small sip from his drink, something fruity spiked with vodka, The Hair himself saunters up in front of him in a pair of slacks and a Polo sweater. Though rather polished for the occasion, it manages to look fitting on him. His cheeks are a little flushed and the metalhead raises a curious brow as his friend stares down at him with a smirk. 

Rebel Yell starts pulsing through the stereo as Steve offers him a hand off the couch. They end up weaving their way out back. The fall air is cool, but not all of summer’s warmth has vanished. A few people wave and greet them as they head towards a pair of chaise lounge chairs. Billy Idol’s voice is muffled as it continues thrumming from inside. Grooving bodies are visible through the windows as the party carries on. 

Steve pulls out a fancy metal cigarette case before they sit, flipping it open with a soft click. Eddie can’t help but snort as he relaxes into the chair. 

Steve’s brows furrow as he slips out a joint and begins lighting it. “What?” 

Eddie nods to the case in Steve’s lap. “Rich people shit.” 

Steve takes the first couple puffs before passing the joint to Eddie. “Jealous?” 

A smile cracks Eddie's face before he takes a drag. The answer is no, he isn’t. Once upon a time, jealousy was all he burned with, even though he was Hawkin’s poster child for no fucks given and had every reason to be grateful he wasn’t worse off. Grateful for Wayne, that he wasn’t in the pen with his deadbeat father, for finally finding solid friends. He had more than he could ask for, and it took growing up to see it. 

Eddie tips his head back and blows smoke up into the night before giving Steve his turn. What he can’t see is that your eyes have fallen on him from inside the house, sparkling and curious as Robin grins by your side. 

“So did I save you back there or what?” Steve asks as he ashes the joint onto the ground. “Looked like you were zoning in and out, man.” There’s genuine curiosity in his gaze though his tone is playful. 

Growing up with parents like his, Steve had gotten good at reading people. They vacationed a lot, but still managed to walk around with arc reactors in their chests whenever they were home. Bound to detonate in the wake of the most trivial inconveniences. Sometimes he wished he could shut everyone and their feelings out, but he wouldn’t quite be himself then. 

Eddie runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Just a bit overwhelmed.” 

Steve takes a thoughtful look around. “These kinda things can be a lot.” 

Not even half the faces outside belong to close friends. There was a magic to it, nevertheless. For a few hours, everyone could throw their worries to the wind as Hawkins, Indiana began to feel less like a nowhere town and more like the top of the world. Lord knows Steve didn’t mind the distraction. 

“Not my scene,” Eddie settles on saying. The joint has found its way back into his hand. 

“Everyone’s got their escape,” Steve says. “You’re just too evolved for this one.” 

Eddie snorts. “Shut up.” 

“Yet here you are in the flesh,” Steve continues, thinking as Eddie smokes. “You should tell her how you feel.” 

Eddie coughs, lowering the joint from between his lips. “Dude. Fuck.” 

Steve bites back a smirk as Eddie recovers, extending his hand for the joint. Eddie refuses, taking another drag out of spite, for himself or Steve he isn’t sure. A distant swell of giggles makes multiple heads turn towards the back door, where you and Robin file outside. There’s an immediate flutter in Eddie's gut as he takes you in, your skirt flowing at your thighs. It takes him a second to realize you two are headed their way. 

By the time you make it over, Eddie has straightened up. Meanwhile Steve remains unphased. “Ladies,” Steve greets.  

Robin wrinkles her glittery nose at him. “Why weren’t we invited out here?” 

Chuckling, he makes room for her on his chair and she plops down beside him. “‘Cause you hate the way weed makes you feel like you’re going insane.” He leans into her with each word until she pushes him away with a helpless laugh.

“It’s the principle,” she counters. 

Eddie motions for you to join him and you smile as you take a seat beside him, bumping your shoulder against his in a gentle hello. When he offers you the joint, you shake your head. Steve reaches for it yet again, but Eddie pretends not to notice, taking another drag. A small smile pulls at your lips. 

“Actually, I think I will take a hit.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate passing it to you. 

Rather than indulging, you hand it to Steve, who laughs in victory. Eddie shakes his head, feigning betrayal in a way that earns a laugh out of you. It’s a sweet, melodic sound. He tries to ignore the way your thigh feels pressed against his, but it’s in vain. Even the vanilla notes of your perfume manage to cloud his mind in the softest way. No matter where he was, if you were near, he would always be painfully aware of your presence. 

It was your invitation that had driven him to this party in the first place. Although Steve’s invite came first, your insistence made him change his mind and say yes. Sweaty bodies and blaring music wasn’t your ideal scene either, but you gave in from time to time and looked good doing so. Earlier that night, Eddie almost hadn’t made it through Dancing In the Dark as you and Robin swayed and jumped around like you were alone in your room. There was something about the freeness of the way you moved that made it hard to look away. 

