#and then showed it to everyone i’m friends with in steddie

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || a/b/o

hi so today is @lexirosewrites’s birthday today and like,, idk three or so weeks ago she followed me (hi lexi <3 happy birthday <3 hope today has been fun <3) and to celebrate both of those things i started writing an omegaverse fic, and i wanted it done by today but it is grew a mind of its’ own and now it’s much bigger than i thought it’d be so instead of the full fic, have a snippet <3

again, happy birthday lexi <3

“Hello?” Steve answered, having learned to not open the call with who was answering without knowing who was calling from one too many scam calls

“Is this Steve Harrington?” A soft feminine voice asked, taking Steve by surprise.

“May I ask who’s calling?” Steve asked, not willing to concede his identity until he knew it wasn’t someone looking to sell him ‘Alpha Pills’ or something just as ridiculous.

“Of course! My name is Chrissy Cunningham, you sent in an application for being a full time nanny and tutor?” She responded with a cheerful voice. “I can’t <i>really</i> go much more in depth without an NDA being signed.”

Recognition zapped through Steve’s body and he sat up in his seat. “Oh! Yes, I’m Steve. Um. I’d be happy to sign an NDA, just may I ask why?”

“Yes, you may! My client is a big fan of privacy and only agreed to hire someone if they were under an NDA for the protection of their pup.” aaand all of Steve’s anxiety surrounding the NDA pretty much melted away. Sure, maybe it was a bit much to do, and sure, now he was dying with curiosity to know just <i>who</i> he had ended up applying to, but the knowledge that the NDA was for the protection of the pup soothed any anxiety Steve had originally felt about signing an NDA. In fact, it kind of made his omega perk up. He shook off the feeling, focusing on Chrissy.

“That’s actually really relieving to hear,” Steve said with a laugh. “When or where can I sign the NDA?” he questioned, wondering when Robin would be home so he could tell her.

“Well, first, you and I will do a preliminary interview, just like any other job interview. Then, if all goes well, I’ll send you an email containing the NDA for you to review and sign,” Chrissy explained clearly and cheerfully. “After you sign the NDA, my client will perform an in-person interview and then we’ll go from there.”

“That all seems pretty straight forward so far,” Steve replied, standing from where he had been lounging on the couch. He walked to the kitchen, where he and Robin had put up a magnetic whiteboard calendar to fill with each of their schedules and plans. He grabbed the blue marker, his color, and prepared to jot down when they’d have the interview.

“Perfect! Happy to hear it,” Chrissy said with an audible smile.

“When will the interview with you be?” Steve asked, biting his lip as he stared at the calendar, which had sparsely been marked with his blue marker, even since starting this job hunt. Robin’s plans were in red, and was much more abundant due to having three part time jobs.

“Well, as soon as possible, really. If you’re available now, we could take care of it right away.” the woman responded, sounding like she was walking into another room.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed, recapping the marker and returning it to the pen holder. “Yes, of course. I’m available now.”

“Perfect!” Chrissy’s voice sounded from Steve’s phone as the omega walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. “So, starting off pretty easy here, what made you apply for this position?”

Steve thought back and grimaced at the reminder that it was Robin who had submitted his application to this particular job. He wasn’t about to admit that, though, and quickly found a more appropriate response.

“Well, I love taking care of pups, and I just got my teacher’s license a month ago,” Steve explained, which wasn’t a lie, so he figured it was probably as good of an answer as any. “I also saw that this job traveled, and my best friend thought that it’d be good for me.”

“Yes, that was going to be part of this conversation, too. So, you’re obviously alright with the traveling, then?” Chrissy asked and Steve heard what he thought could be pen scratching as she wrote notes. He swallowed thickly, suddenly anxious about what she was writing. He decided to ignore his anxiety, even as his scent soured around him with it.

“Oh, yes, traveling is more than okay,” Steve agreed immediately, “but it’s more important to me that I’ll be taking care of a pup, if I’m honest.”

This statement seemed to pique Chrissy’s attention, as the writing stopped for a moment. “Why is that?” she eventually asked.

Steve winced, wondering if he should be up front about it or not. If Robin were here, she would insist that he was honest. He decided on a half-truth.

“I’ve always wanted pups, and a lot of them,” Steve admitted, fidgeting with a loose piece of thread on the couch. He switched which arm was holding the phone, as he had started to get a little sore from holding it up for so long. “But I don’t have a partner, so I can’t really have my own right now. I discovered through babysitting for one of my neighbors that I have a knack for taking care of pups.”

The scratching noise was back as Chrissy listened to his responses. Steve was nervous he wasn’t doing well, but figured that it wasn’t going bad if she wasn’t suddenly calling the interview short.

“Your resume says that you’re good in high stress situations,” Chrissy said after a couple seconds of silence as she wrote down whatever notes she was taking. Steve briefly wondered if he should be doing the same thing. “I’m going to give you an example scenario, and you’re going to tell me how you’d respond.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Steve agreed, trying not to let his voice betray how anxious he was.

“For the sake of simplicity, we’ll say the pup’s name is Rosie,” she informed him before she continued to describe the scenario. “You’re taking Rosie to the park, when suddenly there is a crowd of people surrounding you and you lose sight of her. What do you do?”

Steve thought the scenario was odd, but not ‘out there’ enough to alarm him. He thought about his answer for a moment before replying.

“I would try to follow her scent, first, because that will usually lead me to any pup I’ve babysat. If that doesn’t work, I will call out for her. If the situation is bad enough, I would contact the authorities, and either you or Rosie’s father.” he paused for a second before continuing, trying to make sure he covered all of his bases. “But honestly? If Rosie is small enough, I would have rather carried her once I saw the crowd, or hold her hand, for the reason of lowering my chances of separation.”

Silence that’s only broken up by the scratching of pen against paper followed, and Steve was suddenly anxious that he answered incorrectly. He answered what he would do if it were his own pup, but what if that wasn’t right? What if he wasn’t cut out for this job?

“Alright, next scenario,” Chrissy said, moving swiftly onto the next one without commenting on his answer; Steve didn’t know if he preferred her not acknowledging it or if he would prefer to be told his answer was shitty up front. The next few scenarios were just as oddly specific, but Steve answered them exactly as he did the first one. He tried to not overthink his answers too much because between each one there would be a stretch of time that Chrissy used to presumably write his answers down.

“One last question and then we should be good to move forward.” Chrissy said a good twenty minutes of questions later. “When would you be available to start working?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, surprised that he was seemingly, maybe being offered the job. “Um—immediately. I would need time to pack, but other than that, I’m free.”

“Wonderful,” Chrissy said cheerfully. “Alright, now it’s your turn. Do you have any questions for me?”

Steve hummed, trying to go through his usual list of questions he asked during interviews that hadn't already been answered and came up empty. “Not at the moment, but I’ll make sure to write any I think of down, if I do.”

“Perfect! So, I will consult with my client, and I have a few other applicants that are interested, but so far, you are my top pick, but I don’t make the decisions,” Chrissy laughed, as if Steve was in on the joke. He laughed with her, not knowing what else he should have done. So, maybe not a job offer, but it sounded promising anyway. “I will be in contact in a few days, three at most.”

“Sounds good, thank you so much for considering me, Chrissy,” he responded with a smile, hoping to leave one last good impression.

[steddieas-shegoes]

we share that really

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt ‘band politics’

rated t | 905 words | no cw | tags: famous corroded coffin, reunion tour, future fic, steddie dads, everyone has a family and is happy

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Their label said it was too soon to do a reunion tour. They were only in their early 40s and had only been officially “broken up” for ten years.

But they were all in the right place: married, children who were old enough to come on tour but still young enough to be excited about it, and writing music that meant more to them than anything they’d done before.

Rumors had swirled for years after they announced their break up. None of them saw it as a breakup, more an early retirement that let them focus on building their lives. Fans and media alike hadn’t stopped coming up with other reasons for it: Gareth had been in love with Eddie for years and finally said something which caused friction, Jeff’s wife had threatened to divorce him if he didn’t take time off, Frankie had a drinking problem that was spreading like a viral disease.

None of it was even close to true.

The one and only reason for all of them was that they wanted to focus on their families for a while.

They stayed in touch, almost more than when they were on tour together. Jeff and Gareth lived in the same neighborhood, and Frankie bought an RV so he could come visit as often as he wanted. Eddie had traveled for a very extended honeymoon with Steve for nearly a year before finally settling an hour away, halfway between his favorite people and Steve’s favorite person.

They still played together at least once a month, a full set and any new stuff someone brought with them.

So when they all agreed it was time to come back and record a new album and do a tour, it wasn’t really a reunion so much as an excuse to be even closer for a while.

The label was thrilled, willing to give everyone their own tour bus so their families could come with them for the US part of the tour.

One thing none of them were prepared for was the media following the announcement.

“Is it true that you only just reconciled after years of legal battles about rights to songs?” A journalist from Rolling Stone asked.

Gareth snorted. “Not even a little, dude. We’ve been best friends this entire time.”

“So there was never any issue with Eddie being the most famous?”

Everyone looked over at Eddie, who was making faces at his youngest daughter at the side of the stage. Jeff leaned into his mic and gestured over to him.

“None of us have ever had a problem with him being the face of the band. We’re here to make music and perform, not fight over who gets to be in the center of pictures,” he said. “Plus, none of us would wanna deal with what he deals with on a daily basis. He’s not that interesting, I promise.”

Everyone laughed as Eddie turned back to the crowd with a smile. “I’m super boring. Just ask my kids.”

"So you don't mind that he gets creative control?" Another reporter asked.

They all shared looks with each other before Eddie leaned forward into his microphone to answer.

"I don't have creative control. We all share it. We all share everything. That's the point of a band like ours. Sometimes I know what sounds best for a guitar solo, sometimes Jeff does. Sometimes Gareth writes a chorus that people will sing along to, sometimes Frankie does. We've never had any of that lead person bullshit no matter what the media wants to show," Eddie drummed once on the table. "Are there any questions about the upcoming album and tour or is everyone here gonna keep asking about shit that isn't true?"

"Language!" Steve yelled from the side of the room.

Everyone laughed and Eddie waved him off.

They got more questions about the album and the tour and it finally seemed like everyone was done asking about band politics until the very end.

"So will Eddie still be the lead guy for the reunion?" Someone from the back asked.

Eddie banged his head against the table.

"Alright, thanks everyone! We'll see you on tour!" Gareth yelled as he pulled Eddie's arm so they could all exit the stage.

"They want us to hate each other so bad," Frankie shook his head.

"Look at this face," Gareth said as he grabbed Eddie's jaw in one hand, squeezing his cheeks until his lips pouted out. "Who could hate this face?"

"Shit!" A small voice exclaimed from behind them.

Eddie turned to see his youngest daughter smiling up at him and Steve standing next to her with his hands on his hips.

"You're right, sweetie. Daddy's in deep shit," Eddie leaned in to kiss Steve's cheek. "And he is so sorry for breaking the no bad words rule today. He really is."

"Our fearless leader appears to be absolutely fucked," Jeff said as he started to walk towards his wife and kids.

Gareth trailed behind him in search of his own family.

Frankie punched Eddie's shoulder. "Good luck, big guy."

"Everyone hates me, call the media and tell them they were right," Eddie pouts.

Steve rolls his eyes and picks up their daughter, walking away.

Eddie turns to his twins. "Well, you guys don't care if I say shit."

"You said worse while getting ready this morning."

"And I'll say worse again! Let's get out of here."

[katethetank]

Ok I’ve never written anything before, and I’m obsessed with Steddie content. So without further adieu, here’s a modern day Steddie story where Eddie comes to terms with the hard truth that his husband’s snuggles might be more popular than his world famous band. This kind of got away from me and ended up way longer than I thought it would. Oops.

Content warnings: idk, TikTok I guess?! It’s fluffy and sweet, illusions to smut at the end

Eddie Munson was a notoriously private person. Corroded Coffin was the biggest metal/alt band in the world, and despite the fame, he managed to keep his personal life just that - personal.

There of course had been rumors over the last few years of who he was married to. Among the chunky metal rings that always adorned his fingers, fans couldn’t help but notice the simple silver band on his left ring finger. Paparazzi would occasionally catch him out in public with various women, leading his fans to speculate wildly who his mystery wife was.

But as soon as the rumors got started, they were quickly shut down. He was photographed once stumbling out of a club in New York with SNL star Robin Buckley on his arm. Social media went absolutely rabid and Robin made sure to clear things up the following Saturday on Weekend Update, announcing that she was in fact, a raging lesbian.

Not too long after that, Eddie was photographed clinking wine glasses with accomplished journalist Nancy Wheeler at a romantic rooftop restaurant in LA. When rumors started swirling around them of a secret affair, Nancy’s husband (and Rolling Stone photographer) Jonathan Byers put a stop to it by posting a picture of all three of them on his socials explaining that they were long time friends and out celebrating Nancy’s nomination for a Pulitzer.

Again the rumor mill started churning when Eddie was spotted giving a piggyback ride to pro skateboarder Max Mayfield after one of her competitions. Accusations of him “robbing the cradle” had her immediately posting a video on TikTok telling everyone off, fake gagging, and saying that Eddie was like her big brother. She then pulled Eddie into the frame asking, “Would you losers seriously believe I’d be into this ugly mug?” before promptly shoving his face away. Eddie was only a little offended.

Max’s video kind of blew up though, with everyone demanding more of Eddie’s presence on the app. Reluctantly he started his own account, his first video of him backstage at his sold out Madison Square Garden show, simply flashing the devil horns, sticking out his tongue, and greeting, “Hey assholes!”

It effectively broke the internet.

He was verified within a matter of hours, and had millions of followers within the first day.

Now all he had to do was figure out what the hell he was going to post. He didn’t want to share too much of his private life, but scrolling through the comments, he could see how much his fans truly loved seeing just that brief candid moment from him. So he started sharing bits and pieces behind the scenes at his shows, shots of the guys hanging out on the tour bus, and one lazy morning, a glimpse of his sleep-rumpled self in bed and his birds nest of bed head.

The comments on that last one exploded.

Everyone wanted to know who he was sharing that bed with, asking for a peek at his wife, if she was also famous. Who was he married to for god’s sake?!

He refused to take the bait.

One afternoon he set up his living room for a TikTok live, planning on just strumming his guitar, answering questions about the new album that was coming out, maybe taking some requests for songs to play. While he was glancing at the comments and plucking away at his acoustic, he didn’t hear the front door open, or the footsteps coming towards the room. He startled when he heard, “Babe, I’m home! I got you some more Honeycombs!”

Eddie froze. And the comments went absolutely fucking wild.

“Wait, was that a dude?!”

“Did some guy just call him babe???”

“SPOUSE REVEAL?!?!”

“OMG IS HE GAY???? I LOVE THIS FOR US!!”

“Oh I am so invested in this! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈”

“Honeycombs?! Really?!”

Eddie scrambled to set his guitar down, quickly thanked everyone for tuning in, and cut off the live stream.

Steve stepped into the room with a questioning look on his face. “Babe?… what’s wrong?”

Eddie glanced at him sheepishly mumbling, “We may have just spilled the beans on a live stream.”

“You were doing a live stream? What happened? And wait, what beans?”

Sighing heavily and running a hand through his hair, Eddie stood up and walked over to Steve, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I was doing a TikTok live, playing some songs and talking about the new record. I didn’t hear you come in, and when you shouted that you were home, it was apparently loud enough for everyone to hear. So I shut it down fast before the comments got even more out of control. I didn’t know what to say!”

Steve leaned in and gave Eddie a peck on the nose, hugged him tight, and asked, “Well��� how bad were the comments? Do you think people are gonna freak out?”

“Freak out? In a good way, maybe. They all seemed pretty surprised to hear a guy’s voice and were asking for a spouse reveal.”

Steve furrowed his brows and thought about it for a few moments. “What if we did?”

“Did what?”

“A spouse reveal. I gotta admit, it’s been pretty annoying having everyone assume you’re sleeping with our friends! I don’t really like the idea of being in the public eye, but what if we just did a quick video or something to put the rumors to bed for good?”

Admittedly it was a pretty good idea. Eddie liked being able to share parts of his life with his fans, and Steve was the biggest part of his life. It would be nice to show him off for a moment and finally tell the world who put that ring on his finger.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok! Let’s do it!”

Eddie grabbed his phone, opened TikTok, and got comfy on the couch. Steve sat down next to him, cuddled into his side. He started the video with the camera just on himself, took a deep breath, and hit record.

“Hey guys! Sorry to dip out of my live stream so suddenly. I was a little thrown off with that interruption, but thought it would be best to come on here and clear the air. Yes, I’m married. Yes, my spouse is a man. Yes, my favorite cereal is Honeycombs, don’t come at me for that! And this is Steve.”

He tilted his phone so both his and Steve’s faces were in the frame. Steve smiled brightly and did a little finger wave. “Hey everybody!”

Eddie giggled and turned to kiss Steve on the cheek. Even after years of being together, Eddie’s affections still made him blush. Steve turned at looked at Eddie with stars in his eyes and whispered, “I love you babe.”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

They shared a brief kiss before Eddie ended the video and immediately posted it.

He effectively broke the internet again.

Millions of likes and comments flooded in, a huge wave of love and support from his fans. And of course, more questions.

“Shut up, they are so fucking cute I’m gonna puke”

“I’m so sad that the married rumors are true, but omg his husband is crazy hot! Good for him!”

“His name is Steve?! Why is that so adorable?!”

“Find yourself a man who looks at you like Steve looks at Eddie!”

“Who is this Steve?! TELL! ME! EVERYTHING!”

“We demand more Steve!”

“Ok I need more details immediately”

The demand for more Steve content did not stop. Eddie still wanted to keep his private life as private as possible, but Steve had no problem with popping up in a few videos here and there. Rolling his eyes in the background at Eddie’s antics, hands on his hips while scolding the band for being late to an interview, painting Eddie’s nails backstage before a show. Just little glimpses of Steve being Steve. His fans ate that shit up.

One night Eddie was left to his own devices while Steve was out having a “girls night” with Robin, Nancy, Max, and El. Why he wasn’t invited too he will never know. Not that he was jealous or anything. Totally not jealous. He decided to set up another TikTok live while he screwed around on his guitar. About an hour in, the front door flew open and in stumbled a very flushed, very giggly, very drunk Steve.

“BABE! I SAW ARIANA GRANDE TONIGHT!”

Eddie started laughing as Steve made his way into the living room, glancing at how the comments went absolutely apeshit again.

“Stevie, sweetheart, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

Steve took the guitar out of Eddie’s hands and plopped down in his lap. “Babe, seriously! I saw Ariana Grande! Me and the girls went to some club and Nancy got us into the VIP section, and there she was! Just! Sitting there looking all cool and famous! Babe, it was awesome!”

Chuckling, Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve, kissed him on his temple, and pointed at his phone set up on a tripod. “Stevie, you interrupted my live stream again. Say hi to everyone!”

Steve turned his head towards the phone, eyebrows raising up, and smiled dopily. “Oh! Hi guys! Did you hear?? I saw Ariana Grande!” He then quickly snapped his drunken gaze back towards Eddie. “OH MY GOD! Babe! Do you think she’s on here?! Can you message her?!” He turned back to the phone shouting, “Ariana! I’m Steve! We should hang out! Eddie, tell her we should hang out!”

Eddie started cackling and patted Steve’s head like a puppy. “Ok big boy, you’ve clearly had enough. Sorry guys, I’m gonna have to cut the stream short and put this one to bed. And uh, yeah. Ariana Grande, if you’re into hanging out with preppy former jocks who like to snuggle while they’re wasted, let me know I guess. Goodnight!”

Eddie looked down at Steve, who had tucked himself into Eddie’s chest while he was talking, and gave a little kiss on his head before ending the live stream.

“Hmmm… sleepy.”

“I know you’re sleepy sweetheart, let’s get you into jammies and tuck you in.”

The next morning Eddie awoke to a hungover Steve groaning into his neck, and a message on TikTok from none other than Ariana Grande.

“What the fuck?!”

“Hng… too loud.”

“Sweetheart. Stevie. Wake up!”

“No.” Steve pulled the covers over his face.

“Honey, seriously, you need to wake up. You’ve gotta see this.”

“Eds, I don’t wanna see shit, I wanna sleep.”

“Stevie, do you remember coming home last night and telling everyone on TikTok that you want to hang out with Ariana Grande?”

Steve flipped the covers back off and gave him an incredulous look. “I did not.”

“Yeah princess, you did. You stumbled in talking about how you saw her at a club and wanted to hang out with her. And guess the fuck what.”

“…….what?”

Eddie turned his phone for Steve to see the message.

“What the?… ‘Hey Eddie! I caught your livestream last night and my answer is yes! Steve seems like an absolute doll, I’d love to hang out with him’”

Steve looked at him with wide eyes and just stared for few beats.

“SHE WANTS TO HANG OUT WITH ME?!”

His volume made both men wince, Steve immediately grabbing his throbbing head and groaning.

“Yes, sweetheart, apparently babbling drunk gay men are her thing. So, when should I tell her you’re free?”

The following Wednesday, Steve was a nervous wreck. He had cleaned the house from top to bottom, prepped a gorgeous charcuterie board, had wine chilling in the fridge, and checked his hair about 30 times.

“Stevie, darling, sweetheart. You’ve got to calm down.”