“Munson’s been meaning to tell you something,” Steve announces, looking straight at you.

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he glares at Steve. Robin glances between the two of them, brows furrowed as amusement plays on her lips. You hug your arms as a cool breeze rolls through, but you’re more interested in what Eddie has to say than escaping the chill. In meeting your gaze, however, he silently begs you not to entertain the claim. It only piques your curiosity all the more. 

“Are you gonna spill or what?” Robin prompts.

“There’s nothing to spill,” Eddie insists, looking down to twist his skull ring. 

Reaching over into his lap, you gingerly take his hand into yours to slip off that very ring. He doesn’t pull away or argue, just watches as a helplessly warm feeling melts down his ribcage. His lips twitch upwards when you put it on your thumb because it’s the only finger big enough. It’s warm from being against his own skin for so long. Robin and Steve share a brief, knowing look.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” There’s hope woven within the lilt of your voice. Eddie chuckles, and you commit the breathy sound to memory as if you’ll need it one day more than you do now. 

Robin slaps her hands against her knees. “Well, it’s getting kinda chilly out here so I’m gonna head back inside,” she says, rubbing her arms as she stands. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tease. 

“I’ll stick to something tame like snooping around in Harrington’s room,” she says as she turns to leave. Steve rolls his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles between the three of you. However, his brows eventually pinch together as he reconsiders Robin’s words. Taking one last drag, he passes the joint back to Eddie.   

“She was joking, Steve,” you assure him, chuckling. 

“No she wasn’t,” he worries as he stands to jog back into the house. Eddie snickers. 

With a soft sigh, you lean back onto your hands, looking towards the sky as silence falls again. There are a few clouds visible in the light of the crescent moon, but the stars are everywhere. Like tiny shining freckles peppered against the face of the night. Part of you wonders if he’ll talk now. 

“What if the stars have been watching us back our entire lives?” you murmur. 

Eddie’s brows pinch together as he looks over at you, chest rattling with a startled laugh. “That’s something to think about.” His eyes are a bit glossier now. “Don’t think I’d mind if that were true.” 

You tilt your head, a smile budding on your face. “You wouldn’t mind billions of little eyes observing your day-to-day life?” you ask. “That’s a pretty big audience.” 

A grin eases across his face, half playful, half cocky. “I’m a pretty interesting guy.”

You lift a teasing shoulder, feigning indifference. “You’re alright.” 

Eddie laughs, but a weighted look flickers in his eyes as he studies you, catching the fondness you hadn’t tried all that hard to hide. Even with the pleasant buzz beneath his skin and somewhat of a looser mind, he can see it clearly. 

“Hey,” you speak up again. There’s a new softness to your voice, something mischievous dancing around the edges. “Wanna get outta here?” 

Eddie blinks like he can’t quite believe you’ve asked, but finds himself saying yes anyways.

••• 

Sitting in the passenger seat in his van, you realize you didn’t think much further than this. The air smells like him in all the best ways. Pinewood and faint cigarette smoke. As the engine rumbles to life, you shift in your seat and peek over at him, your confidence a distant memory. The radio bursts to life as well, but he quickly reaches out to turn it down. You bite back a smile at the fact that his skull ring is missing from his finger because it’s on yours. Eddie settles in with a sigh, turning to you. 

“So,” he says, eyes sparkling and a little red under the glow of the street lights. 

There’s an intensity to the warmth of his gaze. It drives you to hide your face in your hands. Which does nothing to make him disappear, if the way he exhales a chuckle is any indicator. “Stop looking at me, I didn’t think this far ahead.” There’s no real distress in your voice, only giddiness mixed with nerves. 

“Now I feel like an idiot,” you whine. 

“Well, you’re not.” He sounds more sincere than the moment calls for. “And I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop looking at you, so I guess we’re both in a pickle.” 

“A pickle?” You snort, lowering your hands to meet his gaze. More laughter escapes you. Maybe it’s your body's way of not having to address the implication of his words. 

There’s a flutter in his gut as he watches you. It’s like old times, back when you were freshmen who stayed up too late laughing over the most ridiculous things. Except now, you were more than the girl who sat beside him in Biology because you thought it was cool he had a tattoo. You’d grown into a friend, perhaps even more. As composure finds its way back to you, that truth weighs heavy in the small distance between you.  

Eddie clears his throat. “We could hang at mine for a bit. Wayne’s at work.” When you don’t say anything, he bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s up to you.”  

“Sorry, yeah, that sounds good,” you breathe. 

Eddie gears the van into drive, only to put it back in park with a heavy exhale. You blink when angles himself to look at you, opening his mouth a few times before speaking. 