“Calm down? CALM DOWN?! Eddie, Ariana fucking Grande is coming to our house! How is this even happening? What if we don’t have anything in common? What if she thinks I’m an awkward idiot? I don’t wanna screw this up!”

Eddie wrapped Steve up in his arms and gave him a tight squeeze. “You won’t screw anything up. Everyone loves you Stevie. Just be you, and she’ll love you too. And if you’re freaking out, I’m a phone call away, alright? I should only be at the studio for a few hours and then I’ll be home before you know it. You two will have a great time! Ok?!”

Steve let out a long suffering sigh. “Ok.”

The doorbell rang and Eddie took his hand, walking with Steve to go greet their guest of honor. As soon as the door opened, Ariana Grande herself was standing there with a huge smile on her face. “Steve! Oh my god, it’s so nice to meet you!” She immediately gave Steve a hug and barley even acknowledged Eddie standing there.

“Ok. Well. I guess I’m not needed here. Have fun you two! Don’t do anything I would do!” Steve laughed and gave him a quick peck before leading his guest into the house.

After a few hours of polishing some tracks on the new album, Eddie headed back home. He hadn’t heard from Steve the whole time he was out, and hoped that everything went smoothly with his new friend. Or whatever the hell this was.

Opening his front door, he was greeted with the sounds of giggles, clinking glass, and… are they watching Twilight?!

He pulled out his phone and started recording as he walked into the living room. “Here I am, coming home after hours of slaving away on our new album to find THIS.” He flipped the camera around to a view of Steve and apparently his new best friend, snuggled under a blanket, wine glasses in hand, a few empty bottles on the table, surrounded by a mess of crumbs, giggling at blue-tinted vampires playing baseball.

He flipped the camera back to himself, sulking “I think I’ve been replaced.”

Internet: broken.

“Did they just become best friends?!”

“Awwwww I want Steve Snuggles!”

“Living for this!!!!”

“#stevesnuggles”

“Wait, did he make her a charcuterie board??”

In the weeks that followed, #stevesnuggles took over social media. Everyone and their mother was gushing about Eddie’s adorable husband, wanting to see more of him, and his snuggles. Eddie couldn’t blame them, really. The man is adorable. But he still wanted to keep sort of a lid on their private life, so he limited most of his posts to just Corroded Coffin content. Anticipation for the new album was amping up, a tour was being planned, and the buzz was buzzing.

Unfortunately with all of the work leading up to the release, Eddie wasn’t getting enough of his daily allotment of Steve Time. He was looking forward to the weekend when his schedule was clear so he could finally have some quality time with his husband and soak up all of those famous snuggles.

Life had other plans, though. Friday afternoon he got a text from Steve saying that it was his turn to host girls night. Again, why was Eddie not invited to these things?? Not that he was jealous. Of course not. That would be crazy. He resigned himself to the fact that tonight, he’d have to share his husband.

When he stepped into their home, he immediately recognized the honking laughter of a tipsy Robin, Nancy’s adorable giggle, but there were several other voices he couldn’t decipher. Thinking ahead, he once again pulled out his phone and started recording.

“HONEY, I’M HO- the fuck?!”

It took him a moment to register what he was seeing. He flipped the camera around to focus on the absurd cuddle puddle on the floor. In a pile of what must have been every blanket and pillow in the house, was the obvious collection of Steve, Nancy, Robin, and apparently now Ariana. But then…

“Sweetheart, why are Rhianna and Taylor Swift on our living room floor?”

Steve just looked up at him pie-eyed and sweetly stated, “Girls night!” to which the bizzare collection of women shouted, “Hi Eddie!”

How many times can you break the internet before it stays broken?

“WHAT. THE FUCK.”

“Ummmmm best girls night ever?”

“How do I get an invite??”

“So Steve is just a magnet for powerful women then. Got it.”

“#STEVESNUGGLES OMG!!!”

Steve snuggles indeed. Eddie was so used to being in the limelight, it was a strange adjustment to have his once under the radar husband be in such high demand. Every time he posted a TikTok of the band, the comments were flooded with requests for more Steve. He did sometimes cave and give the people what they wanted. Quick videos of Steve cooking them dinner while dancing to his god forsaken pop music, sneak peeks of some of their new songs with Steve singing along, and ok, one thirst trap of him working out in their home gym. Eddie was a just a man after all, and his husband was hot.

The album was finally released and sales were through the roof. Corroded Coffin had never sold so many copies before and someone from the label insisted that their TikTok presence had everything to do with it. Was it actually them, or the love for Steve? Who’s to say. Either way, their concerts across the country were sold out in a matter of minutes and the band couldn’t wait to kick off their next tour.

The first show was in LA and Eddie had planned to do a quick TikTok before they took the stage. He started in the hallway backstage, welcoming everyone to the start of the tour, and made his way into the green room. “Alright everyone, let’s check in quick with the band and make sure these dickheads are ready to go! BOYS! ARE WE - Steve?! What the hell?”

He flipped the camera around to the view of Steve happily scrolling on his phone on one of the couches. With Dua Lipa cuddled up on one side of him and Lady goddamn Gaga on the other. What the fuck is his life?

“Babe! Hi! The girls were in town and came by to check out the show!”

“I’m sorry… THE GIRLS?! How do you even know them?!”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him like he was an idiot and said, “Lipa was on SNL and she had Robin get us connected. And Jon did a photo shoot with Stef and…basically the same thing.”

Stef?! Who the fuck is Stef? Wait right… Lada Gaga is a stage name.

Eddie flipped the camera back on himself and just. Stared. “I…I don’t know what the fuck is happening.”

Queue the comments.

“Ok is he like best friends with EVERY icon?!”

“Steve IS the icon! 💅”

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some #stevesnuggles in here?!”

“Omfg Eddie’s never gonna get his own #stevesnuggles now is he?”

“SHARE THE WEALTH”

“I can’t believe this app is free”

From there on the tour went off without a hitch and fans in every city were rabid for the new album. And of course Steve. Goddamnit. He’d occasionally see people in the crowd with “#stevesnuggles” t-shirts, or hear chants of “We want Steve!” Yeah, Eddie gets it. He wants Steve too. For himself.

Eddie took to posting a lot of videos from backstage with the band, sound checks, screwing around with the crew. And of course to appease the masses, some of Steve in his element. Putting on Gareth’s eyeliner, helping Jeff pick out his stage clothes, and rubbing Eddie’s shoulders after a grueling show. Just Steve mother henning everyone.

When they made it to New York, they had an appearance on SNL a few days before their concert. They got to catch up with Robin, meet the cast, and get a feel for what went into producing the show. Eddie hadn’t heard who the host was, not that it probably mattered much since they’d only see them at the end-of-show sign off.

He was in the middle of doing a livestream behind the scenes, walking the legendary halls of Studio 8H when he popped into his dressing room to show off the digs. “And here we have my office for the night…. Uh. Stevie? What? The fuck?” He turned the camera around to see Steve snuggled up with… goddamn Beyoncé.

“Hey babe! Did you meet Bee yet? She’s hosting tonight!”

No the fuck he didn’t meet “Bee!” And sorry, his husband is already on a nickname basis with this Queen?! Who the hell did he marry??

Goodbye internet.

“HOLY. SHIT.”

“Seriously, gay men have all the luck.”

“Two absolute queens, omg”

“BEYONCÉ GETS #STEVESNUGGLES OMG!!!”

“Eddie, your husband belongs to Bee now, my condolences”

“Don’t tell Jay Z”

The show went well even though Eddie was visibly shook by his husband’s new friend. Seriously, what is his life?! How much further was this going to go? He was relieved when the tour finally ended and they could go back to their bubble of domestic bliss. That is, until the next girls night probably!

Once they were back home and settled into their routine, he realized he needed to make some more content now that things have calmed down. Privacy was always important to him, but after a night of taking his husband apart over and over, he smirked and had an idea.

Quietly grabbing his phone off the nightstand, he started recording. Steve with his chaotic sex hair, neck covered in hickies, and curled up sound asleep on Eddie’s chest. A chest that was decorated in tattoos and nipple piercings, as well as fresh scratch marks. Eddie smirked at the camera, winked and whispered “hashtag Steve snuggles.”

RIP internet.

[ataliagold]

Flowers In Your Hair

For @astrangersummer week 3 prompt 'flowers'. Title from Flowers In Your Hair by The Lumineers.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: General

W/C: 1249

Tags: Post Series 4 Volume 2, Everyone Lives, Established Steddie, Fluff, Soft Steve Harrington, Steve Loves Yellow Flowers, Eddie Loves Steve, El and Max are best friends, summer, this is just softness

Summary: Eddie enlists some help to find the perfect flowers for Steve. Despite his own insecurities, Eddie is learning that his boyfriend loves soft things.

___

“Robin, what kind of flowers does Steve like?”

Eddie was draped over the Family Video counter, having stolen the barely-working desk fan air flow for himself.

Robin paused where she was rifling through the box of returned tapes to give him a confused look. “Flowers? Really?”

Eddie threw up a hand, then regretted it, because that had taken far too much effort in the stifling heat. “What? You think a man can’t buy flowers for another man? You judging me, Buckley?”

Robin scoffed. “No. Just…why flowers?”

“It’s romantic!” Eddie whined. “We have a date tonight and Steve loves that stuff. He might not say it, but he does. On Valentine’s Day I got him chocolates and roses and you should’ve seen his face, honestly if we hadn’t been in public I probably would’ve got on my knees there and then -”

Robin leaned over and slapped a hand across his mouth. “Jesus, enough.”

Eddie grinned behind her hand, and poked his tongue out to touch Robin’s palm.

She snatched it away with a shout, fake gagging behind the counter. “Munson, that was disgusting.”

Eddie shrugged. “You love me, though.”

“Steve loves you,” Robin corrected. “And so, by extension, I’m unfortunately forced to too.” She smiled a little, taking any sting out of her words. “Seriously though, the kids are over there, watch your mouth.” She dipped her head towards the sci-fi section, where Dustin and Mike were loudly arguing over which tape to rent for their next movie night. Max and El were hanging back, Max eagerly trying to explain a movie synopsis to El. Whatever it was, it sounded violent, and El looked confused.

Eddie leaned further over the counter, letting the weak breeze from the fan flick his hair around. “Help me?” he asked, batting his eyes at Robin.

She screwed up her nose a little before responding. “Honestly, I don’t know. You said you got him roses before, right? Did he like those?”

“Well, yeah, but I think he liked the gesture more than anything else.”

Robin shrugged. “Just get him anything, then. It’s from you, so he’ll love it.”

“But I want to get his favourite,” Eddie lamented. “He deserves the best.”

“Well, I agree with you there.”

“Eddie?”

A small voice sounded behind him, and Eddie summoned the energy to turn his head. El was standing behind him, looking a little shy.

“Yeah, supergirl?”

“You wanted to know Steve’s favourite flowers?”

Eddie slid off the counter a bit, straightening up. “Yeah, I do.”

El glanced between him and Robin for a moment. “Steve used to help me and Max with our hair. When mine was longer, we would make daisy chains and Steve braided them into my hair, he even let us put them in his sometimes. We tried to use other flowers sometimes but they did not stay together very well. But Steve’s favourites are yellow ones.”

And that…made sense, Eddie supposed. Yellow was Steve’s favourite colour, after all, but Eddie wasn’t sure where to find yellow flowers. He couldn’t afford much at the florist, and what flowers were yellow, anyway? Sunflowers? Where the hell would he get those?

Robin tugged his sleeve, pulled Eddie back to the counter so she could lean over and whisper, “The Klines have yellow roses growing by their fence.”

“The old Mayor?” Eddie asked with a frown.

“Yup.”

A smile slowly spread across his face.

“There are marigolds by the school field,” El added. “And yellow violas and tulips by the cabin. I can show you.”

And that was how, a short time later, Eddie was snapping off fragrant yellow roses at the stalk where they were poking out between the stark white pickets of Larry Kline’s fence. Max and El were standing further down the footpath, acting as lookouts while Eddie huddled by the fence and took his quarry as quickly as he could.

At the first surprised shout from inside the fence, he darted away, collecting the girls with a grin as he ran past them.

He threw back his head and laughed, roses clutched in his warm hand, Max beaming beside him.

“That guy’s an asshole,” she told Eddie as they jogged away from the house. “Serves him right.”

They couldn’t move too quickly – Max’s bones had healed, but she wasn’t exactly up to a sprint across town just yet. But they made it to Eddie’s van parked around the corner, and moved on to their next stop.

Just like that, Eddie spent the afternoon traipsing along with the two girls. El showed him where to find all sorts of different flowers, and Max went along because where El went, she went. It was hot, the sun baking them from above in a cloudless sky, but Eddie didn’t care – this was for Steve.

By the time they were finished, Eddie had gathered a large handful of flowers in all different shades of yellow and orange, and the girls had wrapped them in some plastic procured from Hopper’s cabin and poured some water into the bottom to keep them fresh in the summer heat.

“There,” El told him proudly, handing over the bouquet while Max tried to find some ribbon in a drawer to tie around it. “They’re pretty. Like Steve.”

Eddie spluttered a little at El’s directness. “Oh…yeah. Yeah, they are. He is.”

El nodded. “Max often says so, too.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Max yelled from El’s room.

Eddie smirked, because the girl’s little crush on his boyfriend was no secret. “It’s ok Max, I agree with you.”

Max stomped back towards them, slapped a length of gold ribbon into Eddie’s hands, and then took El’s arm and pulled her back towards the room.

Effectively dismissed, Eddie returned to his trailer to rush through a shower and getting changed, barely with enough time left to get to Steve’s before their dinner plans.

Waiting in front of his boyfriend’s door, Eddie passed the bouquet from hand to hand, a little nervous.

This is stupid.

Steve Harrington, former jock supreme, once-captain of the basketball team, nail-bat wielding badass wasn’t going to appreciate some yellow flowers.

Eddie almost turned tail. Almost tossed the flowers into the back of his van to be dealt with later, almost gave in to the nerves in his stomach.

Almost.

Because there was a softness to Steve that Eddie was learning to know and love. It was in the way he treated the kids, the way he gently held Eddie’s hand, the way he baked cookies when his friends were coming over and apparently braided flowers into the girls’ hair.

Eddie took a deep breath, clutched his yellow flowers, and knocked on the door.

It opened after a moment.

“Eds, hey, sorry I just gotta get my shoes on -” Steve trailed off as he took in the sight of Eddie standing there, flowers gripped in shaky hands.

Eddie cleared his throat, held out the bouquet. “For you. If, um…if you want them. Sorry if it’s stupid, I wanted to get you something but I couldn’t afford much and El told me you liked yellow flowers so I spent the afternoon going around town and finding them, and the roses actually involved some petty theft but -”

Steve took the flowers with one hand, and pulled Eddie through the door with the other, lips seeking his mouth and swallowing the rest of his sentence.

When they finally pulled apart, Eddie smiled shyly. “You like them, then?”

“I love them, Eds.”

___

[sidekick-hero]

Phoenix

(steddie | explicit | 7.4k | AO3 | tags: porn with fluff, rock star eddie, roadie steve, canon divergence - eddie lives and cc gets famous)

The most talented @firefly-party drew some gorgeous art of Eddie enjoying some cake 😏🍑 and this inspired this fic. Lots of love go out to @hbyrde36 and @pearynice for being amazing cheerleaders and beta readers 💜

Excerpt

A loud throat-clearing cuts through the haze, and Steve opens his eyes to see Gareth, sitting with a wicked grin, tossing a crumpled-up piece of paper at Eddie’s back. “Oi, lovebirds,” he says, “save those bedroom eyes for the actual bedroom, Munson.”

Eddie grins, unashamed, flashing Gareth a mock salute. “I don’t need a bedroom for bedroom activities, losers.”

Jeff leans casually against the wall, arms crossed, smirking. “Can’t say I’m surprised. You two always manage to bring your own kind of encore,” he teases, waggling his eyebrows in a way that’s both exaggerated and somehow fond.

From across the room, their sound tech, Lucy, chuckles as she shoves a bag into her duffel. “Guess the ‘Phoenix’ isn’t the only thing heating up tonight,” she jokes, grinning at Steve’s half-embarrassed, half-amused expression.

“And he'll rise again and again and again,” tones Frank’s dry voice, making Eddie cackle and waggle his eyebrows at Steve.

Jeff groans at the horrible innuendos. “Don’t mind us, we’re heading out anyway. Figured we’d leave you two to, ah, continue the celebration?”

Eddie flashes them all a shameless grin, winking as he wraps an arm around Steve’s waist. “You all sound jealous,” he quips, barely missing a beat.

Gareth laughs, grabbing his jacket. “Oh, trust me, I’m good. Those pants are enough of a show by themselves,” he teases, smirking. “But seriously—thanks for sparing us the rest.”

As the last few crew members file out, tossing in good-natured jabs and rolling their eyes, Jeff gives Steve a pat on the back. “You’ve got him all to yourself now, Harrington,” he says with a smirk. “Don’t wear him out too much. We’ve still got another show tomorrow.”

And with a final chorus of laughter and a few mock wolf whistles, the door swings shut, leaving them in blissful privacy.

Steve sighs, his forehead still resting against Eddie’s, his own grin breaking through as they’re finally alone. “Well,” he murmurs, voice low, “now, where were we?”

“You mean before you were trying to ravage me in front of our friends?” Eddie says with a shit-eating grin, as if Steve were the only one acting like a love-struck teenager.

Read the rest on AO3

For everyone who rather reads on here, have the whole fic under the cut.

Phoenix

The arena is almost silent as the lights go out, the applause fading into a hush as everyone around him holds their breath. It’s as if they’ve all merged into one living entity, one organism waiting for the band to return and deliver the encore they’re all craving.

Corroded Coffin’s encores have become legendary among their fans. Mostly because of Eddie.

Of course.

Steve can’t blame them. He’s never been able to take his eyes off him either. In any room, no matter what was happening, the moment Eddie came alive, when that inner light blazed through, Steve was captivated. It’s no surprise he isn’t the only one, but he finds comfort in knowing he was one of the first.

They all fell in love with Eddie Munson, the rock star. Steve fell in love with Eddie Munson, the nerd. The part-time drug dealer, the super senior, the dungeon master. He fell for the brave man who was willing to die for a town that hated him and the man his kids trusted and looked up to.

That very man is now strutting back onto the stage, his silhouette barely visible in the dim twilight of the arena. But Steve would recognize him anywhere. Besides, he knows what’s coming—he’s heard Eddie excitedly ramble about his plans while they lay in bed, Eddie’s head resting in Steve’s lap as his fingers combed through damp curls, untangling them before they dried after his shower.

This is the first time they’re playing this particular song, Phoenix. It’s about someone dying so they can finally live, and only their tight-knit circle knows just how much truth is behind it. The song is Eddie’s way of processing what happened during that fateful week in the spring of '86. But, like most of Eddie’s songs, it’s also a love song.

A love song for Steve.

Eddie sings about a man burning in hell to rise from the ashes, hands lifting him to soar again, flying higher and higher, fueled by love instead of air beneath his wings. It’s classic Eddie—telling Steve he loves him in front of thousands of people, with words that sound like they’re straight out of one of those fantasy novels Eddie and the kids all love so much.

The whole band is on fire—literally—because their show features some wild pyro effects. Steve hadn’t been thrilled when Eddie first floated the idea of setting parts of the stage ablaze. He was even less enthusiastic when Gareth and Eddie began talking about adding flames to their outfits. To Steve, that was practically asking for disaster. But, as usual, he hadn’t been able to resist Eddie’s big brown puppy eyes for long.

Now, watching them perform, Steve has to admit it works. The fire dances across the stage in time with the music, bursts of flame punctuating every explosive guitar riff. Smoke swirls in sync with the pounding drums, and sparks rain down like stars during the climactic solo, making it feel as though the whole arena is caught in the heat of the moment. It’s pure chaos, and yet, somehow, it’s beautiful.

As Phoenix reaches its crescendo, Eddie steps into the heart of the flames, the light catching his silhouette as though he’s rising from the ashes himself. His voice soars above the roaring crowd, each note carrying both the weight of the past and the promise of a future. The audience, already mesmerized, holds its breath as Eddie holds the final note, arms outstretched, as if he’s daring the fire to consume him.

There’s a beat of stunned silence, and then the whole arena erupts into a roaring applause. People are whistling and cheering, Steve among them. Sue him, but even after a year of doing this with Eddie, he’s still in awe of how good Eddie and the other guys are. They’re a garage band from some small town in bumfuck Indiana, but the moment they step on stage, they have the crowd completely under their spell. Steve had read an article about Corroded Coffin that said all guys want to be them and all girls want to be their lovers.

He disagrees. He’s pretty sure some of these girls wouldn’t mind rocking on stage themselves, and Steve knows from experience that some of the guys definitely want to be their boyfriends, too.

The only difference between Steve and those guys? While they all want Eddie, Steve is the one who gets to take him home every night.

How he got so lucky is still beyond him. For months, Steve had been convinced he’d ruined everything between them before they ever got a real chance. And now he’s the one Eddie Munson calls sweetheart, darling, princess. The one he calls Love.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, you’ve been wonderful tonight. Your high esteem has fed us well, and we’ll repay the favor with another firestorm of a concert very soon. So keep your eyes peeled for the announcement. Until then, remember to be the menaces you’re meant to be, and rock on! We are Corroded Coffin, the devil’s own jesters, and this has been another glorious night of our Rituals tour!”

The lights go out after Eddie’s final words, and with another round of thunderous applause, a single spotlight highlights each band member, giving them their moment to shine before darkness swallows the stage. Steve knows it gives the band time to slip away before the crowd starts to disperse.

Back when Steve first started at their shows as a roadie, a fan had somehow tricked security into believing she was part of the crew. In the general chaos of people leaving, no one questioned her as she followed them all the way to the green room. She’d launched herself at Eddie, knocking him over onto the hard concrete. He’d only ended up with a few bruises, but he hit his head, and the headache lasted well into the next day, making him feel miserable. Worse still, it made his old scars ache in sympathy.

Steve had been livid.

After, Steve had been adamant that the band needed to invest in more security—less access for the public, stricter controls, the whole nine yards. Eddie, Frank, and Jeff didn’t want to hear any of it. To Steve’s surprise, it was Gareth who found a compromise for them. The head start they get now is part of it. Another is the presence of Sam and James, two guys built like tanks, who travel with the band and keep things secure backstage, on the tour bus, and everywhere in between.

Except for Eddie, who’s Steve’s to keep safe—and he takes that job seriously.

Which is why he packs up on stage as fast as humanly possible, only to be shooed away by Anna, the head of stage design. She oversees cleanup and can tell Steve is practically vibrating out of his skin to get to Eddie.

“You’re stressing me the hell out, Harrington. Go check on your man before you have a heart attack or something equally dramatic that’ll keep us here longer than necessary. And take that amp with you—put those guns to use,” she adds, gesturing at his biceps.

It’s a testament to how desperately he wants to see Eddie that he doesn’t protest, just salutes her and grabs the amp. “Thanks, Anna. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, waving him off. “To be young and in love again.”

“You’re 34, not ancient.”

“I’m not Munson, Harrington—flattery doesn’t work on me. Now shoo, before I change my mind and leave you to clean up the whole stage yourself.”

That's all the encouragement he needs to make a hasty retreat. As fast as he can, he heads backstage to the green room, where the band is no doubt coming down from their post-show high.

As Steve nears the green room, he can already hear laughter and excited chatter. Eddie’s voice rings out the loudest—it always does—but he can also pick out Jeff’s deep rumble and Gareth’s indignant “Oi!” He’s probably been teased again. The happy sounds make Steve pick up his pace, and as he rounds the last corner, he nearly barrels into Sam.

“Careful, Ozzy,” Sam laughs, dodging aside with surprising grace for someone his size. When Steve had first started tagging along, the crew had looked a little skeptical of his preppy outfits, which stuck out among the metalheads and crew members, who dress more for comfort and utility. Eddie, in his usual fashion, had vouched for him, regaling everyone with a heavily edited story about how Steve had once bitten the head off a bat to save them. Steve's scars, which matched Eddie's own, had helped sell the story. It had earned him coolness points and the nickname "Ozzy”.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. You probably wouldn’t even feel it if I charged you with a battering ram.”

“Stop flirting with my boyfriend, Ozzy,” comes James’ teasing voice. “I think you’ve got your hands full with your own.” Steve knows James isn’t actually jealous—anyone with eyes can see he’s completely gone on Eddie. Robin’s words, not his. She’d visited them about three months ago during a break in the tour and had teased him mercilessly. Steve plans to return the favor once she finds someone who steals her heart. It’s what best friends do.

“Speaking of—think you could open the door for me?” Steve nods at the amp he’s still carrying. “My hands are full, and this thing’s getting heavy.”

“Sure thing,” Sam says, already moving to open the door as James smirks at Steve.

“Your game’s slipping, Oz. Pretty soon you won’t even be able to toss Munson around.”

“What a sad day that would be,” chimes a familiar voice as the door swings open, revealing Eddie’s grinning face. He winks at Steve. “But that day’ll never come, right, big boy?”

“Never,” Steve promises as he sets the amp down and immediately sweeps Eddie off his feet, pulling him into his arms. Eddie whoops loudly, then breaks into manic laughter, clearly riding high on adrenaline and endorphins.

Steve lets Eddie slide down his body, his hands resting firmly on Eddie’s hips, holding him close as Eddie beams down at him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie says, voice warm and a bit breathless.

“Hey, baby. You look happy.”

Leaning in until their noses are almost touching, Eddie grins and says, “That’s because I am! Did you see us, Stevie? We rocked! I told you, Phoenix needed fire. They loved it, didn’t they?”

Steve rubs their noses together, his heart swelling at how excited—and just plain adorable—Eddie is after a good show.

“They loved you,” he says proudly, his voice going rough. “But they can’t have you.”

Eddie’s grin turns mischievous. “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yes,” Steve almost growls. He knows exactly where this is headed, but he can’t resist. Something about the way Eddie commands the stage and the way people respond to him always stirs Steve’s more possessive side.

Good thing Eddie loves it.

“And why is that?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer, but playing along. It feels like they’re the only two in the room, though Steve knows everyone else is well-accustomed to their little ritual by now.

Another growl rises in Steve’s chest. “Because you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Eddie agrees, and finally leans in to kiss him.

It stays gentle and innocent for all of five seconds before Eddie, ever the troublemaker, lets out a quiet moan against Steve’s lips. It’s a sound that’s practically Pavloved Steve into instant reaction; he bites down on Eddie’s lower lip, slipping his tongue into Eddie’s willing mouth when he gasps in response. The familiar shock of Eddie’s tongue piercing, cool and metallic against his own tongue, is addictive, a reminder of just how intoxicatingly Eddie he is. And as soon as he catches that taste of energy drink Eddie always downs like water before a show, Steve is completely done for.

He couldn’t say exactly why—certainly not in this moment, when he’s all lust and love and instinct, and not even later when his head isn’t so full of EddieEddieEddie. Maybe it’s because that taste, coupled with the playful brush of that piercing, makes everything feel so real. Tangible. No one else knows the slightly off-putting tang of that artificial drink on Eddie’s tongue, or the way the cold steel feels against his lip as Eddie’s tongue brushes past it. It’s not something he could’ve imagined back when he used to daydream about kissing Eddie in Hawkins, when they’d still been circling each other. Watching, waiting, pining.

They let themselves get carried away, hands wandering over sweat-soaked clothes, slipping beneath them and feeling slick skin, neither of them having had a moment to shower or change. Not that they care. They’ve seen, touched, tasted each other like this a hundred times, and to Steve, it’s just one more part of this that feels undeniable. Real.

Eddie’s right hand finds its way into Steve’s hair, gripping just the right amount of tight, while his other hand explores the skin beneath Steve’s tank top. His fingers skim along the waistband of Steve’s pants, light and teasing, and it’s maddening how much Steve wants him to dive deeper, to put those skilled fingers to use. Steve’s own hands are busy, shoved down the back pockets of Eddie’s nearly scandalous leather pants, kneading the flesh beneath as he pulls Eddie even closer.

It’s only when Eddie slips a leg between Steve’s spread ones, his thigh pressing deliciously against him, that Steve feels his knees go weak. Pulling away from Eddie’s mouth takes what feels like Herculean strength, and he only just manages to break the kiss, his forehead pressed to his boyfriend’s as they both pant, breaths coming in heavy and warm. The sound is loud enough to almost drown out the creaking of someone shifting in an old chair nearby.

That’s when Steve remembers they’re not alone in the room.

A loud throat-clearing cuts through the haze, and Steve opens his eyes to see Gareth, sitting with a wicked grin, tossing a crumpled-up piece of paper at Eddie’s back. “Oi, lovebirds,” he says, “save those bedroom eyes for the actual bedroom, Munson.”

Eddie grins, unashamed, flashing Gareth a mock salute. “I don’t need a bedroom for bedroom activities, losers.”

Jeff leans casually against the wall, arms crossed, smirking. “Can’t say I’m surprised. You two always manage to bring your own kind of encore,” he teases, waggling his eyebrows in a way that’s both exaggerated and somehow fond.

From across the room, their sound tech, Lucy, chuckles as she shoves a bag into her duffel. “Guess the ‘Phoenix’ isn’t the only thing heating up tonight,” she jokes, grinning at Steve’s half-embarrassed, half-amused expression.

“And he'll rise again and again and again,” tones Frank’s dry voice, making Eddie cackle and waggle his eyebrows at Steve.

Jeff groans at the horrible innuendos. “Don’t mind us, we’re heading out anyway. Figured we’d leave you two to, ah, continue the celebration?”

Eddie flashes them all a shameless grin, winking as he wraps an arm around Steve’s waist. “You all sound jealous,” he quips, barely missing a beat.

Gareth laughs, grabbing his jacket. “Oh, trust me, I’m good. Those pants are enough of a show by themselves,” he teases, smirking. “But seriously—thanks for sparing us the rest.”

As the last few crew members file out, tossing in good-natured jabs and rolling their eyes, Jeff gives Steve a pat on the back. “You’ve got him all to yourself now, Harrington,” he says with a smirk. “Don’t wear him out too much. We’ve still got another show tomorrow.”

And with a final chorus of laughter and a few mock wolf whistles, the door swings shut, leaving them in blissful privacy.

Steve sighs, his forehead still resting against Eddie’s, his own grin breaking through as they’re finally alone. “Well,” he murmurs, voice low, “now, where were we?”

“You mean before you were trying to ravage me in front of our friends?” Eddie says with a shit-eating grin, as if Steve were the only one acting like a love-struck teenager. Steve would be more annoyed if it weren’t for the happy flutter in his chest when Eddie says, “our friends.” An image flashes through his mind, unbidden—Dustin, animated and in charge, leading a round of their fantasy game, the same one Eddie used to lead. Steve remembers watching, his heart aching like an open wound, because by then, Eddie had been gone for three months.

Steve had let him go.

Eddie had asked Steve to come with him, his head on Steve’s chest as they lay tangled in Eddie’s bed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have to go, Stevie. This town is killing me. But I don’t want to go without you. Please, come with me. Let us be free together.”

But Steve had said no. He'd told himself it was for the kids, that they needed someone to stay and look after them. But deep down he knew that wasn't the real reason. At least not the whole reason. He didn't say no because he didn't want to go with Eddie, but because he wanted it too much. Wanting things, wanting people too much had left its mark, and some of those scars still ached some days, worse than his physical ones, the phantom pain of a broken heart and shattered dreams. Eddie had asked him why, his voice trembling, and Steve had lied, making Eddie believe there was nothing between them that warranted uprooting his whole life. It was the only way to set Eddie free, even if it meant breaking both their hearts. His own fears and insecurities were not going to be the thing that stopped Eddie from making his own dreams come true.

“I think I was telling you about the show,” Eddie says, breaking Steve from the painful memory with a grin. “What’d you think, Stevie? Rockstar-worthy?”

The question brings him back, though the ache of the past lingers in his chest. His voice is quieter, more earnest than he intended. “More than that. I always knew you were born for this, Eds. That people should hear your stories, see you, and the wonder you are.”

He knows he’s gone too deep, missed the playful mark by a mile. But Eddie, who’s all brashness and boldness on the surface, can read Steve better than anyone. Sensing the shift, he meets Steve’s gaze with a softness that’s rare and achingly sincere.

“I only ever needed one person to see me, Stevie.”

Now, Steve believes Eddie. It hadn’t always been like that, though. He’d struggled to accept that Eddie truly wanted him—Steve Harrington, the guy who’d peaked in high school, who didn’t have much to show now that the world wasn’t ending and no one needed him to swing his nail-studded bat, or throw himself between monsters and the people he loved.

His doubts had almost cost him the chance to be loved the way he’d always dreamed.

Gazing into Eddie’s warm, dark eyes, filled with so much love and sincerity it almost hurt to look at, Steve decided to push down the strange wave of melancholy that had crept over him. Eddie was here, they were here, and Steve wasn’t going to waste another second thinking about the past and the what-ifs. He’d focus instead on showing Eddie just how rockstar-worthy he truly was.

“Is that so?” Steve asks, his tone coy as he ducks his head just enough to look up at Eddie from beneath his lashes. His fingers trail slowly up Eddie’s stomach and chest, and with his voice dropping to a low, inviting register, he murmurs, “What if he wants to see more of you?”

Eddie searches his face, the shift in mood not lost on him. For a moment, it looks like he’s deciding whether to let Steve get away with it or press him about the strange melancholy that had surfaced just moments ago. But then a slow smile spreads across those full lips, and Steve feels the thrill of Eddie giving in.

“Mmm,” Eddie muses aloud, his gaze mischievous. “I think he’ll have to wait for that. Earn it, really.”

“How?” Steve asks, his voice barely more than a breath, eager and completely captivated.

Eddie leans in, nosing his way along the line of Steve’s jaw until he reaches his ear. “Be a good boy, of course.”

A shiver ripples through Steve’s body, though he couldn’t say if it’s from Eddie’s warm breath on that sensitive patch of skin or from the words themselves.

Steve’s breath hitches, and he fights to keep his composure, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “And if I’m not?” he teases, his voice low but challenging, tilting his head to give Eddie even better access to his neck.

Eddie chuckles, his lips ghosting just below Steve’s ear. “Then I’ll have to remind you who’s in charge here,” he murmurs, voice warm and rough, a promise wrapped in mischief.

Steve lets out a shaky laugh, his fingers curling into the leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Guess I’ll have to be extra good, then,” he replies, his tone daring but with that undeniable note of surrender only Eddie could pull from him.

The sharp nip of Eddie’s teeth sinking into the tender skin just above Steve’s pulse point quickly gives way to pleasure as his tongue soothes over the bite. “That’s right,” Eddie murmurs against the spit-slick skin, his voice low and warm. “So be a good boy and lay down on that amp you oh-so-helpfully carried in here.”

It takes Steve a beat to process, his brain a little scrambled from the emotional whiplash of the past few moments—pride, love, possessiveness, melancholy, lust, and back to love, all tumbling through him. He blinks up at Eddie, parsing out the command, and Eddie arches an eyebrow, giving the amp a pointed look.

With a playful bite of his lower lip, Steve nods and, after stealing one more quick kiss, saunters over, hips swaying just enough to make Eddie’s gaze darken. The back-and-forth between them is new to Steve, something he never had with the girls he dated before, this easy way they can trade roles, each giving and taking as they like, slipping between comfort and thrill with ease.

Right now, Steve’s perfectly ready to take whatever Eddie has in mind.

The amp’s just high enough that he doesn’t have to contort too much to lie on it, bracing his upper body on his forearms comfortably. Not exactly nap material, but he isn’t here to relax. It lets him tilt his hips, though, and he pushes his ass out in invitation, casting a look over his shoulder to find Eddie watching him with wide, hungry eyes, his hand pressed firmly against himself.

“You wanna take a picture?” Steve teases, wiggling his ass with a grin. “Or are you finally gonna put your money where your mouth is?”

Eddie’s startled laugh echoes in the empty room, and Steve’s grin widens, his heart racing at how fun it is to let loose with Eddie like this.

At last Eddie moves, taking off his leather jacket before closing the distance between them, and his hands settle on Steve's hips, firm and possessive. “Oh, I’m definitely putting my mouth somewhere, princess.”

With a teasing slowness, Eddie’s hands slide from Steve’s hips around to his front, fingers working open the button on his cargo pants. He takes his time, drawing out each motion—the button popping, the zipper sliding down, every small movement building up the anticipation until the air between them practically hums. Bit by bit, Eddie tugs Steve’s pants and underwear down over his hips, savoring every inch of skin he exposes to the cool air and his hungry gaze.

Steve’s patience frays fast, and with a breathless whine, he finally mutters, “Eddie, come on.”

Eddie just chuckles, then nips at the small heart-shaped tattoo on Steve's left buttock. While Eddie's body is littered with black ink, this is Steve's only one so far. Eddie had talked Steve into it when he came with him to get the Phoenix tattooed on his left arm. “I’m unwrapping my favorite present here, babe. Gotta savor it.”

Steve barely has time to roll his eyes before Eddie’s mouth descends once again, and this time it’s warm lips and tongue tracing a slow line along the curve of his lower back, licking up the faint sheen of sweat gathered there. The heat of Eddie’s mouth steals the words right from him, and instead a rough “Fuck” slips out, loud and unfiltered.

“That’s the idea, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, sounding downright smug. “But first? I’m treating myself to a sweet little appetizer.”

Steve finds out exactly what Eddie means when his tongue dips lower, slipping between his cheeks with a slow, tantalizing precision. His pants are still bunched around his upper thighs, limiting his movement, but as always, Eddie makes the most of the space he has.

The heat of Eddie’s tongue leaves a burning trail down his skin, edging closer to where Steve wants him most, while Eddie’s hands grip his hips and pull up his tank top, his hold firm and anchoring, as if grounding them both in the pleasure building between them. But just as Steve expects Eddie to go further, he pulls back, taking his time sliding Steve’s pants all the way off, leaving him bare from the waist down.

“God, would you look at this? Fuck, I still can’t believe it sometimes,” Eddie mutters, his voice thick with reverence. “Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson gets to have the most gorgeous guy in the world. Part of me wishes I could show you off to everyone right now, do this to you up on stage, so they’d know exactly how lucky I am.”

The thought sends a thrill through Steve—a fantasy he’s toyed with more than once. It’s one of those ideas they’ll never act on, but one that he loves to imagine just the same.

“But hey, this is the next best thing,” Eddie continues, still kneeling behind him, his hands sliding up Steve’s legs, fingertips pressing into the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. “Right here, where anyone could walk in, could see you with your ass up like this for me. And they’d be so damn jealous. But they don’t get you—you’re mine, just like I’m yours.”

As if sealing his words, Eddie spreads him open and lets a warm trail of saliva slide down, glistening as it slips toward his entrance. Steve can’t see him from this angle, but he can feel Eddie’s gaze, heavy and possessive, just before he leans back in, his tongue pressing deep, the metal of his piercing gracing the sensitive skin of his entrance, sending a shiver down Steve’s spine.

Steve feels like he’s going out of his mind, the way Eddie holds him down, keeping his hips pinned firmly in place, letting Steve have only as much as he’s willing to give. It’s torture—he wants to push back, to make Eddie’s tongue delve deeper, faster. But Eddie’s having none of it. For all his usual impatience and impulsiveness, in moments like this, Eddie becomes a master of restraint, driving Steve up the wall with it.

It’s infuriating. It’s maddening. It’s also the single hottest thing Steve’s ever experienced.

His breathing is rough, coming in shallow pants that mix with the filthy, wet sounds filling the room as he loses himself in the relentless, almost lazy pace Eddie keeps. Eddie’s tongue teases, sliding in with agonizing slowness, while his content, low hums add a pulse of heat through Steve’s body. Eddie pauses now and then to add more spit, until Steve’s slick, almost dripping, every nerve thrumming with need.

“Edd-die,” he gasps, his voice thin with desperation, almost lost beneath the steady, obscene rhythm. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

He’s shamelessly begging now, but doesn’t care. Eddie lives to hear him beg, and maybe, just maybe, Steve can get what he wants, too.

Eddie chuckles low, his tone one of pure satisfaction. “Please what, my love?”

Of course, he’d make Steve say it. Typical. Alright then, two can play this game, Steve thinks and decides to see just how steady Eddie’s self-control really is.

“Please,” he says, his tone turning breathy, edging into desperate pleading. “Please, give me that thick cock. Fill me so deep I can taste it. Make me take it, make me yours. Make me forget everything—everyone—but you, fucking me so good.”

Eddie growls, the sound low and guttural, and Steve smirks, triumphant.

Checkmate.

A finger suddenly presses at his entrance, sliding in easily where he’s already loose and wet from Eddie’s mouth and tongue. Steve arches back, pushing onto the finger, forcing it deeper with a groan that earns him a low chuckle.

“So greedy,” Eddie murmurs, his voice thick with approval as he works his finger in and out with a steady rhythm. Soon, he adds a second finger, stretching him open, sliding in with only the slightest resistance. There’s a slow burn, one he welcomes, letting it remind him how real this all is.

“Look at you,” Eddie muses, voice dark and low. “So needy, taking it so well. I wanted to take my time with you tonight—take you apart, bit by bit, until you were wrecked.” He pauses, letting his fingers curl inside. “But you just wouldn’t let me, huh?”

Steve shudders, Eddie’s words digging deeper than his touch, leaving him desperate and tingling all over. Eddie’s tone is playful, a tease threaded with adoration, and Steve knows he’s on the edge of getting everything he wants, even if Eddie just can’t resist drawing it out. Clenching down on Eddie’s fingers, he says with a challenging grin, “There’s lube in my pocket. Right side.”

Eddie’s breath hitches, his fingers stilling just for a moment before he drops his forehead onto the small of Steve’s back with a heartfelt groan. “You’ll be the death of me, Stevie. God, I love you.”

Steve laughs, even as his voice comes out shaky. “I love you, too. Now, would you please hurry up and fuck me already before I die of old age?”

Eddie’s laugh vibrates against his spine as he reaches down and into Steve’s pocket, retrieving the lube with a triumphant little sound. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry. I’m about to make sure every second counts.”

Steve is counting on it.

He watches as Eddie tears open the corner of the small lube satchel with his teeth, his other hand still buried deep inside Steve. Their eyes lock, and Eddie throws him a cheeky wink before drizzling the cool liquid directly over where his fingers are working him open. The sharp contrast of the chill against his heated skin sends a shiver racing up Steve’s spine.