“There is something I need to tell you,” he admits. “No way in hell did I ever think we’d be friends, but you’re the raddest person I’ve ever met.” A lump forms in your throat as his words wash over you. “And you’re so pretty that sometimes I wonder how every guy in the world isn’t giving you whatever you want all the time.” 

You can hear your heart in your ears as you say, “Maybe that’s ‘cause there’s only one guy I want in the world.” 

•••

A small sound of surprise rises up your throat when Eddie backs you against his bedroom door. His apology is hushed against your lips as he continues kissing you, hands gentle where they grip at your waist, feeling along your sides. You’re warm all over as if you’re laid out before the sun, arms hooked around his neck. It hadn’t occurred to him how much he wanted to kiss you until you looked at his alarm clock and realized that it’d probably be best if he drove you home. It was well past midnight. Time had escaped you as you talked and laughed. 

When he does pull away, he studies your face like he’s looking for something. A few seconds pass, and he still doesn’t know what for. Perhaps your smile as it shyly appears. You move your hands to cup his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. You’ve never been close enough to notice he has the faintest freckles over the bridge of his nose. It almost feels like you’re getting a glimpse at sacred markings you’re not supposed to see. 

Eddie remembers to breathe when you peck his lips again, running your fingers through his hair. His breath is startled out of him, more like. It’s a wonder his knees haven’t buckled beneath him. He wants to kiss you again to see if that’ll finally knock him back down to earth, but instead he exhales the softest sigh over your lips, squeezing your hips to confirm you’re real. He’s not expecting the sense of guilt that creeps up on him. 

Your brows pinch together. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I just… I haven’t taken you on a date or bought you flowers.” He swallows. “I swear you’re worth all that, swear I’m gonna.” 

You gently scratch his scalp. “That’s nothing to worry yourself over.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t want you to feel like I’m just trying to come onto you,” he says. “I like you a lot—”  

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever too.” Your voice sounds braver than you feel. 

A smile breaks across his face as he rests his forehead against yours. “Well, that’s maddening news.” 

Humming, you kiss him again, delicately running your tongue along his lips so he shivers. “Where are we gonna go?” you breathe, clarifying when he makes a soft, confused sound, “For our first date.” With the way you continue kissing him, he assumes you don’t really want an answer, that you’re trying to drive him crazy on purpose. 

His mind changes when you gently push his chest so he knows to pull away. He listens immediately, eyes dazed. 

“Maybe the arcade,” you supply, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Or a picnic by the lake.” Your hands slip under his shirt, gracing the skin of his lower stomach, your touch sending a rush of heat through him faster than any high ever could. 

You’re not trying to be suggestive, it’s more exploratory. A shared thrill in finally being able to touch him how you’ve wanted for so long. Eddie’s hands remain at your waist, grounding him even as he feels his resolve starting to slip. 

As much as he wants to indulge a step further, maybe even several, he holds himself back. It might be old-fashioned, but he wants to do this right, do a bit of course correction. He can almost hear Uncle Wayne’s voice from those lazy afternoons of his younger years, talking about life and how to treat a lady. 

“Next Friday,” he says, staring into your eyes intently. “It’ll be nice. I’ll surprise you,” he promises, taking your hands in his, relishing their softness, their warmth. His skull ring is still on your thumb. 

“Really?” Your smile is unabashed. 

He nods, a grin creeping onto his face. “It’s a date.” 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

Turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting so you don’t miss the next one.

NEXT PART (18+)

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[lilpomelito]

my favorite thing about Steve is that he’s actually a very confident guy, overconfident I would say sometimes, so in my head he has the shortest gay crisis ever like he realizes on a random Tuesday morning while slowly rotting on his costumer service job that his weird fixation with Eddie and how close he is with that punk dude from the Hideout is jealousy actually, so that means he has a crush on Eddie. Huh, that’s weird, has he had crushes on guys before? Maybe, his friendship with Tommy was intense and weirdly possessive actually, and their fight did feel like a breakup kind off and Tommy did behave like a bitter ex afterwards… also now that he thinks about it his obsession with the captain of the baseball team who was a senior when he was a junior was totally a crush in retrospective. And as he comes to this conclusion he also thinks damn what a waste, I could 100% have pulled him. So that same day he’s driving to Eddie’s place like “hi i’m taking you out” and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s about to be wine and dinned or murdered in the middle of the woods but he’s also a weak weak man for pretty boys so he just follows where Steve tells him to go. They have a lovely date at the dinner and then drive up to the quarry to see the sunset and then a very intense makeout sesh in the back of Steve’s car when Eddie remembers to ask him if he’s even into guys. Steve who already has his hands in Eddie’s pants looks him dead in the eye and says “yeah since this morning I think, but also since forever.” And Eddie who had to spend years slowly crawling his way out of Narnia to even admit to himself he was gay even less admitting it to others just blinks and accepts the fact that yeah, Steve Harrington has always had that vibe actually, and resumes kissing him.