Eddie spreads the lube with practiced ease, his thumb joining in to work it deeper. His movements are confident, deliberate, and Steve can’t help but marvel at how well they’ve come to know each other’s bodies. He thinks back to their first time: the fumbling hands, lube smeared everywhere, hesitant stops and whispered reassurances, mixed with laughter and tender kisses. Now, there’s a rhythm between them, a deep familiarity that doesn’t dull the edge of excitement but makes it sweeter, more profound.

Steve’s awareness narrows to the sensation of Eddie’s fingers stroking inside him, teasing just right. Meanwhile, Eddie’s mouth and tongue explore every inch of skin they can reach, leaving trails of wet heat in their wake. Time becomes meaningless, and Steve lets go completely, unbothered by the sounds spilling from his lips or how desperately he’s moving into Eddie’s touch. He’s pliant, undone, surrendering himself fully to the moment.

And then, suddenly, Eddie’s fingers withdraw. Steve lets out a whine of protest, his body already aching for more.

Placing a soothing kiss over Steve’s heart tattoo, Eddie murmurs, “Shhh, sweetheart, I’m just giving you what you want.”

Anticipation coils tight in Steve’s belly as the emptiness makes him hyper-aware of every nerve ending. Seconds stretch into agonizing hours before he feels the thick head of Eddie’s cock pressing against his slick entrance.

“Ready, love?” Eddie asks, his voice low and warm.

“Please,” Steve breathes, his entire body taut with need.

Eddie doesn’t waste another moment. He pushes in slowly, steadily, until his hips are flush against Steve’s. Even with the careful preparation and Steve’s eagerness, it’s still a lot, and he sucks in a sharp breath, needing a moment to adjust. Sensing this, Eddie stills, his hand sliding forward to find Steve’s. He intertwines their fingers, squeezing gently, a silent reminder that they’re in this together.

A bead of sweat trickles down Steve’s temple as he exhales deliberately, forcing his body to relax. He squeezes Eddie’s hand in return, grounding himself in the connection.

“I’m ready,” he says softly, his voice steady. “You can move.”

Months ago, Eddie might have asked again, just to be sure, but now he trusts Steve’s word implicitly. He responds with a reassuring squeeze to Steve’s hip before pulling out almost entirely and sinking back in just as slowly. The deliberate drag of Eddie’s cock has Steve’s nerves sparking like live wires, every inch of the stretch intense and maddeningly good.

Steve lifts their joined hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s knuckles. His voice comes out wrecked, raw with need.

“Faster,” he pleads, his breath hitching. “Please.”

As much as Eddie loves to tease, drawing out both their pleasure until Steve feels like he’s teetering on the edge of madness, he loves giving Steve what he wants even more. And tonight, Steve has been a very good boy—just like Eddie had asked. So when Eddie withdraws again only to slam back in without hesitation, setting a relentless pace, Steve knows this is his reward.

“Fuck, how are you always so tight?” Eddie mutters, his voice hoarse and awestruck.

The question isn’t meant to be answered, and Steve is far too gone to respond anyway. Instead, he pushes back into every thrust, letting the intense, repeated sensation of Eddie filling him wipe away any semblance of coherent thought. His cock hangs heavy and aching, no doubt dripping pre-cum onto the floor beneath them. For a fleeting moment, a hysterical image pops into his head: one of them slipping in it, both crashing down, stark naked.

But then Eddie’s next thrust slams right into his prostate, obliterating the thought entirely. What escapes Steve’s lips isn’t laughter but a long, shameless moan.

“There—fuck, there,” he gasps, his voice raw with need, urging Eddie to do it again.

Eddie doesn’t disappoint. Now that he’s found the perfect angle, his thrusts hit that spot with precision, sending sharp jolts of pleasure coursing through Steve’s body. Each impact wrings high-pitched, breathless ah, ah, ahs from him as he clings to the amp for stability, every muscle taut and trembling. The pleasure is building fast, a searing heat that coils tight in his belly, but it’s not enough.

Steve’s cock pulses painfully, desperate for attention, but he can’t reach it. His arms are trapped beneath him, and trying to shift even a fraction risks toppling them both. The need is maddening, almost unbearable, and his whimpers grow louder as frustration mixes with the overwhelming stimulation.

When the constant onslaught skirts the edge of too much, his moans turn to pleading whines, raw and vulnerable. He’s close, so close, but he needs just a little more.

“Shhh,” Eddie coos, slowing his thrusts as his hand rubs soothing circles over Steve’s back. “What is it, baby?”

The change in pace gives Steve a reprieve from the relentless pounding against his prostate. He sags forward, caught in the strange limbo of both relief and frustration, his need to come still burning hot and bright in his groin.

“I’m so close, but I need…” he trails off, his voice cracking with emotion. The sound mortifies him, and the tears edging into his tone threaten to spill over. Eddie stills entirely, his concern immediate.

“What do you need? I’ll give you everything, love, anything you want.” Before Steve can manage a response, Eddie drapes himself over his back, the weight of him grounding, the motion pushing him deeper inside. His lips brush the shell of Steve’s ear, and he whispers, “You need my hand? Want me to touch that pretty cock of yours, gorgeous?”

Steve lets out a soft, desperate whine, his body trembling. It’s all the answer Eddie needs.

Eddie’s arm snakes around Steve’s chest, his palm resting gently against his throat—not squeezing, just holding, steadying him. His other hand slides down and wraps around Steve’s aching cock. Steve shudders at the first firm stroke, the slickness of pre-cum making each movement smooth and electric.

“I—I won’t last long,” Steve manages, his voice wrecked as the coil in his belly winds tighter with each pump of Eddie’s hand.

Eddie nips at Steve’s earlobe, his voice rough with lust. “Don’t worry, baby. Me neither. I’ve been on edge since you walked in carrying that stupid amp, wearing that indecent outfit, showing off those arms like some kind of wet dream.”

Despite the intensity of the moment, Steve laughs, the motion jolting Eddie’s cock inside him. He clenches involuntarily, drawing a deep moan from Eddie that vibrates against his skin. “What the hell is indecent about a black tank top and cargo pants?”

“You wearing them.” Eddie’s tone is all duh, and it sends another wave of laughter spilling from Steve’s lips.

“You fucking sap,” Steve teases, the love in his voice unmistakable.

“Oh no, you’re fucking a sap, sweetheart,” Eddie shoots back, his cheekiness undiminished. “Now, how about you take what you need, huh? Fuck yourself on my cock, use my hand while you’re at it.”

Only Eddie could turn cheesy banter into something this hot, and Steve has no intention of arguing.

With Eddie’s arm propping him up, Steve finds just enough leverage to move. He thrusts forward into Eddie’s hand, the tight circle of his boyfriend’s fingers sparking pleasure through him, before shifting back to impale himself again. He angles his hips, seeking that perfect spot, brushing it just enough to send sparks shooting up his spine. Combined with the steady friction of Eddie’s hand, it’s almost too much to bear.

The improvised rhythm of his movements grows frantic as he races toward the edge. Behind him, Eddie’s breaths come hot and fast against his neck, and his grip tightens, keeping Steve grounded even as he comes undone.

“You’re so sexy, baby,” Eddie pants, his voice raw with emotion and lust. “Fuck, I’m the luckiest guy alive. I love you so much.”

Trust Eddie to pour his heart out in the middle of this. And trust Steve to have those words be what finally pushes him over the edge.

Steve’s orgasm tears through him like a wildfire, leaving him shaking and breathless. It feels like it goes on forever, each wave dragging him deeper into a blissful haze until his legs threaten to buckle beneath him. Eddie’s arms tighten around him, steadying him as he continues thrusting, fucking Steve through his release, drawing out every last drop of pleasure.

When the high begins to fade, Steve’s nerves flare with overstimulation. Eddie’s movements, once perfect, now teeter on the edge of too much. A shudder ripples through Steve, a mix of cooling sweat and discomfort making him tremble.

Eddie stills immediately, in tune with him as always. “Want me to pull out?” he asks softly. “I can finish in my hand. Two pulls, max.” His voice is gentle, full of love and concern, and it makes Steve’s heart ache in the best way.

“No,” Steve murmurs, voice still shaky. “I want to feel it. Want to know I’m yours—wet and dripping with your cum while we walk to the car.”

“Jesus, Stevie,” Eddie groans, his hips twitching involuntarily.

“Come on, baby,” Steve encourages, voice husky and teasing. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

That’s all Eddie needs. He grips Steve tighter, hauling him upright so their bodies are flush. His chest presses against Steve’s back, his arm locks around Steve’s waist, and he moves with renewed intensity. Eddie’s hips snap against him, each thrust urgent, driven by need and love. He buries his face in Steve’s neck, grunting and panting, entirely lost in the moment.

It doesn’t take long. Eddie’s rhythm falters, his breath catching. “Fuck, Steve—fuckfuckfuck,” he groans, voice breaking as he spills inside him, warmth flooding between them.

They collapse together, Steve barely catching himself on trembling arms before he face-plants into the amp. Eddie slumps against him, muttering a soft, “Sorry—can’t feel my legs.”

Steve bursts into laughter, his body shaking with it. Eddie joins in moments later, his laugh raspy and infectious. The movement dislodges Eddie’s softening cock, and Steve grimaces at the inevitable sensation of cum leaking out. It’s a mess, but he wouldn’t change a thing.

After a few beats of shared laughter and steadying breaths, Eddie peels off his own shirt, using it to clean them both.

“You’ll get cold,” Steve says, voice softer now, even as he leans into Eddie’s tender touches.

“I’ve got you to keep me warm, don’t I?” Eddie quips with a grin.

“Only if you cuddle me first,” Steve counters, mock-serious. “You can’t just use me for my body heat. I have standards, you know.”

“Sure you do, sweetheart,” Eddie replies with a chuckle, pulling Steve into his arms and leading them toward the worn couch in the corner of the room. They sink down together, Eddie sprawling on his back with Steve sprawled across him, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces.

They continue to lay there, tangled together in the lazy, sated warmth of post-coital bliss. Steve is already half-asleep, his head resting on Eddie’s chest, lulled by the steady rhythm of Eddie’s heartbeat and the gentle stroke of his fingers through Steve’s hair. Eddie presses a kiss to his temple, a smile tugging at his lips as he breaks the comfortable silence.

“So,” Eddie begins, his voice soft, curious, “you gonna tell me what had you in such a weird mood earlier?”

Steve hums, the sound vibrating through Eddie’s chest. He considers brushing it off, but Eddie’s been patient, and he deserves the truth. “Got an invitation from Dustin and the kids,” Steve says finally. “To their graduation. It’s for both of us, actually.”

Eddie stills, his hand pausing mid-stroke. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, his voice low. “Made me think about stuff, I guess. Like… leaving Hawkins. Leaving them.” He tilts his head to look up at Eddie, his expression thoughtful. “And whether I regret it.”

Eddie’s breath catches, his hand resuming its motion in Steve’s hair as he braces himself for Steve’s answer. “Do you?”

Steve doesn’t hesitate. “No. Not even for a second.” He shifts so he can meet Eddie’s eyes fully, a soft smile curving his lips. “If anything, I’m grateful Dustin kicked my ass into following you. The little shit was right—they’re fine without me. But I’m not sure I’d have been okay if I stayed.”

Steve sits up slightly, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Eddie’s chest, tracing tattoos and scars alike. “I’ve been thinking about how lucky I am. That I’m here. With you. That it all worked out the way it did.”

Eddie blinks, his throat working as he processes Steve’s words. “You’re not the only one who got lucky, Stevie,” he says, his voice tinged with raw honesty. “Leaving without you broke me. Felt like I’d left my heart in Hawkins while the rest of me moved to LA. The day you showed up? It was like the last puzzle piece finally slid into place. Like the universe had been holding its breath, waiting for us to figure it out.”

Steve’s smile widens, his hand cupping Eddie’s jaw as he leans up to press a tender kiss to his lips. “I love you,” he murmurs, the words soft but fierce, carrying every ounce of emotion he feels.

“I love you, too,” Eddie replies, his voice steady and sure, as if he’s been waiting his whole life to say it.

They settle back into each other’s arms, the greenroom quiet save for the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sounds of the venue being cleaned up. The world outside feels a million miles away, and for now, that’s exactly where it can stay.

Here, with Eddie, Steve is home.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 37

Part 1 Part 36

Between being poked and prodded by doctors, visitors trickle in. Hopper stops by, gruff as he claps Steve on the shoulder. Mrs. Byers pops in too; she hugs him gently, kissing his forehead with warm lips. Something inside of Steve burns.

His Mom doesn’t come. Neither does his Dad. Or Tommy and Carol. Steve wonders what it says about him that no one he knows comes by. From before. Before monsters and strangers made their homes in Steve’s life in equal measure

His life is thin. And everyone is holding it up to the fluorescent hospital lighting and looking right through it. Like his old Hawkins High basketball shirt from Freshman year, worn and washed enough to make the thread loose and thin everywhere but the seams – almost translucent. No one who knows him comes. 

But Eddie never leaves his side.

He’s still there three days into Steve’s hospital stay when Nancy Wheeler shuffles in, Barbara Holland flanking her like a bodyguard. 

Steve shuffles up in his bed, foisting himself up with the multiple pillows Eddie’d stacked behind him earlier. Barbara loiters in the door, light glinting off her glasses almost menacingly as she purses her lips and looks Steve up and down.

“Harrington,” she says, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. 

“Holland,” Steve says, voice still croaky. 

Eddie’s not saying anything, but he’s sitting up in his seat now, staring fixedly at Nancy as she does the same. Neither of them are blinking. He clutches the sheets tightly, wrong-footed.

“Glad you’re not dead,” Barbara says, ignoring whatever Eddie and Nancy have going on.

Steve nods, clearing his throat, looking down at his lap. He tries to run his fingers through his hair, and meets only stubbled skin. It’s just another nail in King Steve Harrington’s coffin. A week in that other place, and it’s hard to put him on, like a fancy suit. But now the suit’s for his own funeral, and he doesn’t know how to talk to anyone who isn’t Eddie or Will.

“I’m sorry about Tommy,” Steve says, blurts involuntarily in the silence. He hears Eddie shift, doesn’t look up from his lap to see how anyone else is reacting. “That wasn’t cool.”

He thinks of Tommy slinging the same curses at Barbara that his Dad slurs at the television screen when he’s three whiskeys deep. Thinks of Barbara’s nasty voice in the Upside-Down, hears her saying, maybe he’s off with his parents, like they’d ever take him anywhere.

Like they’d even realized he was missing. 

“You’re not responsible for Tommy Hagain,” Barbara says, “I don’t give a fuck about Tommy Hagan. I care that you’re friends with such a piece of shit.”

Nancy lets out a sharp, reprimanding, “Barb!” 

Barbara continues, ignoring her friend. “You don’t get a free pass because you tried to get eaten by a monster.”

Steve snorts, looking up at Barbara Holland, really looking at her for maybe the first time. Her jaws clenched, chin held high. She looks like she’s just as likely to deck him as help him with his homework. Tommy Hagain had shouted slurs at her back that could get her killed, lies or not, while Steve made excuses, and she’d still showed up in his hospital room before his best friend. 

Steve looks Barbara in the eyes and says the only thing he can, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

Barbara squints at him judgmentally before rolling her eyes and taking a seat by Eddie’s side. “Whatever, Harrington,” she says, eyeing him critically. “How are the injuries?”

“I’m fine,” Steve says, ignoring Eddie’s scoff. “I’ll be out of here soon–”

“–with required physical therapy–” Eddie interrupts. 

Steve plows on, “–and back to school in no time.”

“–after another week of bed rest.”

“Glad that’s all cleared up then,” Barbara says.

As if Eddie’s attention finally being away from her has made her bolder, Nancy shuffles her way closer, sitting on the foot of Steve’s bed. Everyone else goes quiet. Barbara’s eyebrows are raised as she looks over at her friend, and Eddie looks one second away from lunging out of his chair and ripping out her throat. Clearly, something had happened while he’d been away.

“Steve?” Nancy says, shoulders back, chin raised, as she finally meets Steve’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Steve blinks. “For what?” 

Nancy bites her lip, shifting her gaze to the empty side of the room. “For leaving you at the party,” she says.

“Nancy–”

“And for,” she says, looking down at her clasped hands before looking back up into his eyes. “You were gone, and Jonathan–”

She stops talking abruptly, looking at Steve beseechingly, like he should already know what she’s talking about. He looks over to Eddie, hoping for help, but Eddie’s too busy glaring at Nancy, so he looks over at Barbara, hoping she’ll put him out of his misery.

“Nancy and Jonathan have a thing going on,” she says, mouth pursed again, but this time, like she feels bad for him. It takes him a minute to figure out why.

“Nancy, it’s fine,” Steve says, trying to think of a tactful way to tell her he’d forgotten they were dating at all. “We kissed a few times, that’s all.”

He doesn’t know how to tell her that his life rearranged itself around Eddie Munson and Will Byers, can’t explain the pull – the way she sort of fell away on his list of priorities, without it sounding cruel.

“Really?” Nancy asks, at the same time that Eddie says, “are you serious?”

Steve nods. “Really,” he says, meeting Nancy’s eyes. They’re glittering, and he can almost remember that feeling from before. The euphoria of having Nancy WHeeler’s undivided attention. But then Eddie takes his hand, and it fades back again. “Friends?” He looks from Barbara to Nancy, offering the branch to both girls.

Barbara shrugs, but Nancy smiles, “Friends.”

They don’t stay much longer, both slinking off now that the air’s been cleared. Eddie stays by his side, like he always does.

“You’re really fine with her running off with Big Byers?” he asks. “Just like that?”

Steve rubs the back of his head, grimacing at the way the prickly hairs feel on his palm. “Does it make me an asshole if I forgot we were going out?”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, tangled hair trailing down his back, neck muscles straining. His eyes are twinkling as he answers, “I think just this once, you get a pass.”

It's not long until his next visitors of the day stop by. Luckily, they end up being far more enjoyable. Will comes into the room, standing in front of the door, hand clasped on the doorframe.

A body collides with his back, sending him stumbling forward as his fingers scrabble to keep their grip on the frame.

“Will,” a childish voice whines form behind him. “Let me in!”

Eddie’s laughing at his side as Will smiles sheepishly at them. “I brought the party,” he says, looking at his shoes and then up to Steve’s eyes repeatedly. “They wanted to meet you.”

Steve’s stomach flutters, a weird mix of anxiety and excitement coursing through him. “Uh, okay,” he says, sitting up straighter to try to look over Will’s shoulder and see whoever is trying to get past him into the room.

Will steps to the side, and nerdy kids pour in. The first a gap-toothed kid with curly hair. He smiles broadly at Steve, bouncing up to Steve’s bed. Next is a black kid with an awkward smile, shuffling his feet as he follows his friend over to Steve, rubbing the back of his head. Lastly, is Nancy’s brother. Steve recognizes the chubby cheeks and awkward haircut from the pictures lining the Wheeler’s staircase.

His arms are crossed, and he’s glaring at Steve, but he comes up to Steve by Will’s side.

“Children,” Eddie says, opening his arms magnanimously from his seated position, like he’s welcoming them to his grand castle. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

The curly-haired kid squints at him, “don’t you live in the trailer park?”

Eddie puts his hand to his heart, falling back into the chair like he’s been shot. “You wound me, Henderson,” he says, wobbling his bottom lip like he’s about to cry. “I live to serve my King.”

It’s a joke, he knows it’s a joke, but it curls strangely in Steve’s stomach. Like he’d eaten bad Chinese food but wanted to keep eating more. He decides not to think about it anymore.

“You wanna introduce us?” Steve asks, looking at Will.

Will looks up at him through his bangs, smiling softly. “Steve, this is Dustin,” he says, pointing at the hyper kid with the missing teeth, “Lucas,” gesturing at the awkward smile kid still loitering behind him, “and—”

“Wheeler,” Steve finishes. “You look a lot like your sister.”

Mike grimaces, glaring at Steve. “It’s Mike,” he says.

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. “Will talked about you all,” Steve says. Will smiles bashfully, and Mike’s frown lines lessen, clearly pleased. “Told me all about your adventures.”

Dustin sits familiarly on the edge of Steve’s bed, bouncing with excitement. “Will told us you played D & D with him!” he says, as if that was leagues more impressive than fighting real-life monsters, “and that you kicked Xanthar’s ass!”

Steve’s mind’s still a bit hazy with drugs, but he remembers Will whispering hints conspiratorially into his ear, practically leading him by the hand to his victory roll.

“Beginner’s luck,” Eddie says, reaching over to pat Steve’s thigh. “I’ll get you next time, Stevie.”

That gets Lucas into the mix. “Next time?” he asks, awkward smile turning genuine and excited. Even Mike can’t tamp down the glimmer of interest in his eyes as he leans closer to Eddie. Steve can’t blame him. Eddie’s got this magnetism about him – it either draws you in or repels you back out.

“You’ll play again?” Will asks, enthusiastic.

Eddie leans his elbow on Steve’s bed, and he knows by the sly glance sent his way that he’s in trouble. “I’m in if Steve here is.”

The force of four children sending wide-eyed pleading looks his way is enough to send him huffing back into his pillows. “This isn’t fair,” he says, glaring at Eddie, even as his heart blooms. Eddie just keeps smiling at him. “Fine!” He throws his hands in the air before crossing them in a huff. “But I lost my character sheet.”