[dreamsteddie]

There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it)

Edit: @jazzathebunny found the original AITA from Reddit linked Here for anyone who wants to read it. I'm definitely not doing exactly the same premise but this was my jumping off point 😊

Part Two! ------

Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.

Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.

He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.

The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.

The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.

Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.

But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.

In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.

Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.

"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.

Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.

He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.

Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.

After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.

He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.

New Message: Steve H.

Fuck.

-------

Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.

[johanna-swann]

I actually have sooo many issues with 911 lately that haven't even got much to do with any ships.

Like. They wrote out almost all of the side characters. Chris is gone, Linda and Sue are gone, Athena's kids are gone (even though Harry just moved in with her and Bobby again? Seriously, where is Harry?), Ravi is gone, Carla is gone. I know the GA maybe don't care that much, casual viewers might not even have noticed that this many characters have just vanished from the show, but in my opinion this is one of the things that give a show running as long as 911 life. Having a big cast is a good thing. Otherwise things are going to get very monotonous very soon.

Actually, that's my second point. They keep repeating storylines! Every season Hen and Karen have to fight a custody battle over one of their kids.

Every season Eddie ends up realising he has a lot of repressed trauma and issues which keep him from leading a healthy happy and free life.

Every season Bathena realise that they have communication issues and they fight about it, but then something traumatic happens and they forgive each other without ever really talking things out.

Every season we are reminded that Maddie's most prominent character trait is "traumatised", the writers just alternatingly bring up Doug again and sometimes the ppd arc.

Every season we see Buck being somewhat restless, looking and searching for something that will bring him true happiness and cycling through love interests that never stick around and each time when you think "oh, there it is, he's getting somewhere now" the writers go "BEEEP! WRONG!" and we start all over again. [This is not just about recent events aka Tommy, the break-up and Buck potentially going back to his 1.0 ways, this also happened in season 6 when he had his "it doesn't matter what other people see in me, I'm enough" revelation only to suddenly be like "omg, Natalia just sees me".]

And Chimney- he had his moment last season with the wedding episode, Kenneth Choi really ate that episode up, but his most prominent character trait is "Maddie's supportive husband". There's really not that much going on with him otherwise.

Another point I briefly touched upon above is consistency. Like Harry moving back in with Athena and Bobby and then just vanishing. Or Gerrard being more like a slightly unfriendly grandpa than an actual antagonist in season 8 when he was still spouting slurs in season 7.

And the timeline! We talked about this before ("last March", Mara's fostering to adoption timeline, Tommy tranferring to harbour "5 years ago"), but the newest "Tommy was actually Abby's Tommy" twist just adds to that. Tommy was with Abby for over 2 years. They were engaged. This was at a time when he was still at the 118. Tommy dated Abby presumably because he was in denial or maybe because he was hiding. In either case, wouldn't his team at least have heard about his fiancée, Abby the dispatcher? Wouldn't that have rung a bell when Buck eventually brought her around only a year or two later? Tommy did talk about his private life at least a little at work, even under Gerrard. It just doesn't make sense. (Not to mention this seems wildly out of character for Tommy who around the same time also said about himself "being single is easier".)

Then there's the pacing. This was a huge issue in season 7. They jumped from one personal soap opera drama to the next without taking any breathers, had almost no procedural in their drama the whole season, still somehow decided to spend one third of the entire season just on the opening disaster and also squeezed in a "Bobby begins for the third time now" episode. But okay, it was a shortened season, there were strikes, they switched networks, they were under a lot of pressure - I'll cut them some slack. At least they set up a bunch of interesting stuff for the following season.

But we're in season 8 now. The renewal was announced very early, they had a lot of time to plan this time. Also they have almost double the episodes they had last season, there's really no need to rush any of the major plots. I am done cutting them slack.

They wanna do a 3 part opening disaster again? Okay fine, you have the time now. I feel like they could've easily done it in 2 episodes (especially 8x02 felt a little "eh"), but okay. Better than the breakneck speed you were going at befo- Oh, what's that? 8x04 flying in with a steel chair. You resolved 70% percent of the plots you set up last season in one single episode with no build up, no emotional pay off and no lasting consequences? And you also squeezed in multiple unrelated calls at the same time? Damn, okay then. Good-bye potentially interesting storylines. Fuck me for being invested I guess. I thought there would at least maybe be some follow up in 8x05, but no.

Now that Halloween episode wasn't bad, it was actually the best episode of this season imo, but instead of following up on previously established conflicts and developments they just hit us with new Wilson family trauma and conflict that was also immediately fixed again. And now 8x06 has speedrun and dumped another storyline that had potential to go to deeper and interesting places. Not gonna talk too much about that though because this post is about the show as a whole, not ships.

And I am not yet convinced that there will be much more to come on the only thing that's left from last season: Eddie's deep dive into his trauma and repression. It's totally possible at this point that being told "you deserve nice things" by a random stranger actually solved all of his problems, it would be very in tone with 911's new style.

What are they even gonna do with the rest of this season? Revisiting the Hotshots set sounds fun, but ultimately inconsequential. You know what's great about a regular old procedural drama with ~20 episodes per season that comes on weekly? You have time. You can let the viewers sit with their emotions and thoughts for a week and keep them engaged by stretching things out a little.

But why should I bother getting emotionally invested in problems the characters are gonna solve within the same episode anyway? Or rather, even if I wanted to, how am I supposed to care if you don't give me the time to develop any feelings about anything that's happening? "Henren lost in court and are now completely forbidden from seeing Mara at all!" Damn, that must be so har- "JUST KIDDING! Ortiz is exposed and everything is perfect again now." Oh. Okay then, I guess.

Bottom line: The characters are all stuck in their own hamster wheels, they keep cutting side characters that could bring a breeze of fresh air (I'm honestly surprised they even kept Josh until now), they rush through all the storylines a such a ridiculous speed that I don't even have time to feel any sort of way about it, they don't even try to keep a consistency or sensible timeline going and they seem to strongly prioritise random funny bits that'll entertain the very casual viewers right now in this moment (tiger call, Billy Boils, Bee-nado, the 'Stache tm, "wait, it's the same Abby?", Gerrard being a fangirl at heart) instead of playing the long game and catering to people who actually pay a little attention to the show.

[On that last remark: I'm not talking about hardcore fans who analyse every single frame here, I mean casual fans who've watched the show on and off again for a while and who may not be involved in fandom but genuinely care about the show.]

I mean. What am I even still doing here? The show is treading water and I end up disappointed more often than not. I'm still holding out a little hope that they actually will do something interesting with Eddie and his sea-monkeys, but I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.

[wheneverfeasible]

Steve’s used to not being loved.

He’d known his parents didn’t love him since he was a young child. He’d known that the girls he casually took on dates and occasionally fucked didn’t love him. He’d known Tommy and Carol didn’t love him like friends were supposed to. They all loved his reputation, sure, but not him. It was easy though because he didn’t love them either.

He’d loved his parents once, a long time ago. Back before they were practically strangers, but that love had been the obligation of biology. He’d thought he loved Tommy and Carol, but it had all been too surface level and focused on popularity.

He had loved Nancy though. He finally found someone he could start to be his true self with and he loved her and he thought she loved him, only…only she didn’t.

He couldn’t blame her. After a while, when the same thing keeps happening, you kind of have to look for the common factor in all those loveless relationships and see what the real issue was. Simply put…

Steve was just unloveable.

Maybe it was his past. Not that he’d actually been a bully or anything, he’d actually shut down a lot of bullying even among his then-friends and teammates, but he had been kind of self-absorbed. Or maybe it was just the fact that he wasn’t as smart as the people he found himself surrounded by. Maybe it was just the fact that he wasn’t anything special, not at the end of the day.

Except he could take a punch.

And slowly, he found people that did love him. The other kids might tolerate him, might like him, but Dustin genuinely loved him, he knew that. Dustin was his original ride-or-die. Dustin might be a little shithead that constantly treated Steve like he was stupid, but he was like his brother. And Dustin also make him feel amazing and wanted and loved.

And then there was Robin. Most amazing of all really was that Robin loved him. His Platonic soulmate. His other ride-or-die. She saw him at his lowest and saw him at his highest, was there for him when he had stuff he didn’t want to drop on a teen boy who should be worrying about pimples and bad hair days, not interdimensional monsters and evil wizards. Robin made him feel loved too, even if she also sometimes teased him a little too sharply.

There was also Max of course. He’d been surprised at receiving a letter from her too, back when Vecna had been after her. He’d read it, back when she’d been in her coma. She hadn’t said she loved him, but it was there in other ways. The big brother she should have had all along.

So yeah, okay, Steve was loved. But it was platonic. It was friends, his new kind of family even, but it wasn’t the love he’d always wanted and never had. He just accepted the fact that people didn’t love him that way.

Which was why, when he realized he was in love with Eddie, he just sighed and accepted it and never changed anything in the way he interacted with the other man. He didn’t bother telling Eddie because he knew there was no point. Besides, Robin called him out on it, said he was being so obvious about his feelings, but Eddie never said anything too.

So okay. Steve was in love with Eddie, but Eddie wasn’t in love with Steve. Eddie also didn’t treat Steve any differently despite knowing that Steve loved him. After all, if Steve was so obvious about it, then Eddie had to know too already, right?