Eddie brightens, reaching beneath Steve’s mattress, and pulling something out. It’s a crumpled piece of paper, torn at the edges, and stained. He smooths it out before handing it over to Steve.

Steve looks down at the character sheet Eddie had made for him, his character’s name and stats printed at the time, Steve’s own notes scrawled along the bottom as things had come up.

“I hid it when the scientists started stealing our shit for their tests,” he says, leaning back in his chair, obviously pleased. “I figured a paper originally from the Upside-Down would be right up their alley, so I snagged it for you.”

There’s a lump in Steve’s throat. He pushes past it, muttering a quiet, “thanks,” as he runs shaky fingers over the ragged paper.

As children bicker around him, begging to play right away, Steve looks down at the paper and thinks that Eddie Munson might just be a miracle.

Part 38

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Ring my bell, part 4

Part 3

steddie, omegaverse, flagging/signaling culture, mdni 🔞

Steve and Eddie spend the late fall and early winter meeting up as often as they can to fool around. Eddie’s got his club and his band and his dealing at high school parties, while Steve has his job and Robin and the special weekly Scoops Troop hang. They still find plenty of time for each other, Eddie sneaking into Steve’s bedroom on nights when the elder Harringtons are in town, Steve arriving at Forest Hills minutes after Wayne leaves for the late shift.

Most days Eddie is too impatient to wait for Steve to wash off his blockers, so he usually greets Steve with a kiss, then drops to his knees so he can scent him properly. Which quickly becomes him peeling Steve out of his jeans and putting his tongue to good use. He’s so pussy-drunk by the time he’s made Steve come that it only takes a few strokes to have him shooting off in Steve’s hand.

After, Steve will shower, toss Eddie a washcloth for his own mess, and they’ll spend whatever time they have left cuddled up close, talking about anything and everything.

Steve tells Eddie about the weird things customers say and the games he and Robin make up to pass the time. How much his dad keeps pushing for him to apply for a mailroom job at his firm, and how he would literally rather eat glass.

Eddie will talk through the puzzles and traps he has planned for the upcoming Hellfire session, trying them out on Steve to check the difficulty—Steve even helps him build a puzzle around basketball, telling him, “Lucas will get it, don’t worry about them getting stuck.” He’ll do his reading for English aloud so it sticks better in his head, Steve curled up against his chest, struggling to stay awake. Or, on nights he’s feeling particularly brave, Eddie will pull out his songwriting notebook, and show Steve the song he’s working on about him.

They’re spending New Year’s Eve alone at Steve’s house��his parents are in Paris for the holidays—all of their friends thankfully busy so they don’t need an excuse to blow them off.

“Wayne working tonight?” Steve asks as he opens the door on Eddie’s smiling face, his cheeks pink from the cold.

“Nah, he’s out drinking with his buddies. Told me not to wait up. Told him I was spending the evening elsewhere, and with how much of your scent is in my room… He’s figured out I’m seeing someone…” Eddie looks at him with worry in his big, dark eyes. “Is that okay?”

They had both decided to be quiet about all of it: the whole scentmates-hanging out-fooling around-thing until Eddie’s done with school. But Wayne is important to Eddie. The warmth in Steve’s chest is back at the thought of someone else knowing, at it being someone who cares about his alpha. Having someone who will support them without making it a big deal.

Steve doesn’t say all that, just murmurs, “Yeah, you can tell Wayne as much as you want.”

“Thanks, Puppy.” Eddie practically tackles him in a hug, purring as he realizes Steve is already blocker-free for the night, and tucks in tight to his neck. “You should stop wearing them,” he mumbles, not even kissing his neck, but licking it, tongue stroking his mating gland over and over.

“How about you let me close the door so we don’t heat the whole neighborhood.”

Eddie giggles, but complies, allowing Steve to close the door and lead him to the living room where Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve is already playing on the tv, volume turned down low. “I wanna be able to scent you all the time,” Eddie pleads, tossing his leather jacket on a chair and plopping onto the couch.

“Then everyone else could, too. Pretty hard to keep things low-key if everyone can tell I’m the source of all the new scents on you.” And it’s not like Steve is the one pushing for their quiet arrangement; Eddie wants it too.

“Just want people to know you’re taken,” Eddie says softly, whining as Steve straddles his lap and pulls him into a kiss. “Don’t have to know you’re mine yet, just… Taken.”

Steve remembers then, the alpha who had seen his necklace at work a few weeks back and asked him on a date. Eddie had been back in the Horror section, and he’d heard it all. He made Steve come on his tongue three times that night, and Steve had honestly forgotten all about it.

“I could say the same thing,” Steve says, just as soft. He takes Eddie’s left hand in his, taps over his rings, and comes up short. The pig head ring is gone. Eddie doesn’t have any more sniffing to do. In its place is a bird with a forked tail, wings and tail wrapped around Eddie’s middle finger. “Eddie?”

Eddie looks down, smiles to himself when he sees Steve has noticed the new ring. “It’s a swallow. They mate for life, and they migrate really far, but they always come home. I don’t plan on going far, but I promise I’ll always come home to you, Stevie.”

Lifting Eddie’s hand, Steve places a reverent kiss to his knuckles, then he pins him back against the couch and melds their mouths together in a greedy kiss.

It’s easy to stay there, making out, grinding down against Eddie’s rapidly hardening cock, so Steve does, lets his body do his talking for the moment. His scent blossoms and mixes with Eddie’s, making the living room smell like a proper den, and he wishes with all his heart that they could simply have this all the time.

But when Eddie leaves in the morning, Steve will have to spray air freshener to cover over their mixed scents. His parents can’t come home to the house smelling like an alpha they don’t know, and he isn’t ready to have anyone—even Robin—commenting on his scent at work.

Steve pulls back with tears in his eyes, ready to whisper apologies in Eddie’s ear, but his alpha is smiling up at him. “It’s okay, Puppy. I understand, I promise I do!” Awkwardly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, velvet box. “I thought this might help.”

Eddie opens the box and reveals a tiny key charm, claw clasp at the top so Steve can easily clip it on or take it off his necklace. So his parents won’t ask questions. But he can have it any other time. Robin will give him shit about it, but maybe he’s ready for Robin to give him shit about it.

“I love you,” Steve blurts, snapping the jewelry box closed so his gift doesn’t get lost, and taking Eddie by the sides of his face. “I love you.”

Eddie grins, and guides Steve’s face down to his, foreheads touching as they breathe one another in. “Love you, too.”

part 5

[funnylittlelad]

birdsong - steddie ficlet (-1.5k)

That time Steve got hearing aids.

Steve has been pissing people off for weeks and he knows it. He just doesn’t know what to do about it. It gets to the point where Dustin snaps at him for never paying attention to them. Steve starts to consider just leaving the country and starting new somewhere else. Somewhere it doesn't matter if he can hear who’s talking to him because he can't understand them anyways. He always thought Italy could be nice. Instead of running, he just shows up less. Both literally and metaphorically.

He starts bailing on more hangouts, figuring he won't be able to hear everyone so what's the point. When he is there he participates less in the conversation. He only engages when he’s really sure he can hear, which isn't a lot. It's mostly one-on-one or one-on-two. He doesn't think anyone notices, but they do. Eddie most of all feels Steve’s absence even when he’s sitting right next to him. He’s noticed the anxious tension in him when they're in groups. He just isn't sure what to do. So, he sits with a Steve-sized ache in his chest. There’s a day when the ache becomes too much, though, and Eddie breaks.

Steve sits in his living room with everyone strewn about. Eddie is next to him like he usually is unless Robin was already at Steve’s first. The kids lay and sit on the rug around the coffee table. Robin is on the other side of Eddie. Nancy sits with her legs tucked under her in a big armchair. The sound of conversation and life flows around him like a pebble in a stream. His edges have been smoothed so the water can move effortlessly, never catching on his surface. He can feel that there are words in the air around him, but there are too many other things around those words. Too much background noise and laughter. He can’t dig through it all in time to figure out what anyone is saying. So, he just stays silent like he has been. 

“He’s not listening again,” Dustin says frustratedly. 

Eddie frowns and looks at Steve. The movement catches Steve’s attention. He turns to look at Eddie with a small smile. Then he notices that it's more than just Eddie’s eyes on him. His blood runs cold and his throat dries.

“What?” He asks cautiously, eyes flitting to everyone else before landing on Eddie.

“Be honest, can you hear us?” Eddie answers Steve’s question with his own.

“I-”

“Be honest,” Eddie warns.

“No,” Steve sighs, “most of the time I can't really. I mean, I can hear you, but I can't tell what you're saying. It all garbles together like I’m underwater or something.”

“I think it's time to go to the doctor, Stevie,” Eddie says softly.

Steve frowns, but nods. There's a nervous twist in his stomach at the thought. He agrees to make an appointment the following day. Eddie hangs behind after everyone else leaves for a little bit. He does this sometimes and Steve’s never complained. Steve’s never thought about complaining. There's no surprise when Eddie gently grabs his hand either. He does that sometimes too. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” Eddie asks. 

The question nearly makes Steve cry. He wants to cry so bad. He wants to cry because he misses being able to hear his friends. He wants to cry because he’s scared of what's going to happen to what's left of his hearing. He wants to cry because Eddie is standing here offering to go to his doctor’s appointment with him like he’s a child. Mostly, he wants to cry because he’s so fucking happy Eddie offered and he doesn't have to ask. Steve nods.

“Yeah, if you don't mind,” he answers with a slight waver in his voice. 

Eddie smiles all sticky and sweet at him. Steve silently wonders what he did to be worthy of a smile like that. 

“‘Course I don't mind. Just tell me when and where and I’m there,” Eddie promises.

And he was. Eddie drives Steve to the ENT on the morning of his appointment the next week. He sat in the waiting room until Steve was done, but the knowledge he was there was enough. It was the same thing when Steve was sent to the Audiologist two weeks later. Eddie sat in the waiting room patiently while Steve sat in a booth answering all sorts of questions and prompts. It doesn't really sink in until he sees Eddie stand from his chair. The knit of his brow tells Steve his face says it all.

“What’s the verdict?” Eddie asks. 

“They’ll let me know when to come in and be fitted for my hearing aids,” he sighs with a frown.

“That’s good!” Eddie smiles as they walk out of the office. 

“Good? Eds, I’m going to have hearing aids,” Steve scoffs.

“Yeah, which means you’ll, y’know, be able to hear,” Eddie points out. 

“Well, yeah, but-”

“Nope, no buts except yours in my van,” Eddie interrupts him and points to the passenger side as they approach the van.

Steve rolls his eyes with a small smile as he climbs in. 

“I just don’t feel like it's that bad,” he admits quietly as the van choked to a start.

“How bad did they say it was?” 

Steve remains silent for a beat as Eddie pulls out. He sighs and glances out the window at the building as they leave.

“I'm working with sixty percent of my hearing in one ear and seventy in the other,” he tells Eddie.

“Stevie,” Eddie breathes with a shake of his head, “If the doctors say these things will help you then they’re worth a shot. M’tired of you bailing out on things- yeah, I noticed.”

Steve’s face flushes at being caught like that. He exhales slowly and nods. 

“Okay,” he agrees, “I’ll give them a shot.”

A couple weeks later he’s called into the office for his hearing aids. Eddie is so quick to drop what he’s doing to go with him it nearly gives Steve whiplash. The sight of Eddie’s van pulling up gives a strange swooping sensation that he's grown used to around Eddie. The appointment itself takes around an hour. Then Steve is walking out fashioned with two white hearing aids hooked over his ears. His eyes are wide as they bounce to the television and then the clacking behind the desk. Eddie beams at him and stands. Steve looks beautiful so stunned. Hell, Eddie can admit that Steve just looks beautiful. 

“C’mon, Stevie, let’s go give’em a spin,” he says with a wolfish grin.

Steve laughs and nods. They don't get far, though. Once they step foot outside Steve comes to a halt. He makes a noise that's a cross between choking and a sob. Eddie’s hands fly to examine him for injury, but there is none. Steve’s lip wobbles, his face is blotchy and red, and his warm toffee eyes are trained on the tree a few feet away. Eddie’s mouth opens to ask, but then Steve’s eyes are on him like that. His eyes overflow with more emotion than Eddie knew a human could hold. 

“The birds,” Steve croaks. 

“What about’em?” Eddie’s brows furrow.

He glances accusingly at the little chirping finches in the tree. Steve chuckles wetly at the sight.

“I- I can hear them. It’s been so long- I didn't even realize,” Steve shakes his head, “I don’t know the last time I’ve actually heard the birds.”

Steve’s wonder-filled gaze turns back to the birds in question. He laughs again, heartier this time at the notion. He can hear birds. 

“Shit,” Eddie whispers to himself, “I’m so in love with you.”

At least he thought it was to himself. An hour ago it would have been to himself. Steve’s face whips around with huge eyes. His lips part slightly as he watches Eddie stunned. Eddie freezes, absolutely terrified. He’s so sure he just fucked it all up. 

“I can hear you too,” Steve whispers.

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat.

“Nah, pretty sure that was a bird too,” he attempts to joke it off. 

“I really hope not,” Steve frowns.

Eddie blinks hopefully.

“Really? Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you too.”

Safe to say, Steve is very happy he got hearing aids. 

Masterlist - beta read by @steveslilshorts

[justmeinadaze]

Children of the Night (Steddie X You)

"Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!"- Dracula

A/N: "I present to you...this fucking thing." Lol always the TikTok that comes into my head when I try something new. I had started doing like a camboy Steddie thing but I struggled a lot with it and the feelings I wanted to convey. While listening to a song, this idea popped into my head so... I hope you enjoy it!

For the first half, everyone is referred to by their screen names.

Eddie is Dracula.

Steve is Renfield

Reader is Mina

I also set it in 2005 when things like streaming were relatively new and cameras weren't 100% clear.

Warnings: Camboys Steddie (Vampire Eddie and Human Steve) X Human Fem Reader, SMUT of the Steddie variety, Daddy kink (because im me lol), choking, biting. ANGST, blood is mentioned mostly from Eddie feeding, the reader has an abusive boyfriend so Domestic Violence Trigger, Eddie defends her and both boys take care of her. I think that's it.

Word Count: 4046

InnocentLittleMina: Hey sexy boys.

You grinned at your computer screen when you saw the long-haired boy smirk under his mane of hair.

“Hey, honey. How are you tonight?”, the other man smiled lovingly into the camera.

InnocentLittleMina: I’m alright. Can’t complain. What about you?

“I’m ok. As you can see Dracula is a little grumpy.”, he teases. 

“I’m hungry.”, he growls making you giggle. 

When you first saw these boys known only as Dracula and Renfield, you were drawn to them immediately. There was something about them that was not only attractive but confident as hell and it drove you wild. People around town talked about them constantly which was interesting since Los Angeles was a huge city. In 2005, there weren’t many people streaming, let alone broadcasting the content they were. 

 Everyone including police tried to track them down but never could. Their website itself was fairly generic but that’s not what their fans cared about. What they cared about was the content these two provided. 

The man known as Dracula would feed of off the other man known as Renfield and nine times out of ten it led to something sexual. The first time you heard Renfield moan, your pussy clenched around nothing. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Not many of their fans stayed after they finished but you always did, loving the way Dracula took care of Renfield after. They seemed to genuinely care about each other and that was something you appreciated. 

When you created your account you hoped it would get their attention and as luck would have it, it did especially since a lot of the female fans that watched them named their accounts after the character Lucy always believing that was the girl Dracula fell for. 

After a few months of back and forth, you actually came to know them as friends. Dracula didn’t talk as much as his friend but he did chime in where necessary and played his guitar for you once or twice making you swoon. Renfield always asked about your day and told you things about their time away from the computer but you couldn’t help but feel like they were holding information back. 

You asked them constantly why they decided on this particular vampire style content and theme and every time they changed the subject. You asked once how they faked the blood that stained Renfield’s chest when they were done and they pretended like they didn’t hear you. You asked them for their real names and each time they said their screen ones making you sigh. 

To make up for being obtuse and hoping to distract you, Renfield offered you a job as their moderator and paid you fabulously for your time. Since they trusted you enough with their business, you met their kindness with one of your own by turning on your webcam and showing them your face. 

Dracula’s eyes had turned towards you, grinning at your beauty. 

“Pretty girl.”

“Very.”, Renfield agreed. 

It had been a few months since then and you were extremely fond of them both. 

InnocentLittleMina: Ok, well, you have your stream in a few minutes so… don’t get too hungry! You need and love him.

“I do.”, Dracula smiles.

“We’ll talk to you after, honey.”, Renfield winks and you watch as they get into their places on the bed behind them. 

***

A little sigh left your lips as both men removed their shirts. Dracula’s tattoos on his chest always had you entranced. You noticed the first time you watched them that they both had scars along their stomachs up to their necks but that was a question you knew better than to ask. Trauma like that was none of your business unless they chose to tell you. 

The stream began and you kept your eyes peeled as fans began pouring in. They never said a greeting nor even said hello. You figured part of it was because by this point Dracula’s eyes were black like a shark on the hunt and those contacts had to be killing him. 

Straddling Renfield’s waist, Dracula tenderly kissed the man’s neck before gripping his fluffy hair in his hand and tugging him back as he bit into his skin. Renfield’s palms promptly came around to cling to Dracula’s head as his eye’s rolled and he fell backwards onto the mattress. 

A heavy exhale escaped you at the sight, licking your tongue across your lips as his hips began grinding up against his own. 

“Fuck. That’s it, baby. Take what you need.”, Renfield moaned. 

Something happened. Dracula’s head abruptly shot up looking vacantly in the distance. 

“What? What’s wrong? Wh-What do you feel, honey?” He cooed underneath him as he ran his fingers across his cheek and moved some of his messy hair back. 

“Mina.”, he growled. 

That got your attention as you sat up straighter. They both swiveled their heads towards the computer before you heard heavy footsteps and immediately yanked the cord from the wall just as the door opened. 

“John! Hey. I-I didn’t think you’d be coming over tonight.”

“You say that like you’re not excited to see your boyfriend.”

“Pfft. No, baby, I am. You just scared me is all. H-How was your day?”

His stern blue eyes flicked towards your little pink razor phone by your end table as it continued to vibrate. The boys knew your number. You gave it to them when they hired you. 

Please don’t let him walk over there to see. 

“Are you going to get that?”

“No, baby. I want to talk to you. Tell me about your day. I missed you—”

“Answer. The phone. Y/N.”

You sighed, pretending to be annoyed he was making you answer a random call as you flipped it open. 

“Hello?”

“Mina?! Are you alright?!”

“I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong number.”

You can hear them arguing in the background, vaguely picking up tidbits as your boyfriend steps closer to you. 

“I can feel her. I know where she is! Something bad is about to happen to her!”

“NO! You can’t reveal yourself and bring her into our mess! She deserves to have a better life!”

“She won’t have a fucking life, Steve, if this fucker kills her!”

“I always knew I’d catch you cheating on me sooner or later. Give me the phone.”

“John, I’m not… I would never…”

“Give it to me NOW.”, he snarls. You do as he says and as soon as your device touches his palm, his free one flies across your face smacking you so hard you fall on to the mattress. “Whoever this is, what you have with my girl is over.”

The growl that came through your phone’s speaker scared even you as you heard it loud and clear from where you were. 

“You’re going to regret touching her. If I were you, little man, I would leave now.”

With that there was silence and John threw the phone across the wall hoping to smash it into pieces. You two began fighting each other but he was much stronger than you, getting a good hit to your eye making you dizzy.

The banging of the door caving in is loud and your eyes are half open when you see a blur fly into your room, tackling your boyfriend to the ground. You hear his screams but they sound so far away. After a few minutes, everything is silent again and your arms fly out defensively when a hand touches your side. 

“No! No please!”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Mina. I never would. Just hold on to me, ok?” You feel your body being lifted and you press your cheek against cold, bare skin. “Clasp your hands around my neck, sweetheart.”

After barely registering his command, you feel a sudden rush of wind and after a minute you find yourself being placed on a bed that isn’t yours. 

“Have you lost your fucking mind!? Killing someone and then bringing her here!?”

“How do you know I killed him?”

“Because I fucking know you!”

“Can you stop berating me and help her, please!?”

A much warmer hand tenderly moves your hair back as something wet is dragged across your face making you jump.

“Hey, hey now. Everything’s ok. I just need to clean your cuts here. Can you go get me some ice, please?” Wind lightly blows your hair back twice before you hear the pack slam into his hand. “Thank you. What, um, what was happening when you got there?”

“He was hitting her. I’ve felt his anger before but this was different.”

“So you did go hunting for her even though I told you a thousand times not to.”

“No.”, he snarled, voice deep with annoyance. “I can just…feel her. I don’t get it either ok?!”

“Oh wow.” The wet rag was replaced with the cool of the ice pack as the man’s voice beside you got louder. “You like her.”

“And you don’t? She’s beautiful, kind, funny—”

“Innocent.”

“Fuck. Off. Little boy. Or I swear to God—”

“You swear to God what? Finish that sentence, Dracula. I dare you.” The man scoffed as he focused his attention back on you. “Go clean up your fucking mess while I take care of her.”

There’s a whoosh of air and everything in the room stills. 

################

You woke up the next morning in utter confusion. You vaguely remembered your boyfriend being angry and attacking you but then…someone saved you. Turning to your side, you noticed you were at home in your room tucked safely under the covers. 