So Steve watched Eddie come out to them, had nodded along when Eddie nervously explained what bisexuality was, having already had his own crisis before though he realized he’d never officially come out either. But then if his feelings for Eddie were so obvious, he figured he didn’t have to, so he didn’t say anything and let Eddie have his moment.

And it didn’t matter that Eddie liked guys. He still couldn’t love Steve, so Steve just accepted it and let it be. He didn’t flinch when Eddie mentioned meeting a guy in the city, was even downright friendly when Eddie eventually brought the guy around to meet everyone.

It hurt, of course, but Steve’s feelings were his own problem; he wasn’t going to let the fact that he was in love with one of his best friends make things awkward. Eddie was nice enough that he never told Steve to knock it off when Steve got a little too touchy with him, though Steve backed off in his own when Eddie seemed a little panicked about it sometimes.

Steve was even there for Eddie when Eddie came over crying because he and guy broke up. He wouldn’t tell Steve why they broke up, not entirely, but eventually Steve learned it was because Eddie had feelings for someone else this entire time.

Steve wondered who it was, but in any case he just hoped Eddie got to be happy with them eventually. He later told Eddie one day when Eddie was over that he was a great guy, obviously, and anyone Eddie liked would be a lucky person. He hoped he didn’t sound judgmental about it, didn’t want Eddie to think he was being petty or whatever, but Eddie just looked sad again and left soon after.

Steve knew he had a problem about being too much sometimes. It had pushed Nancy away, and every girl he’d tried to date afterwards never really liked him enough either. It was still just his reputation and his hair that got him dates, not who he was himself. That was fine. Temporary companionship was better than nothing he supposed.

And life continued, and Steve kept loving Eddie, and he was content that Eddie let him love him, even if there was no hope of it being reciprocated.

And then Steve went on a date with a guy.

It was…okay. The guy was a lot handsier than Steve would like, and kind of boring when compared to Eddie, but Steve just shrugged and figured that at least it’s be someone else’s hand this time. And it was okay. No great spark or anything. More of a glorified one night stand than anything, but it was fine.

He knew he needed to get out dating again. Girls and guys. His love for Eddie wasn’t abating at all, so he couldn’t bring himself to actually date anyone, but he could do hookups.

Which was how Eddie found him one day, mouth around some guy at a bar in Indy because they had forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Oops. It was a little annoying though that Eddie looked as upset as he did. He appreciated the fact that Eddie didn’t call him out for his unwanted feelings, but it wasn’t fair that he thought Steve shouldn’t be able to move on.

They got into a fight.

They never exactly said what they were fighting about with words, but Eddie yelled at him for having unsafe sex, while Steve yelled at him for being a hypocrite, and then Eddie yelled at him for leading the guy on, and Steve said that that was a bit rich coming from him.

And Eddie was yelling and yelling and yelling about who knows what, telling Steve he shouldn’t be having random hookups in bathrooms when he wasn’t even gay, and Steve yelled that bisexual men can have bathroom hookups too, and that seemed to surprise Eddie for some reason.

In any case, it caused him to shut up for long enough for Steve to angrily tell him that just because Steve loved him, it didn’t give him the right to tell Steve what he could or could not do, especially when he knew Eddie didn’t love him back.

And then…

“You…you love me?” Eddie choked out, his eyes wide as he stared across the dark alley outside the bar, where he’d dragged Steve after catching him on his knees.

Steve rolled his eyes, jutting out one hip to place a hand on while the other hand ran aggressively through his hair. It was started to rain while they were in the bar, a light drizzle that was slowly weighing down their hair, not that either of them paid it any mind.

“Jesus, Munson, are you really going to make me listen to the whole spiel again?” He rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in frustration. “This is bullshit, I’m bullshit, my love is bullshit, yadda yadda yadda. Or are we going the other way? The sad puppy eyes and the fact that you like someone else and it could never be me? I already know all this, Munson.”

Eddie continued gaping at Steve like a fish. It was starting to make him vaguely uncomfortable. Eddie shook his head, long strands of hair whipping wetly around him. “H-how long have you loved me?” Eddie whispered.

Steve’s frown deepened. “I don’t know, man. You probably clocked it before I even did. I just barely realized like a year and half ago.”

Eddie’s eyes bugged further. “You’ve love me for a year and a half?” he asked incredulously, making Steve’s frown turn from annoyance to confusion.

“You already knew this, Eddie.”

“I most certainly did not!”

And…oh. Oof. Okay. Steve grimaced and held his hands up suddenly in a surrender sort of way. “Yikes. Okay, well, this doesn’t have to change anythi—”

“This changes everything!” Eddie exclaimed in what others might cause a shriek.

Steve winced, taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. “Eddie…Eddie, please, c’mon,” he tried to reason, feeling dread settling in the pit of his stomach. He was suddenly remembering all the times he’d invaded Eddie’s space, how many times he’d flirted back with Eddie’s fake flirting, thinking it was okay because the other man knew how he felt.