Carefully standing, you glance around the room to find nothing out of place except for your phone by your bed that was broken in half.

Loud knocking on the door, startled you before you power walked to see who it was before answering. Sighing, your best friend doesn’t even wait for you to fully open the door before she barges in.  

“Ma’am! I have been calling you all morning and your phone goes straight to voicemail! What’s going—“ She freezes when she sees your face. “Y/N! Oh my god! What happened?!”

“Nothing, Lilly. I’m fine. I just—”

“Fell? You always say that. Where is that fucker? Is he here? I’m going to kill him.”

Lilly stomps towards your bedroom and you quickly run after her but you’re not one percent sure why. Him being attacked was a dream you had, right?

“Hm. Well, next time I see him he’s dead. Jesus, looks like he destroyed your phone. Come on. Let’s go the store so we can get you a new one. Maybe one of those sleek shiny new ones with the screen you touch.”

“But I like my razor phone. It’s shiny enough.”, you smile as you change to go out into the world. 

***

As you amble around the phone store, you friend continues to babble about mundane things that you barely hear. What does catch your attention is a group of girls talking in the corner. Pretending to look at the devices in front of you, you slide closer to them as you listen in.

“Did you see their stream last night?”

“It started getting good but then Dracula disappeared to ‘save Mina’. Like are they kidding?”

“I hope they aren’t mixing plot with their sex-ca-pades.”

“Now if they want to add a Mina I think that’d be hot but don’t just cut a stream short like that!”

“Y/N! Did you find what you want?”, your friend practically shouts making you and everyone around jump. 

“Yes! Good God, Lilly. Lower your voice.”

“Aw. I love you to.”

***

Staring at your blank computer screen, you debated on even signing on. All the clues were telling you what happened last night was real but that can’t be, right? You had called John multiple times to no avail and even went to his house with no answer. Checking the message boards of their fan group, others were saying what the other group had said about them cutting mid-stream and Dracula abruptly vanishing. 

What happened?

“Hey, honey—Oh my god, Mina what happened?!”, Renfield asked as soon as you signed in. Dracula was sitting beside him, his arms folded as he starred off to the side. Turning on your mic, you decided you needed to know the truth. 

“I was going to ask you that.”

“Us? Why? The last time we saw you was before our stream.”

“Really? I could swear I heard Dracula’s voice in my house and then you two fighting while I was passed out.”

“Huh. A dream maybe? I mean, we’re pretty far from you.”

“Oh yeah? Where?”

Your stern tone had Dracula turning to face the screen as Renfield sighed. 

“Far, Mina.”

“How would you know? I don’t even know your names let alone where you live.” You glare at your computer, feeling a confidence you had never felt before. “Did you kill John? Or hurt him?”

“Who cares what happened to that asshole? You deserve better.”, Dracula answers in a deep tone of his own that made you a little bit nervous but you ignored it as you pushed forward. 

“Again, how would you know? You never met him.”

“Don’t need to see him to see the damage he inflicts on you every time he comes over. Why do you put up with it, sweetheart? Because you think you deserve to be treated like trash?”

“How did you get here so fast? People are saying you disappeared after saying my name.”

“This was a mistake.”, Renfield whispers to the boy beside him.

“I’m not afraid of you…either of you. I just…I just want answers.”

Dracula’s eyes darken as he turns to Renfield. 

“No. No! Don’t you fucking—” 

Before he had finished his sentence, the long-haired boy was gone and you heard your front door open as a breeze hit your face. 

“You may not be afraid of us now, little one, but you will be.”

With that, he lifted you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and in the blink of an eye you were back in a room you vaguely remembered. 

##############

“Why am I even here? You never fucking listen to me!”, Renfield whined.

“Sit.”, Dracula commanded you as he pointed towards a chair. “Not a sound. Do you hear me?”

You nod completely frozen in fear at the speed of which he even brought you back to their house. 

“You to. Sit.”

“Fuck you. Are you kidding me right now? After everything we’ve done to avoid getting caught—”

The man choked on his words as a strong hand wrapped around his throat and walked him backwards towards the end of the bed.

“I’m not in the fucking mood to have this argument right now, Steven.”, Dracula growled angrily. “I didn’t get to finish eating last night and I’m starving.”

“You…you didn’t…eat her boyfriend. I’m…shocked.”

Your eyes widened at his audacity to talk back even in the position he was currently in. Plus, he always seemed so gentle so hearing him talk this way startled and excited you. 

Dracula’s eyes fluttered closed as he dropped Renfield who promptly gasped for air.

“Jesus Steve, if you could fucking smell what I smell you’d do anything for her to. You think she’s scared but she’s not. She’s turned on.”, he whispers as you watch him adjust himself in his jeans.

“Steve?” They both turn to look at you as you suddenly speak. “Renfield is Steve. W-Who are you, Dracula?”

The man can feel your heart beat slow as you find a sense of grounding in your current chaos. He wasn’t lying when he said he could feel you weren’t afraid but you were extremely confused, trying to make sense of a reality that they both had long accepted. 

“Eddie. My real name is Eddie.”

Your hand shakes as you point to your chest. “My name is Y/N.”

Something in their room beeps as they give each other their attention once again. 

“You’re insane if you think we’re streaming right now.”

Eddie points his finger at you once more as his voice deeply rumbles. 

“No noise. Not even a squeak.”

They get into a position you’ve seen numerous times but this time the energy is different. The man you now know as Steve clenches his jaw as he tilts his head to expose his neck. 

A ring laced hand reaches out to cup his cheek and turns his face towards his own as he leans his forehead on his. 

“Please don’t be this way. I need you.”, Eddie whispers. 

“Yeah. For this right? Because you sure as hell don’t listen or care about my opinion.”

As they murmur to each other, you imagine it’s too low for the mic to pick up but you can hear it and the pain in both their voice breaks your heart. The metalhead’s dark eyes flick towards the web cam before settling back on the man beside him. 

“I do, sweetheart. I care about you and what you have to say. It’s because of you I’m still here…I’m safe.”

Steve’s eyes flutter slightly as his admission as he blinks back tears. 

“I love you.”, he whispers as he kisses his forehead. 

“I love you to, baby. Come here. Let me take care of you to.”

Eddie tenderly pushed Steve back against the mattress, pulling down his sweats and boxers, and tossing them to the floor. When his cock sprang free, Eddie wasted no time, licking and kissing his tip before enveloping him fully into his mouth. 

“Fuck.”, Steve whimpered as he reached down to tangle his fingers in the boy’s messy hair. 

Lifting his head, he spit on the man’s dick and twisted his wrist as his palm smeared his saliva along his length. 

“Such a good boy for me always, aren’t you, baby?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“Sometimes I can be a bad boy and not think.” While pumping his hand faster, Eddie leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “But Steve, you were right. I like her so fucking much. You can’t tell me you don’t want to make her moan. Taste that sweet pussy I smell practically dripping from here.”

Steve’s eyes turned to meet yours as he continued to speak. 

“Feel a beautiful woman’s tight cunt choke your dick again.”, Eddie tightened his fist as if to prove his point as he quickened his pace. “To have a girl in our lives again who isn’t afraid of us and makes us feel complete.”

Steve craned his neck back towards Eddie as he passionately kissed his lips. 

“Take what you need, honey, please.”

Unbuckling his belt, he pushed his jeans down enough to free his cock, and both men mewl as Eddie guides himself into his entrance. You couldn’t help when your hand slid between your shorts and you rubbed your clit. Their moans, Eddie’s passion as he thrust into him, and Steve’s tenderness when he clung to his back drove you wild. 

“Can—shit—can you hear it, baby? The sound her fingers between her legs.” Steve nodded as he waited for Eddie to truly take him. “Fuck, you feel so good. Are you ready?”

“Y-Yes, sir. I’m ready.”

From your angle you couldn’t see much of what happened next. Eddie’s head tilted slightly and Steve’s entire body arched as he held the man closer to him. The metalhead’s pace quickened as he slammed his hips into his partners.

“J-Just like that, Daddy, fuck.”

Eddie grunted as one of his hands came up to cup the boy’s cheek as if to hold him still as he sucked on his neck. Steve shuddered as his eye’s rolled and he came. Eddie’s own rhythm faltered just enough as his grip tightened on his boyfriend’s hair and released his seed inside of him. 

Steve became limp as the man above him continued to roll his hips till he had given him everything he had and came off his neck with a loud syrupy smack. Your own body trembled as you came, covering your mouth as to not give yourself away. 

Eddie crawled down the man’s frame as he headed for the opposite corner of their room to the mini fridge where he grabbed two water bottles and a power bar. Normally, they left the cameras on to show the aftercare but this time, he sauntered towards his computer and promptly ended the stream. 

After handing a bottle to you without looking your way, he immediately focused on Steve. 

“Sit up, sweetheart. There we go. Here eat this for me ok?”, he coos as he hands him his snack before leaning under the bed and producing a first aid kit. You watched with studious eyes as Eddie grabbed a rag and cleaned the blood from his neck while Steve daintily nibbled on the bar in his hands. “Good boy. Drink some water.” His fingers tenderly pushed back some of the boy’s hair as he kissed his shoulder. 

“S-S-So, this is real. You’re really a vampire?”

He heavily sighs as he looks your way. “I am.”

“And what is Steve?”

“My boyfriend. He…he takes care of me.”

“How? What? I…I have so many questions.”

“Tomorrow, little one. He won’t be back to 100% for another few hours and even then he’s had a long couple of days. Here. Let me take you home.”

“NO! I mean…please. May I stay?”

“Um, yeah sure. I don’t see why not. Let me see if we have any clean spare sheets for that guest bedroom we have.”

Once he leaves, you sit by Steve’s side and glance over the wound on his neck. 

“He should really cover these up since they’re kind of deep.”

“Pfft. They’ll be gone by tomorrow. Eddie uses vampire voodoo whatever he can to make sure he doesn’t leave a scar. As you noticed, honey, we have enough.”, he giggles. “He’s right you know. You are very beautiful. I’ve always thought so.” You softly smile as his palm lazily comes up to trace your now black eye from yesterday. 

“Fucking asshole. He’s lucky I can’t run in the blink of an eye.”

“Steve, sweetie, why don’t you lay back?”, you grin as he limply nods and scoots his head up towards the pillows. 

“Y/N. I have to keep saying it so I don’t forget. Y/N.”

As his eyes close, you lay on your side beside him and run your fingers along his cheek till your palm rests on his chest. 

“He’s fine.”, Eddie announces from the doorway where he had been observing you two talk. “I never take enough that would kill him or turn him. That first night though I did the same thing.”, sighs as he gestures towards your hand. 

“Is it ok if I stay with him?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll just hang out in this room here—”

“You can lay here if you want. I don’t mind.” He scans you over making you slightly self-conscious. “I mean…unless…you have a coffin you sleep in or…”

Eddie laughs as he comes to the opposite side of the bed and lays on his back.

“No coffins, princess. I sleep here with him.”

“I’ve never heard you laugh before or even seen you really smile. It looks good on you.”

He smiles as he turns on his side and brushes some of your hair away from your face. 

“Y/N.”

“Eddie. I like your names better than your screen ones. Plus both Dracula and Renfield’s stories end tragically.”

“Maybe Eddie and Steve’s stories did end tragically…”, he muses. “Or it was the only book he and I actually read in school.”

You giggle as he grins your way before he’s taken aback when you roll over and pull his arm over your waist. Most people feared him especially back in their hometown. It had been so long since anyone besides Steve touched him without hesitation and he didn’t realize how much he missed the contact. 

Even though he soothed your worries, your hand still rested against Steve’s chest making sure it was still rising and falling at a normal pace. There was a lot you didn’t know about them but you were dying to find out.

[hbyrde36]

Steddie | R: Explicit (for eventual smut) | WC:4541 | Ch 1/8 | AO3

Chapter 1: Ghost of Yesterday

Two days after they failed to defeat Vecna, after Max died and came back, after Eddie died—and didn’t. Two days after they were forced to leave his body behind in the Upside Down because everything had gone to shit, a bright yellow pizza delivery van that looked like it’d been through its own apocalypse pulled into the Wheeler's driveway.

Jonathan, Mike, Will, and El finally made it home to Hawkins with the help of a friend.

On day three, Max woke up. 

She’d have a long road to recovery, but the doctors seemed fairly confident she’d walk again. Though, no one could be sure how much of her eyesight would return, if any. The same day, in a twist no one saw coming, Joyce showed up, fresh off a plane from Alaska after escaping Russia—yes, Russia—with a miraculously alive and mostly well Jim Hopper. 

And four days after the world both did and then didn’t end, the ghost of Eddie Munson appeared in Steve’s living room.

The kids and older teens, including the newest member of the doomsday squad, Argyle, were having an off-the-books meeting. After everything they’d done and been through, the so-called ‘adults’ were attempting to pull their same old shit, trying to sideline the younger set for their own, supposed, safety. 

Steve sort-of agreed about Dustin and the others, they were still too young and had already lost so much, but if Hopper, Joyce, and whoever the hell else thought they were going to bench him? They had another think coming, and he was pretty sure Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan felt the same way too.

But, whether he agreed or not, what he wouldn’t do was stop the kids from helping to come up with a plan. Because damned if he knew what the hell they should do next. 

Dustin leaned forward from his spot on the couch wedged between Erica and Will, steepling his fingers together in front of him. “So let me test my understanding. You set him on fire, and shot him—multiple times. He fell out of a third story window, and he just went… poof? Vanished without a trace?”

There was a collective groan from the room, everyone except for Lucas and El who were at the hospital sitting with Max, and of course Dustin himself. 

Robin rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, yes, Dustin. How many times do we have to go over this?”

 “I’m just laying out the facts!” Dustin snapped back. “Clearly we got something wrong here. We underestimated Vecna, and by a lot.”

 “And how is repeating our obvious failure helpful?” Nancy asked, a little defensively. 

Steve understood the attitude, he'd also been wresting with his guilt since that fateful night.

“The scientific method!” Dustin answered with a bit of the same slightly forced cheerfulness he'd been displaying ever since Max woke up. He held up a hand, ticking each step off on his fingers as he spoke. “Question, research, hypothesis, experiment, data analysis, conclusion.” 

“I got a question—“ Erica pursed her lips, giving Dustin such intense side-eye Steve wondered if it was actually painful. “Why are you such a nerd?”

Dustin sighed, as though it were everyone else annoying him instead of the other way around. “The question is—if Vecna is just a guy with powers like El, how could he have survived this long in the Upside Down? What’s keeping him alive?”

Okay, fine. Attitude or not, Steve hadn’t really thought about it but maybe the kid had a point. 

“The hive mind!” Robin offered up.

“Possibly.” Dustin nodded to her. ”Probably. So, what does that tell us?”

Erica crossed her arms, leaning back heavily into the couch. “I don’t know Mr. Clarke, you wanna share your thoughts with the class?”

“I didn’t say I had all the answers.”

“That’s a first,” Robin mumbled. 

“I’m just trying to get us brainstorming here!”

A flutter of movement pulled Steve’s admittedly already drifting attention away from discussion at hand. Something in the corner, the air there shifting and bending strangely, a little like the way heat shimmers off a sun drenched black top. He watched through his periphery, not daring to actually turn his head to look as a familiar figure materialized there. 

Fuck.

Though he looked confused and disoriented at first, it wasn’t long before the long-haired apparition tried approaching one of them.

Steve swallowed hard, his throat growing painfully tight. He fought to keep his face neutral as the ghost raised a hand in front of Dustin's face, calling the boy's name loudly before moving on to Erica, then Nancy—and Steve panicked, knowing he had to do something before the figure tried the same with him. 

“Water,” he muttered, mainly to Robin as he rose and bumped her shoulder. She was the only one really paying attention to him anyway, while the others still argued the physics and limitations of the alternate dimension. 

Steve fled for the relative quiet and safety of his kitchen. He just needed a minute alone to get his shit together, but he should have expected the phantom footfalls that followed him across the tile floor to the cabinet. 

As he took out a tall glass with shaking hands, the ghost hopped up to sit on the counter just beside him and started talking to himself.

“What the hell does a guy gotta do to get a little attention, huh?” The figure held up his slightly transparent hands in front of his own face, turning them over and back again. “I-I’m kinda freaking out here.”

Under the show of irritation he sounded sad, and a little terrified.

“They can’t see you,” Steve muttered softly, regretting it the second the words passed his lips. 

He knew better than to engage with ghosts. 

Since the moment he’d first shown signs of the gift, he’d been taught by his late grandfather to leave the spirit world be, and mind his own goddamn business.

He’d only broken the rules one other time, about a month or so after they learned the full truth of what happened to Barb and he’d seen her essence lurking around his pool at night. That experience had only served to further prove the old man’s point. 

Nothing good ever came from acknowledging the dead. 

But this was Eddie. 

They’d fought together, bled together. Eddie was his–his ally, his compatriot, his friend. 

And towards the end there Steve was even starting to think that maybe… maybe one day they could be more, if he ever got up the courage to flirt back.

Not that it mattered now.

“No shit, Harrington!” Eddie spat. “I’ve been waving my hands in front of their faces, screaming Dustin's name at the top of my lungs and getting jack squat back in return. I mean what the fu—”

With a sad little smile Steve turned, finally looking straight at the other boy just in time to see his eyes go impossibly wide. 

“Wait—holy shit! Harrington, does this mean you can see me?!”

Steve winced, grimacing at the sheer volume of Eddie's voice. “And hear you, unfortunately.”

Who knew the loudest guy he’d ever met would be even louder in death. 

Actually, that tracked. 

“Steve?” Robin’s voice filtered in as she called out to him from the other room.

Steve took a deep breath, locking eyes with the adorably confused looking ghost haunting his kitchen as he shouted back to her. “Yeah?” He raised a hand to his head, rubbing at the bridge of his nose just as Robin appeared in the doorway. 

“What are you up to in here?” She asked.

“Oh, just…” Steve trailed off, trying and failing not to track Eddie’s movements as he hopped down off the counter and began to stalk towards Robin, a determined, mischievous glint in his eye. 

“ …talking to myself.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

“Are you okay she asks,” Eddie grumbled, tipping his head mockingly from side to side. “Pfft—I’m the one who’s invisible. Why isn’t anyone asking if I’m okay?”

“Um,” Steve fought to keep a level expression and not laugh, even as Eddie blew wet raspberries and made increasingly silly faces inches from an oblivious Robin’s nose. “No, actually. I think I might have a migraine coming on,” he lied.

“You want me to get everyone to leave?” She asked.

Yes, good plan! 

In fairness he wasn’t exactly feeling his best. He was exhausted. It had been a long few days.

A long… week and a half? 

Years. 

It had been a long few years.

And he needed some time alone with Eddie, to talk.

“That'd be great, yeah. Thanks, Rob.”

“Sure thing. Why don't you go get in bed with your eye mask on, and I'll bring water and painkillers up?”

“Oooh,” Eddie crooned. “His majesty sleeps with an eye mask? Fancy.”

Ugh, why were all of Steve’s favorite people such fucking smartasses? He glared at Eddie before he could stop himself. Which meant he was staring daggers at a blank wall right now, right in front of Robin, leaving her looking more concerned than ever. 

Shit. 

He should have known she’d wanna stay behind and take care of him. 

“I—um, t-that’s okay,” Steve stuttered out. “M-maybe you should just go on home too.”

Her face fell.

Hacking and wheezing, he forced a fake coughing fit in her direction, only barely covering his mouth with his hand.

“Very convincing,” Eddie commented with clear sarcasm.

Robin wrinkled her nose, recoiling like the germaphobe Steve knew and loved.

“Sorry, I think I'm coming down with a cold or something actually. You should get out while you still can.”

Robin bit at her lip, looking mildly dubious, but eventually she nodded. “Fine. Just promise you’ll call me if it gets any worse, or if you need anything?”

“I promise.”

While everyone cleared out, Steve hid in the kitchen, finally getting that drink of water he so desperately needed—his throat was on fire now that he thought about it—and splashed some more cold water from the sink on his face for good measure.

“You sure you’re not actually coming down with something?” Eddie asked, sitting back up on his perch on the counter. “You don’t look so hot.”

“I’m fine,” Steve said with practiced ease, though his head was beginning to throb a bit. Maybe that migraine thing wasn’t as much of a lie as he’d thought.

With the house now safely empty of prying eyes and ears, he ventured back out into the living room, with Eddie hovering along behind, and locked the deadbolt on the front door before plopping down hard on the couch, letting his head rest against the back of it.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Eddie asked, pacing back and forth along the floor in front of him.

Steve let his head loll to one side. “Plan?”

Eddie groaned, stopping in his tracks to throw his head up to the ceiling. “Why couldn’t it be Henderson who can see me.”

Okay, rude.

“A plan, y'know?” Eddie went on. “To get me back? To get me out of the Upside Down or whatever purgatory I'm currently languishing in?”

Steve could only stare at him blankly for a moment as the words sank in. “Eddie—” he began hesitantly, sitting up straight.

“What? Don't tell me you’ve all given up on me already?”

Oh.

Oh, no.

Steve had heard about this, how sometimes spirits don’t realize they’ve passed on, but surely Eddie had to know. What other possible explanation could he have for suddenly becoming invisible and incorporeal? 