Fuck. Fuck, he’d fucked up again.

“Eddie, I know you don’t love me, okay,” he rushed to say. “I know you can never love me. I get it, okay? I’m not trying to force you to feel any way or anything. Just like with Robin and Nancy, the fact that I like you doesn’t have to change anything.”

“Not…Steve,” Eddie said, reaching up to grip and pull at his own hair as an incredulous laugh escaped him. “Steve, I fucking love you.”

Steve tried not to let that hurt. He knew Eddie probably didn’t get how much him saying that pained Steve since it wasn’t the kind of love he was talking about, so he wasn’t going to get upset at him over that.

“I know,” he sighed, slowly letting himself relax his body posture. “I know you love me in a friend way. And that’s enough for me, really! I love you like a friend too, so the fact that I also—”

“No Steve,” Eddie cut in again, and while he seemed exasperated, a wide smile was also starting to curl over his lips. “Robin was right and you really are a dingus. I mean, yes, I love you as a friend, but I’m also in love with you. Romantic styles.”

“I…” Steve blinked. He tried to understand Eddie’s words but they didn’t make sense. “What?”

Eddie snorted out a laugh, and the smile curled on his lips stretched out into a grin. He took a step closer. “I’m in love with you, Steve Harrington. I have been since…hell, probably since you went all Ozzy on me. But definitely since I woke up in the hospital to you holding my hand.”

Steve’s stomach swooped. “I don’t understand,” he said, and even to his own ears there was a small whine there. “You don’t…people don’t love me,” he pointed out. “They can’t. There’s something about me that just makes it impossible.”

Eddie scoffed, reaching out once he was closer enough to curl his fingers in the sleeves at Steve’s biceps. They were both now well and truly wet from the rain, but neither of them paid any attention to it at all.

“Now that’s bullshit, Harrington. You’re so fucking easy to love. As a friend and as something…more. I love you, Steve.”

Steve wanted to deny it again, wanted to say that that was impossible, because…because he’d never heard those words. Sure, Dustin and Robin told him they loved him, but romantically? Even Nancy had never told him that in those words. Not even in a lie. He couldn’t fully comprehend that he was hearing them now.

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie breathed, his hands moving to cup Steve’s jaw. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life telling you that. You’re stuck with me now, big boy.”

And then Eddie kissed him.

Eddie was true to his words. He told Steve he loved him every single day, told him with his words and his actions and when it was legal, he told him again in front of all their friends and found family when he made a vow as a his husband.

And Steve? Well, it took a while for him for actually believe it, but nowadays? When Eddie kisses him good morning every day in bed, whispering his devotion, and every night doing the same, telling Steve he’ll see him in his dreams? Well…

Steve’s used to being loved. And he spends every day loving in return.

~

Hi hello I have no idea what this is but I just started typing and then I didn’t stop until this was completed lol

Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[heart-eyed-love]

Grouch

Summary | You’re not the most pleasant person to wake up, so Eddie decides to stick it out in Gareth’s basement.

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers (eventually), Cursing…

Pairing | BestFriend!Eddie x BestFriend!Reader

Word Count | 1.3k

An | I haven’t written in a while, I’ve had no motivation, so I’m so sorry this sucks😭 Hopefully I’ll be able to get something better out soon!!

“So… Who’s gonna wake her up?” Jeff asks.

All the boys stare at you from your spot on the couch. Face smooshed against the small pillow you used to cushion your head. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep but whatever movie Gareth had chosen for that night had you passed out 30 minutes in.

“I mean, obviously Eddie, right?” Grant says, brow raised as he looks over at him, smirking as Eddie looked back at him with squinted eyes.

Yes. Eddie knew that was probably his responsibility right now, he had driven you over and he was supposed to drive you back to your trailer.

“Well, me and Jeff gotta go, so… have fun waking up, the princess…” He teases as he pats Eddie’s shoulder and he and Jeff make their way to Gareths front door.

Eddie actually preferred nights when the movie hangouts were held over at anyone else’s house. The other boys enjoyed them more at his trailer, no adults to interrupt and basically free rein. Which is why Eddie dreaded having them at his place, it’s not that he didn’t like his friends he just didn’t like having a hoard of teenage boys loose around his safe space.

You were a completely different story though. Movies night with you at his trailer were probably his favorite, but he’s not about to admit that to you.

And when you would conk out at his place he’d just let you sleep. It has come very apparent to everyone in the group that waking you up was not for the weak.

You were definitely snippy to say the least, you weren’t too fond of the way you acted after being woken up either. Probably something you should work on, but that’s beside the point.