“Eddie, what is it you think is happening here, exactly?” He asked, praying he was wrong but bracing himself for the worst. How on earth do you go about telling someone you care about that they’re dead?

“Well, clearly I–I'm…” Eddie sputtered haughtily for a moment before looking away. “I'm not sure. I’ve been separated from my body somehow, obviously. S-so It’s gotta be some weird Vecna shit, right? And uh, you can hear me and see me b-because… because we both got bit by the bats and it gave us, like, our own little freaky hive-mind type… thing?” 

He sounded less and less sure as he went on, and Steve’s heart ached for him. He remembered the bats attacking him part, but not the dying part. That just seemed cruel.

“Eddie, um,” Steve cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together nervously. “I don’t know how to tell you this but you… you died.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie snorted.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. We came back from the Creel house and you…” Steve paused, struggling for a second to force his words past the sudden lump in his throat. “Dustin was sitting there with your—”.

“No.” Eddie shook his head roughly. “No–no, because, if I'm dead… then how is it you can see me? Huh?! Explain that!” 

“It runs in my family. My dad doesn't have the gift but my grandfather was able to see ghosts, and his father before that.”

“Suuure, Harrington,” Eddie’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “So—not only am I supposed to believe that I'm dead, but also that you’re descended from some long line of ghost whisperers? Is this a joke to you?! I’m in dire need of–of fucking rescue, and you’re over here trying to fuck with me? Not cool, man. Not cool.”

Steve stood, almost reaching out as he itched to comfort the other boy in some way, but he knew well that it was pointless. “I’m not, I swear I'm not messing with you. I know it’s not what you want to hear, and I'm so sorry but I'm telling you the truth. Dustin, he—” Steve’s voice cracked. “You didn’t have a pulse, Eddie.”

“Stop it!” Eddie snapped.

“I’m sorry, really. I–”

“I said stop!” 

With a choked off sob Eddie moved to shove him away, only to stumble when his hands found nothing solid, or rather, as Eddie’s ghostly and very not solid form passed right through Steve’s body.

Steve held his breath as he waited for it, the sensation of being doused in a bucket of ice water, the spine tingling, creepy crawly thing he’d felt the only other time he’d let a ghost near enough to touch.

But this was nothing like that. 

Eddie felt… warm. And while Steve still shivered it wasn’t because the failed touch had been bad or painful. Quite the opposite, actually. He was left with a pleasant buzzing in his core, the initial warmth lingering, wrapping around him like an embrace before fading slowly.

Maybe all spirits were different. Maybe Barb had felt cold because she’d hated him, because it was his pool she died in—his fault she was out there in the first place.

But Eddie was…

Oh shit—Eddie. 

Steve spun to find him on the floor with his knees pulled up, hugging them to his chest, his huge brown eyes shining with unshed tears. 

Could ghosts cry?

Steve knelt down next to him, biting back a wince as the movement pulled at the bandages hiding beneath his shirt. He’d need to change those again tonight, they felt tacky with dried blood.

Eddie's voice shook when he finally spoke again. “I’m—dead?’

Steve bowed his head in a solemn nod. He would have given anything in that moment to be able to wrap his arms around Eddie.

“T-the bats?”

“There were just too many of them,” Steve explained. “It looked like you put up a hell of a fight, but I think you bled out.”

“My uncle, Wayne, do you know if he—” Eddie trailed off, worrying his bottom lip.

“Dustin talked to him. He couldn't risk telling him everything, but he gave him your guitar pick, and told him you were a hero. That you died a hero.”

Eddie barked a wet laugh, shaking his head.

“It’s the truth," Steve said, hoping his tone left no room for doubt. "If you hadn't distracted them we never would have made it into that attic. And If you hadn’t led them away when you did…” He didn’t need to say it, they both knew Dustin could—and likely would—have been hurt or worse, and those things would have gone through the gate and into the right side up.

It was exactly what Steve would have done too, had their roles been reversed.

“How long has it been?” Eddie asked, quietly.

“Three? No–no, four days.”

“And Vecna?”

“Down, but not out. We wounded him for sure but he got away. That's why everyone was here tonight.”

“Okay,” Eddie blew out a long breath, rubbing hard at his eyes. “What happens now? Do you like, help me find the light or something?” His eyes darted around as though some doorway or portal might appear right there in the living room. “Or maybe I'm going the other way. I can think of a few reasons the big guy might not let me upstairs, but what do I know, maybe self-sacrifice gets you a free pass?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? Isn’t this your legacy or whatever?”

“I’ve never done,” Steve waved a hand, gesturing between the two of them. “This before. I was taught to ignore the dead. Pretend I can't see them just like everyone else and let them go about their business.”

“How come?”

“Grandfather said if you get too involved, if the dead find out you can see them they’ll never leave you alone. That it’s dangerous. The dead linger for a lot of reasons, but the most common are unfinished business and revenge. Lots of angry spirits out there according to the Harrington journals.”

Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully. “Am I really the first ghost you’ve ever talked to?”

Steve thought of Barb again, the way her face had morphed into a rage-filled mask when he revealed he’d been able to see her all along, but he pushed it forcefully out of his mind.

And lied.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I just told you, my grandfather—”

“No,” Eddie cut in. “I mean why, after a lifetime of ignoring ghosts, did you choose to acknowledge me?”

“B-because, you’re—“ Steve faltered, not knowing quite how to put it into words. He wasn’t sure even he totally understood. Yes he’d started developing a crush on the guy, but it was more than that. They had a connection, Steve felt it, even if Eddie didn’t. And maybe it was normal—inevitable even, when you get thrown into this shit together. But whether it was all just trauma bonding or something more, Steve couldn’t deny the pull.

“You’re—” he tried to say again as he pushed himself to his feet, only to double over, sucking air through his teeth as the dull pain in his sides turned searing and sharp.

“Steve?” Eddie shot up as he spoke, sounding worried.

“‘M fine,” Steve grit out, managing to straighten his posture without another outburst. “Jus' tired.”

Eddie raised a single eyebrow, but thankfully didn’t argue, silently following Steve as he headed for the staircase and began to climb.

Of course, this was Eddie, so he was only capable of being silent for so long.

“Hey, how come I can’t touch you, but I can walk up the stairs?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve huffed out, breath stuttering as he neared the top landing. 

Just a few more steps.

“Do you think I could, like, sit on a couch, or—or lay in a bed?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve repeated, trying not to sound as annoyed and in pain as he felt. He just had to make it to his room, get these stupid wounds cleaned and then he could pass out for a few hours. Maybe then he’d be able to answer questions and figure out what to do about all this. 

“What if I—”

“Eddie!” Steve barked from the top step, whirling to face him. He nearly lost his balance before catching himself with a hand on the wall. His sides were screaming at him and the throbbing in his head was getting worse too. “I really don’t know any more than you do. I don’t know all the ins and outs, or why things work the way they work.  Can you please just give it a rest for a minute?”

Eddie wilted, dropping his gaze to his feet. “Sorry.”

Fuck.

“No,” Steve sighed. ”No, I'm sorry, I shouldn’t be… y’know, when you’re—”

“Dead?!” Eddie snapped, raising his head again. He looked hurt.

“Sorry.” Steve sucked his lip between his teeth.

“Whatever.”

“Eddie—”

Eddie stomped past him and into the upstairs hallway. “Spare me the pity party. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m telling you, if I was dead, I'd know it.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut again without another word. He didn’t have the energy, and If that was what Eddie needed to believe for now to get through this, then who was he to tell him what to think? It wouldn’t change the facts but if it made him feel better, what was the harm?

Somehow Eddie had guessed the right door. He waited, leaning up against the opposite wall and very deliberately didn’t look at Steve as he walked over, and pushed into his bedroom. 

Steve went right through to the bathroom to get this over with, not bothering to close the door behind him, assuming Eddie would be able to walk right through anyway if he wanted to.

Eddie did follow, still silently brooding as he found another piece of wall to hold up.

Steve ignored him for now, he felt awful but he’d try to apologize again later once the other boy had calmed down, and carefully peeled his shirt off as he stood in front of the mirror. 

The bandages at his sides looked gnarly and gross. He’d bled again, and it looked like there was something yellow seeping into the huge squares of gauze too. He turned his body to the side, looking over his shoulder to see how the road rash on his back was doing. It looked better than the front, but that wasn’t saying much. The skin around the wide scrapes was red and inflamed. He couldn’t cover those on his own and could really only clean them in the shower, but they were shallow at least and would eventually heal on their own, he figured. 

A quiet gasp reminded him of his audience, and a quick glance over through the mirror showed Eddie staring at his torso with wide eyes.

“It looks worse than it is,” Steve said quietly, quickly looking away. Which wasn’t exactly true but the last thing he needed right now was another person trying to force him to go to the hospital. 

He knew some first aid. 

It was fine.

Turning back to face the sink, Steve ran water over a washcloth and held it to each of his dressings to soak them off. The air stung when it finally hit the wounds, as though they'd been freshly opened, and, sure enough, there was definitely some pus seeping from the edges.

No problem. He’d just have to clean them extra thoroughly.

Gritting his teeth, Steve poured a hefty amount of peroxide on a new clean washcloth and began to gently pat his right side. 

The pain was instant and excruciating. 

Bile rose in his throat, a cold sweat breaking out across his body as the world around him swam. Steve swayed on his feet, dropping the cloth to the ground as he himself began to fall. 

A sudden warmth at his back, and strong hands wrapping around his chest were the only thing that kept him on his feet. Carefully avoiding the worst of his wounds, Eddie had caught him, holding the bulk of his weight until the spinning in his head stopped.

The moment Steve could stand on his own again Eddie jumped back as though he’d been burned.

Steve’s eyes snapped up, locking with Eddie’s in their reflections as he realized with a start what had just happened.

“How?” He whispered. He could still feel the imprint of Eddie’s hands where they had cradled him to his chest. He’d felt so… real, so solid, so—alive for that handful of seconds. 

“I-I don't know!” Eddie said, a little too loud in the small space. “I didn’t even think, or-or like, I forgot that I couldn't. I saw you about to go down and I didn't want you to hurt yourself.”

“I didn’t think it was possible." Steve took a step towards him. "You should try to do that again.”

Eddie tucked his hands behind his back, moving as far away as he could without actually leaving the room. “Don't we have more important things to worry about? Like maybe getting you to a hospital?”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “I told you, it looks worse than it is.”

It was abundantly clear that Eddie didn’t believe him, but something about the accidental touch had freaked him out enough that he let it go.

As quickly as he could, Steve finished cleaning the ruined expanse of his stomach and got both sides wrapped in fresh bandages, managing to do so without nearly fainting this time, and threw a clean t-shirt on to hide the evidence. Hopefully that would stop Eddie looking at him with those big brown fucking sad worried eyes of his. 

Out of sight, out of mind, and all that. 

As much as he liked Eddie’s attention on him, these weren’t exactly the circumstances he would have hoped for.

Steve shut the lights off, and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.

“We should try it again,” Steve mumbled through a long drawn-out yawn.

Eddie laughed softly from his corner hiding spot. “What was that, big boy?”

Steve wished he’d try to join him on the bed, but didn’t know how to ask. He untangled one of his arms from the sheets, reaching a hand out in Eddie’s direction. “Touch me?” 

The room was dark, and it could have been that Steve was a little delirious but he was pretty sure a light blush crept over Eddie's cheeks as he took a step closer, his own ringed hand outstretched.

The sight set off butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Steve waited to feel the tips of their fingers brush, was desperate to feel Eddie’s touch again if he was honest, but it was no use, Eddie’s long digits passed right through.

“Maybe we have to–” Steve interrupted himself with another deep yawn. His body still ached but now that he was tucked in and warm in his bed, it was getting hard to fight the inevitable. 

“Just go to sleep, man,” Eddie said, his lips quirking into a small crooked smile. “It's not like I'm going anywhere.”

It should have been awkward, or weird to know someone would be there all night, lurking around while he slept, but as Steve drifted off he felt safer than he had in a long time, oddly comforted by the fact that Eddie would be there watching over him, even if he was just a ghost.

Thanks as always to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta and an absolutely amazing cheerleader!

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog 

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad

Fic taglist (open): @sidekick-hero

[steddieas-shegoes]

wanna shout it from the rooftops

for @steddie-week prompt 'secret relationship'

rated m | 1397 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: secret relationship, established relationship, love confessions, making out, coming out

🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫

As soon as Dustin walked out the door, Eddie was backing Steve against the wall, lips on his neck, hands wandering across his arms and sides.

“God, I thought they’d never leave,” Steve gasped, throwing his head back as Eddie’s teeth bit into his collarbone. “Need you so fuckin’ bad, baby.”

“Looked so good in that apron. So unfair I couldn’t get my hands on you when you were making cookies for us,” Eddie groaned against his skin. “Wanna fuck you right here. Open you up on my tongue-“

“Sorry, Steve! Forgot my-“ Dustin’s voice stopped before Eddie could even register that he should pull away. “What the fuck!”

“Language!” Steve yelled as he shoved Eddie away from him, trying to fix his shirt and hair. Not that it would do any good; Dustin just got an eyeful already.

At least they weren’t naked. Yet.

“Please tell me you were fighting,” Dustin sounds distraught, which isn’t fair. He should’ve knocked.

“You spent months making me feel bad for not wanting to hang out with your new best friend and now you’re hoping we’re fighting?” Steve placed his hands on his hips, subtly trying to catch his breath and will his dick back to soft. “What about that looked like fighting to you? How have you not sat through sex ed yet?”

“You were having sex?!” Dustin’s voice cracked. “In the hall?!”

“Of my home!” Steve threw his arms up. “And no we weren’t having sex, but we were getting there.”

Eddie held his hands up, brain finally coming back online enough to intervene before things got out of hand.

“Okay. Dustin, why the hell are you even back?”

“I forgot my notebook.”

“And you decided to storm in here like it’s your house instead of knocking?” Steve was trying to take it easy, but everything was falling apart.

They’d kept their relationship a secret for nearly three months now. Robin didn’t even know.

Now that Dustin saw what he did, everyone would know and everyone would hate them and then Eddie would leave Steve for making everyone hate them and-

“Stevie!” Eddie’s hands were on his cheeks as Steve focused back in on what was going on. His breath was coming in short pants, and if Eddie wasn’t so close to him, he isn’t sure he’d be able to see him. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’ve gotta breathe for me.”

Breathe for Eddie. He could do that. He did that all the time.

He liked doing what Eddie told him to, he liked the praise that came when he did it, he liked being good. Breathing was easy.

He took a deep breath, then another, relaxing as Eddie smiled back at him encouragingly.

“That’s good, angel. Keep doing that. I’m gonna get Dustin’s notebook, okay?” Eddie didn’t seem like he wanted to leave Steve alone, but he didn’t have much of a choice right now.

“Okay.”

Eddie walked away, towards the study that they’d turned into a game room for the kids to hang out in, and Steve immediately felt the panic settle in his chest again.

“Steve?” Dustin asked, stepping closer to him.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell any of us?” Dustin sounded hurt, looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was worried you’d hate me, or Eddie. That all of you would hate us for…for being different,” Steve looked down at his hands. “Didn’t wanna lose you.”

“But it’s okay if you’re gay, Steve. None of us would care!” Dustin exclaimed. “I just kinda thought you liked girls. Like Nancy.”

“I do. I just also like guys. I love Eddie,” Steve provided, relaxing slightly at Dustin’s words.

“You love him?” Dustin asked.

“You love me?” Eddie asked from the doorway, clutching Dustin’s notebook tight to his chest.

Steve wasn’t used to keeping his crushes and relationships a secret. He was used to holding hands in the movie theater and kissing a girl goodbye at her door. He was used to being able to show how much he loved someone without a filter.

But with Eddie, he’d held back. He had to in some ways, and they agreed it was best not to give anything away around anyone else for a while, but he’d hoped that Eddie saw how much he cared about him when they were alone.

“I do. I thought it was pretty obvious,” Steve stepped closer to Eddie, ignoring Dustin’s presence entirely. “I love you.”

Eddie threw Dustin’s notebook to the side, ignoring the ‘hey!’ that Dustin let out, and pulled Steve into his arms.

“Can’t believe you told Dustin before you told me,” Eddie laughed against his shoulder. “You know he can’t keep a secret.”

“Yeah, well. I love you enough to not care if everyone knows,” Steve said as he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, kissing the side of his head and lingering there for longer than he probably should in front of a guest. “Was gonna tell you tomorrow after our date.”

“You mean the super secret plans that you wouldn’t give me any hints about?” Eddie pulled away, searching Steve’s eyes. “Will you tell me them now?”

“Maybe when Dustin leaves.”

Both of them turned to Dustin, who was staring at them with a blank look.

“Dustin?” Eddie asked, snapping his fingers to get his attention.

“I’m gonna go,” Dustin said, still looking lost. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Hey, man,” Eddie let go of Steve to walk towards Dustin. “We good?”

“Yeah! I just thought you guys barely even liked each other and you’re actually in love and having sex and I’m just trying to do the math.”

Steve snorted, but straightened out when Eddie glared at him.

“If you wanna talk about anything, you can stay. You seem kinda…out of it.”

“I’d rather not intrude right now,” Dustin said, gesturing to the way their hair and clothing was still a bit disheveled. “But you are gonna tell everyone soon, right? So I don’t have to keep it a secret?”

Eddie looked over at Steve, smiling when he gave him one nod in agreement.

“Yeah, dude. We’re gonna tell everyone at the next movie night,” Eddie said as he turned back to Dustin.

“Thank god!” He breathed out. “Then I’m leaving so you two can do…whatever it is you do.”

He didn’t wait for them to respond, rushing out the door, nearly forgetting his notebook again.

Eddie laughed as he slammed the door, his head falling onto Steve’s shoulder as they fell against the closest wall. Steve was holding Eddie up, laughing with him at the absurdity of being caught by their favorite, but most likely to tell everyone, kid.

“He’s gonna go tell everyone right now, you know that, right?” Steve gasped out between laughter.

“Oh yeah. We’ll be lucky to have another hour before they’re all showing up here with questions,” Eddie said breathlessly.

He pulled back to look at Steve, both of them flush with sudden relief that it was no longer a secret. He leaned in to kiss him once on the corner of his mouth, smiling when he felt Steve’s lips turn up.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered.

“Even though I made you wait to tell everyone?” Steve sounded unsure suddenly, like maybe Eddie would retract everything.

“You didn’t make me do anything, sweetheart. We both agreed to wait.” Eddie cupped his jaw and kissed him slow, much softer than where they’d left off before being interrupted.

No matter how much he enjoyed taking Steve apart, how much he liked seeing him covered in bite marks and bruises, he liked seeing him melt like this more.

“I love you,” Steve said against his lips, already letting Eddie take more of the weight he didn’t have leaning back against the wall. “Want you. Before they get here. Please.”

“How can I resist when you ask so nicely?” Eddie nipped at his bottom lip before pulling away. “Let’s go to your room this time. Don’t want any more interruptions.”

Steve nodded and led Eddie upstairs.

If the kids showed up in an hour, Eddie would make excuses for why Steve was asleep in bed, field their nosy questions, and ease some of the burden of coming out for Steve. If they didn’t, he’d get to keep showing Steve how much he loved him.

Over and over again. Until the whole world knew.

[corrodedbisexual]

Helping hands (& nails)

Steddie | T | ~5.3k | AO3 link

Written for @steddie-week Day 2: hands

Featuring: Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Homoerotic Wound Care, Flirting, First Kiss, Inexperienced Eddie Munson, Gay Eddie Munson, Confident Bisexual Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Post-Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, POV Steve Harrington

“You literally want me to scratch your back.” Steve groans. “Yes. Definitely, do that. Please.” “Hmm, I love it when they beg.” Steve freezes, speechless for a second. His face suddenly feels several degrees warmer. “Oh my god, shit, sorry, that was—” Eddie begins mumbling awkwardly, moving away, and Steve won’t have it. “Dude, you mind not flirting with me while I’m suffering here?”

It’s a little over a week since Vecna got defeated, and Steve’s got an uninvited guest at his house.

Uninvited is not the same as unwelcome, obviously. Frankly, Steve’s glad to have some company. Really glad. Although technically, Eddie Munson is still supposed to be on bed rest.

Doctor’s orders were two weeks; the demobats got the guy pretty roughed up, taking several juicy bites out of his torso before they all went down along with their master. He got patched up pretty quickly, but his overall weakened state from massive blood loss, the doctors’ concerns of infection and possible Upside Down creature-related consequences, and that annoying little matter of clearing him of the ridiculous murder charges all kept Eddie on a government-sealed floor of the hospital for a whole week, with no visitors allowed.

It’s no wonder that when he was finally discharged to go home, he lasted three whole days before showing up on Steve’s doorstep, unceremoniously inviting himself in and complaining about being so bored he was about to start clawing at the walls of his bedroom.

And, well… It’s Steve’s day off anyway, and his entire planned entertainment for the day was a potential lunch phone call from Robin to gossip and complain about how impossible Kieth is to survive a shift with.

Plus, at least it’s better if Eddie hangs out at his place instead of going out somewhere and doing something stupid that would get him to pop his stitches. Like climbing a tree. Steve hasn’t known Eddie for long, but in a way, he’s known enough to suspect something like that might happen.