Eddie and Gareth are left with you, and Gareth chuckles lightly at the small dribble of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth. He won’t lie, he thinks you're cute, but he has to keep his staring to a minimum cause the few times Eddie had caught him staring at you the look he shot him was nothing short of scary.

“Well, Go ahead.” Gareth says with an all too cocky smirk.

“Can we just crash here? I mean, she looks kinda peaceful… we wouldn’t want to disturb that…”

“Pussy.” Gareth says with a chuckle but immediately shut up as he sees the look in Eddie’s eyes.

Jeez. There it is again. Gareth will never know how he can hold so much power with just one look. But it has him muttering a quiet ‘sorry’.

“Yeah, you can crash here, I’ll bring some pillows and blankets down…” And he’s already quick on his feet to head upstairs. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs as he takes in seat on the floor next to where you legs are set. He leans his head back on the couch and looks up at you.

He immediately clocks the dampened spot on the pillow, right by where your mouth laid. He chuckles slightly at the sight.

Of course you’re a drooler. And of course this is the one time he doesn’t find it disgusting. He rolls his eyes again, and looks forward. Letting out a sigh feeling slightly annoyed with himself. He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it though, thankfully, cause Gareth is coming back down stairs with pillows and blankets.

He stands to help, grabbing some of the pile off of him, dropping a pillow and blankets down to the floor for himself and then taking the rest.

“Are you actually scared to wake her?” Gareth asks, his tone is still slightly playful. Eddie does find himself impressed sometimes by how persistently annoying Gareth can be without giving up, but not right now.

Eddie stares at Gareth blankly for a second before letting out a sigh, “Only like a tiny bit.” He tries to defend but Gareth still chuckles lightly.

“Well, you know where everything is so… I’ll leave you to it. Night.” He says as he begins making his way back up the stairs to his room.

Turning his gaze back to you, Eddie moves himself closer to you, and as carefully as he can he lifts your legs from the floor onto the couch. You grumble quietly but never fully wake up. He grabs one of the blankets for you and lazily throws it on to you. He watches how it lands imperfectly.

And for what feels like the umpteenth time that night he rolls his eyes before what seems to be an attempt to tuck you in. He doesn’t understand how you have the powers to pull him to do such things but you do.

Once you’re more efficiently covered he plops himself down to the floor, adjust his pillow and throws the blanket over himself. He feels exhausted for some reason. Mostly likely from Gareth's shitty movie choice, and it has him ready to pass out.

And fortunately it doesn’t take him long.

But not too long after you find yourself waking up, eyes heavy as they let themselves slightly open. The rooms dark as you take it in and it clicks that this is not your room.

You sit up in a panic. Shit did Eddie really leave you here?!

“Fuck!” You whispered panicked as you swing your legs over the edge of the couch and your feet crush down onto something soft. You fall back down to the couch as whatever you just stepped on lets out a loud groan and your eyes widen.

“Shit! Fuck! I’m sorry, I uh- I thought you left…” You look down at him guiltily, “I’m sorry…”

Eddie lets out an exhausted sigh as he runs his hands down his face and sleepily says, “I wouldn’t just leave you here, Y/n.” His tone is slightly annoyed and you can’t blame him, waking up to a foot in the gut is not the best, and somehow he’s still being nicer than you would have been. 10x times nicer.

“No?” You ask quietly as you lay yourself back down onto your pillow, continuing to stare at him from over the edge.

Looks over to you and grumbles out “No…” And he lets his eyes close again, but they quickly snap open at the feeling of your hand on his stomach, right where you stepped.

You give it a small rub before saying, “Again, I’m really sorry…” You pull your hand away but he can still feel a sort of tingling in his stomach where you laid your hand on him, overpowering the painful foot to the gut feeling present before.

“It’s fine…” he whispers.

“Can we- can we go home? I really, really don’t want to sit and eat breakfast with Gareth's dad again…” He chuckles tired at that. Every time they’ve all spent the night there, they had to deal with whatever bullshit Gareth’s dad was talking about way too fucking early, so he’s all for leaving.

“Yeah, c’mon…” grunts slightly as he rises from his spot on the floor. He throws his pillow and blanket onto the couch by yours and you both quietly slip out of the house and make your way to his van.

The drive back to the trailer park was quiet, you both were too tired for conversation, but once you arrived home and he parked in front of your trailer you hopped out and walked to his side of the van. He quickly rolled the window down as you walked closer.

“You don’t need to be scared to wake me up, Eddie…” you smirk at him, and he’s narrowing his eyes.

“I’m not scared.” He groans out.

“Right…” You’re smiling as you pat his shoulder and begin walking up the stairs to your door, you turn and say, “I promise I’ll try and be less of a pain in the ass about it…” And then you walk inside. He smiles and puts the van into drive and he makes his way over to the trailer across from yours.

He passes out the second his head hits his pillow. But he’s definitely gonna hold you to that promise.