But the best part is, Eddie Munson turns out to be really good company. For the first few minutes after the guy arrived, Steve’s a bit worried it would be quiet and awkward; after all, what did they have in common besides the whole Upside Down trauma (definitely not a fun conversation topic)? But the idea that it could be quiet with Eddie around turns out to be absolutely laughable. The guy keeps chatting about anything and everything, from how annoying it is to keep track of all the meds he’s supposed to take to random gossip from the trailer park. He’s vibrant and chaotic, and has a dry deadpan sense of humor that Steve finds himself genuinely laughing at; and pretty soon, he starts wondering if him and Eddie could actually be friends back in high school if the whole ridiculous system of social circles didn’t exist.

Halfway through some other half-finished thought, Eddie suddenly asks, “You hungry? I’m kinda starving, Wayne’s getting groceries tonight and the only option I had for breakfast was, I shit you not, a fucking box of Honeycombs, and honestly? I’d rather eat a demobat. Well, if it was cooked, maybe. Hey, d’you think roasted demobats could be a thing?”

He keeps rambling as he walks, with Steve trailing behind him, grinning and shaking his head because… well, damn. This guy sure is something else. Maybe exactly the kinda something Steve didn’t even know he needed in his life. Honestly, he’d probably say the same thing about Robin last year. Is this some profound universal balance thing? Out of something horrible must come something really good?

Read on AO3 | Divider credit

[madelynraemunson]

HEY MADDY, WHAT’S ON TV? 📺

𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 (…𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬) part 1/2

🥡 steddie x freaky friday fanfiction • RATED: NC-17 🥡

SUMMARY: Dustin’s science experiment goes horribly wrong and his two ‘bickering besties’ have to suffer the consequences.

WORD COUNT: 11.4k words

CONTENTS CONTAIN: (EASTER) EGGS, WHEAT, METAL, PARALLELISMS, A PINCH OF COMEDY, ANGST, AND LOTS OF SWEARING

ALLERGENS: CHEESY, CORN(Y), SHELLFISH (sorry eddie)

author's note: might put this on ao3 idk this one's a big boi.... hey y'all! i’m a little late to the steddie body swap train, but have arrived nonetheless! also i’m so stoked that jamie lee curtis and lindsay lohan are currently working on a freaky friday 2!! one of my fave childhood movies and i can’t believe we’re getting a parte dos :,) also, jake alan = corroded coffin in this AU

🥠

“Jesus Chr— what did you do to my hair?!”

“What did you do to MINE?!”

Perhaps a rewind is necessary. Metaphorically, of course. Time travel’s not real! ;)

      ◄ ◄ ◄  R E W I N D  🎞️

The year is 1989. Camp Knowhere. And since it’s the last year before he ages out of summer camp, Dustin Henderson is determined to 'WOW' everyone with his newest invention.

“They’re kinda like boner pills.”

“Oh...! WOW...?”

It’s not the weirdest thing Steve's heard come out of Dustin's mouth. In fact, he's practically immune to insanity at this point, having been surrounded by hormone-driven teenagers for a month and a half straight.

“Look I know, it sounds crazy,” Dustin pleads. “But imagine being able to walk a mile in someone's shoes just by eating a cookie. They'd be like the Viagras of empathy!"

Again, not the weirdest thing Dustin has said. 

And for as long as Curly keeps hanging out with Eddie Munson, his Other Older Male Friend (O.O.M.F.) constantly like he has been all summer, it certainly won’t be the last.

Being a volunteer camp counselor hasn’t panned out as expected for Steve Harrington. 

For the past six weeks, Dustin has spent most of his time locked in his cabin trying to perfect his new creation. But he's been MIA for so long, Steve hasn’t been able to teach him how to start a fire, pitch a tent, or even pick Dustin's brain about being his guest for Show and Tell. 

Making s’mores. Canoeing. Telling scary stories in the dark. Dustin and Steve are missing out on actual summer activities. The real reason he signed up to be counselor in the first place. 

But you know who has been able to spend time with Dustin?

"Eddie and I spent almost every night trying to come up with good fortunes," Henderson boasts.

Not the counselor, but the Certified Loiterer.

Steve bitterly kisses his teeth. “That’s awesome, man! But hey, speaking of spending—"

"They are so clever too. You gotta hear 'em!"

"I'm sure they are! But now that you're practically finished, I was sorta hoping—"

“AND,” Dustin adds. “if you get a good one you can add ‘in bed’ after for some comic relief.”

Steve crosses his arms as he finds himself fading back into silence.

“You are destined for great adventures…in bed,” Curly smirks, waving a fortune in Steve’s face. “You will be met with great luck this week... in bed. You are a pleasure to have around…in bed.”

“Agh, please tell me one of Harrington’s lays said that,” comes a voice. “Otherwise this interaction is very concerning.”

Dustin gasps. “EDDIE!”

Speaking of The Devil.

Like nails on a chalkboard, in walks Eddie Munson with his fucked up voice, fucked up rep, fucked up hair, and a fucked up sense of humor to match.

“Hey, Henderson,” Eddie gives a curt nod. “Hey, Steve.”

“Munson.”

“I was just telling Steve about my fortune cookies,” says Dustin. “I can’t wait to win people’s hearts over at Show and Tell, along with my spotlight secret weapon.”

“What’s your spotlight secret weapon?” Steve inquires.

“You’re looking at him,” Eddie quips. “I’m Dustin’s music act for his Show and Tell.”

There’s a pang in Steve’s heart that he wishes wasn’t there. All summer, the Retired Cub Scout had been secretly hoping that Dustin would ask him to be his Show and Tell buddy. He had so many survival skills up his sleeve that he wanted the little twerps to know before they age out. 

But the stars had other plans, he supposes.

“My friend’s friend’s dad is a music scout for Cardinal Records,” Dustin explains. “If he shows up and sees Eddie play, Corroded Coffin may have a chance!”

“Yup,” Eddie nods. “We’re performing our new song Take Me Away.”

He hands Steve a piece of crinkled paper from his back pocket, to which Steve reads after clearing the lump marinating in his throat.

“Don’t wanna grow up, I wanna get out. Hey, take me away,” Steve reads.

“Aren’t the lyrics so metal?!” Dustin beams in admiration.

“They’re uh, very edgy…” Steve shrugs.

“And incredibly fitting, when you consider the circumstances. Just wait ‘til you hear Eddie and his band perform it!”

“I think I’ll be busy with camp duties...” Steve grimaces, handing the sheet back over to Eddie. “Sorry.”

“No worries, they will just perform in your garage. They still gotta practice. Been needing another place to do so too."

Steve's eyes widen.

“What?!” he shakes his head. “Absolutely not. When did we agree on this?”

“Uh, beginning of summer?" Dustin points out. "You said you’d be willing to accommodate any of my needs. Especially since my mom’s gone to her spicy book retreat and basically threw away keys to the house.”

Steve now recalls telling Dustin that. But nowhere did it say babysitting his replacement would be in the cards.

"I'm sorry Harrington, I know I'm kinda butting in…" Eddie acknowledges.

Finally, something he and Steve can agree on.

"But we're kinda desperate at the moment, so it would mean the world. You won't even know we're there."

“It’s still no!” Harrington blubbers. “Okay? With the loud music and Eddie’s screaming, I’ll have the Loch Nora book club moms with pitchforks at my door. We have a reputation to uphold.”

“Who’s to say the Loch Nora moms don’t want in on all the angsty fun?” Eddie smirks. “Corroded Coffin’s an acquired taste, but I’m sure your… progressive… neighborhood wouldn’t mind.”

"It's not that," Steve shakes his head. "Even though we’re ‘progressive’, my neighborhood is still very much suburban-families-with-young-kids. They'd call the cops on us, for sure."

But Loch Nora was just a decoy for Steve’s true feelings. If everyone sees how cool Eddie is, they’re going to make him their Comfort Grown Up. Then where would Steve go?

Especially if they caught a glimpse of those big, brown eyes and the way they glisten in the amber sunset. And apparently Dustin’s caught wind of this Munson Magic as well; because not too long after, he’s imitating Eddie, the coercion-via-cuteness factor ramping higher on his part. And how could Steve say no to his lil face?

“Just this one time, Steve?” Dustin begs. “Please, please, pleaaase?”

“Dustin…” Steve shakes his head. 

“Pleaaase,” a pouty Eddie chimes in, slyly gazing up at Steve through his long, batty lashes. “We’ll behave, Stevie. We promise.”

But Harrington is standing his ground. Eddie already stole his best friend away from him. His gig. His spot at the Cool Adults table. Did he want Harrington’s life too?

“NO!” Steve insists. "NO!"

“YEAAAH!” Eddie croaks into the microphone while he seductively strums at his guitar. “YEEEEAAAHHHH!”

Performing in Steve’s garage was a YES-go after all. Especially if free bud has anything to do with it.

"This dude and his band are pretty good," Argyle comments as he takes a long, savoring drag from his hefty blunt. "Corroded Coffin, man. They're gonna be big one day."

"Just wait til you hear his guitar solo," Jonathan adds. "Eddie's been working on it all summer for Dustin’s show.”

The walls of the Harrington household are forced to withstand a migraine-inducing bass while everyone — but Steve —  jams out, losing themselves in a song about wanting to stay young forever.

“Don’t wanna grow up, I want to get out. Hey! Take me away…”

Jealousy festers within the host as he watches, taking in the sight of an awestruck Dustin playing his air guitar alongside Eddie, resonating with the lyrics the way he passionately yells,

“I wanna shout out, ‘take me away…away away away’…”

“Someone take me away,” Harrington’s inner monologue spews.

But it’s not that Steve hates the song, nor is he having a miserable time with everybody. It’s not that he hates Eddie or his stupid raspy voice, or the way he makes the guitar sing with every calculated twiddle of his fingers and every provocative buckling of his knees. In fact, it’s the opposite. Steve just didn’t want to admit that Dustin’s O.O.M.F. — and the other members of Corroded Coffin — were actually… pretty cool. 

And judging by the fact that Eddie was most likely Dustin’s first choice for the talent show, there was a cornier, more ominous second thing that Steve isn’t willing to admit: it’s that the exclusion really hurts him.

“Same old SHIT,” Eddie sings. “Never ends.”

“WHOA!” Harrington exclaims, waving his disapproving hands in the air.

The band stops the song immediately, the negative feedback from the amp plaguing the air while they stare around in confusion.

“What?” Eddie demands.

Any chance there was for Steve to try to humble 'The Freak', he took. And clearly this time around, there was no hesitation.

“You’re not really gonna say the S word when you perform at Show and Tell, are you?”

“The S word?” Munson retorts. “What, is this preschool?”

Ba-dum-tss! goes the drummer.

"Gareth," Eddie scowls.

Gareth Emerson digresses with a sheepish shrug.

“No," Steve shakes his head. "But it’s still a summer camp for kids.”

Eddie chuckles at this. “Come on, Harrington. Don’t act like YOU weren’t cussing up a storm at their age. The kids are all in their rebellious phase anyways. They’re gonna love it.”

Eddie’s known Steve since elementary school. This is the same guy who held swear contests, who cussed because he thought it made him look ‘mature’. The same guy that used to call women “bitches”. The same guy who almost got suspended because he and Tommy H. were yelling out slurs during an assembly, but luckily his superintendent mom was there to pull some strings to simmer it down to one afternoon of detention.

Harrington couldn’t possibly choose now to care about profanities.

“I’d rather you not bend the rules of Camp Knowhere.”

Bend the rules?!

It doesn’t take too long for Eddie to figure out that the issue goes beyond Camp Knowhere. In fact, both of Dustin’s O.O.M.F.s know that. 

 “Why the sudden change of character, Harrington?” Eddie crosses his arms. “Huh? After all these years?”

"All these years, what do you mean all these years?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

Captivated, nosy eyes bounce back and forth between the two as they argue... on and on and on and on.

“This happens every time,” Jonathan hisses to Robin at a low whisper so that they don’t hear. “Do you think they ever get tired of it?”

"I actually don't know what you mean," Steve counters. "And quite frankly, I feel like you don't seem to really know me at all."

“Hey, I’m just following your lead,” Eddie shrugs. “You never took time to get to know ME when we were in school. Unless I had something you and your friends wanted of course.”

“So all of this is MY fault?”

“I never said it was.”

It’s almost ritualistic at this point, the arguing. 

Just then, Gareth starts up again, issuing a theatrical drumroll to ease the tension. It only seems to make it worse, judging by how Eddie and Steve hiss at him immediately.

“GARETH!” “EMERSON!” 

The drummer refrains once more. 

Steve is quick to pick up where they left off. “I can read between the lines.”

“Crazy thing to say for someone who’s paid people to write his book reports.”  

“I’m just…looking out for everyone, okay?” Steve snaps, reverting the conversation back to the kids. “The children might not care, but it may look bad on the counselors. And I like my summer gig, spending time with my best friend. I don’t wanna jeopardize it.”

A self-serving response. Eddie knew to not put it past Harrington.

Regardless, Eddie chooses to comply. Not to give Steve what he wants, but because Dustin's happiness is on the line. And if his best friend is happy and Corroded Coffin gets a record deal, then Eddie wouldn’t have to deal with Steve Harrington or Hawkins much longer. 

The band starts up again and, this time, remains uninterrupted. 

Meanwhile, Steve sulks back in his seat, unable to pinpoint why he felt like the issue wasn’t resolved. But he soon realizes that for as long as Eddie Munson is part of the equation, the problem will remain a constant.

“Same old stuff,” Eddie bitterly corrects himself. “Never ends.”

“Fortune cookie, anyone?”

Two hours feel like days when everyone is stoned. And given that everyone’s too tired (and high) to drive themselves home, a sleepover at Steve’s quickly becomes inevitable. 

“Did we get the same fortune?” Jonathan asks Argyle.

“No, we didn’t,” he shakes his head. “Guess we’re not feeling sorry for each other tonight.”

Dustin chuckles.

“What are we feeling tonight? I’m thinking pizza.”

Leaving everyone else to decide on munchies, Steve and Eddie appoint themselves as the Designated Clean-Up Crew, searching for and rounding up any trash they see laying around.

“So, what are you up to nowadays?” Steve questions. “Since we graduated high school.”

“Oh, same old, same old,” Eddie offers a tense chuckle. “Still in The Biz, but the money’s good. Thankfully this time I’m doing it without my pops around.”

It strikes a nerve in Steve. He’d give anything to have his dad around. 

He also wouldn’t be proud to be in the same position as he was in high school. Didn’t Eddie want to grow as a person?

“That’s amaziiing.” Steve lies.

Uncomfortable now, Eddie clears his throat, shifting his attention back to Steve so that he can eat his own words.

“What about you? What’s The Hair been up to?”

“I work at Family Video and then help out at camp right after.”

“Try bringing that to the career fair,” Eddie scoffs jokingly.

“Sorry?”

“I said great gig you got there,” Munson perjures.

Their gazes meet for a brief, charged moment before quickly averting. 

Eddie watches Steve with both curiosity and disdain. 

This is who his best buddy is seeing on the side? It’s hard for Eddie to think of anything Dustin and Steve could possibly have in common. What would they even talk about? Maybe the new Brook Shields movie, hair gel, and their favorite ice cream flavors, but that’s just about it. And Steve Harrington doesn’t seem like the best influence for Dustin anyways.

Steve’s eyes flicker towards Eddie, trying to hide his scrutiny behind a thinly veiled expression of disinterest. 

He notes the way Eddie’s band tee has seen better days, the sleeves ripped and the print faded, and the way he absolutely reeks of Mary Jane and indistinct rubber from a Spirit Halloween store. If Dustin brought Eddie home to Mrs. Henderson, she’d probably stroke out. 

Just then, a very intoxicated Robin chimes in.

“Duuude, Eddie. It’d be awesome if Coffin got this gig.”

“Oh, I know right?” Eddie lights up immediately. “We’d be out of this rugged town once and for all and living life in the big city.”

The distaste for Eddie only amplifies with that statement. 

All of Steve’s life, he’s had nothing but good experiences in Hawkins. To have a “rough” upbringing, you had to be looking for trouble. Which is something Eddie and his father, Al seemed to have been doing since the beginning of time. 

“What’s so rugged about Hawkins?” Steve challenges Eddie.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Eddie mutters.

“I would, actually,” Steve taps his feet impatiently. “Go on, tell the class, Eddie. What is so rough-and-tough about this part of town?”

Eddie knows Steve is trying to set him up. He thinks for a moment, carefully crafting his words before speaking.

“There’s just…” Eddie says with trepidation. “A lack of equal opportunity to succeed. Always has been. But in the city, opportunity is everywhere. For everyone. Indy would be a perfect, clean slate for us.”

It’s like a sock to the face. 

Lack of opportunity? Eddie is most definitely looking for problems now. If he wouldn’t consider Steve being nice enough to lend him his garage — even when he didn’t like him — an ‘opportunity’ to succeed, then what would he consider?

“I mean, sure. Hawkins has issues like any other city, but I think there are equal opportunities for everyone,” Harrington protests. 

“Very rich coming from you, Suburbia.”

“Uh oh,” Dustin mutters.

Now Steve is pissed. 

Does Munson think that just because Steve lives in a nice house he’s never had problems in his life? With that logic, Eddie isn’t going to get himself very far. It’s very evident now, given where he currently is.

“Why can’t you accept the fact that life comes for others too?!” Steve spits. “Life is also hard for me, you know!”

“Guys…” Dustin starts.

A bitter laugh expels from the pit of Eddie’s stomach.

“Life is hard for you?!” Eddie exclaims. “It’s hard for you? How can life be that hard? Hey, I’m Steve Harrington. My life consists of Daddy’s money, wearing hair pomade to the ceiling and getting rejected by girls!”

“Hey, why don’t we play that one song again!” Jonathan suggests. “You know the take me away, away, away, away, away!”

But Steve and Eddie are way too locked in, committed to tearing each other to bits because the other one started it. Eddie wanted to play that game huh?

“Well all YOU know is complaining about the consequences of your own actions!” Steve spews in return. “Oh look, I’m Eddie Munson, I’m painfully self-unaware, I’m inconsiderate of everyone around me, and I commit petty crimes then wonder why the cops hate me. AND I still live with my uncle – AT MY BIG AGE.”

“YOU STILL LIVE WITH YOUR PARENTS, HOW IS THAT ANY DIFFERENT?”

“AND! You’re as loud as your guitar. NEW-NEW-NEW-NEWWW. How about you evaluate your priorities if you want a good life, Munson? And make sure you at least have some ammo under your belt before coming for me.”

“Wow,” Eddie laughs. “I don’t know anyone more tone deaf. You think my walk of life was a choice?! Not everyone was handed everything on a silver platter, Steve. Not everyone’s lives are perfect like yours!”

“Sweethearts, anybody?!” Robin butts in, desperately waving the candies in the air. “You are what you eat, and everyone in this room is VERY, VERY SWEET!”

But the boys are only getting started. If this is Robin’s version of sweet, she was about to know what sour is real quick.

“You think my life is perfect?! At least you have a father figure.”

“I want you to assess the room we’re in, Harrington,” Eddie implores. “Family must love you a lot if they’re letting you throw parties and use drugs that a loser like me was nice enough to hook you up with.”

“Leave what I do outside of camp out of this! You know, as a counselor I’m not sure I like my kids hanging out with some loitering criminal all the damn time.”

“Not sure I like them hanging out with someone who acts like an overbearing, insufferable parent.”

“At least I have parents.”

Simultaneous gasps fill the room. 

The color drains from Steve’s face when he realizes the damage he’s done. He watches as Eddie seemingly deflates, shrinking himself down at the shoulders, and then sulking in place. A blank stare overcasts his eyes, lips desperately trying not to quiver while in front of an involuntary audience. 

“That was not cool,” Steve breathes. “I’m sorry.”

But Eddie is past the point of forgiveness. And caring. Steve’s already embarrassed the fuck out of him, so what’s Dignity at this point? Steve won. Whatever game he was playing.

“You’re right, Steve,” Eddie nods, bitterly. “You have everything I want. So why can’t you just give me this one thing?”

Steve really fucked up this time. He doesn’t even know why he even said that. It isn’t necessarily a brag that Steve has parents if they aren’t active in his life. Did he really want the last word so badly, he willingly let his anger steer the direction of the conversation? Sure, Eddie has backed off now, but the thick veil of suppressed tears did not make it worth it.

“Here,” Eddie quips as he chucks Dustin’s invention at Steve’s chest. “You win. You want a cookie for it?”

Before leaving the room, Eddie helps himself to one as well. Steve watches ashamed as Eddie storms away, not seeming to care who he bumps into on his way out. With the intention to make amends, Steve darts after Eddie, following him to the bathroom only to have the door slammed in his face.

“Eddie!” Steve knocks. “Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I thought I’d gotten over my anger issues and pettiness, so I don’t know why I said all that. It’s something I need to work on, for sure.”

No response. Steve tries again.

“You guys sound really good…” he musters. “I wish I had the courage to put myself out there like that.”

Steve gently taps the door with two fingers now. 

“Eddie?”

On the other side of the wall, Eddie is angrily wiping away his tears, upset at himself for letting someone who wears women’s hairspray and Tiger Beat cologne get under his skin. 

Giving up now, Steve sighs to himself and turns around to prop his back against the door. And in case Eddie decides to come back out, Steve decides to wait a while longer, reading the fortune from his fortune cookie in the meantime. 

“A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another’s eyes. When what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.”

“What could that possibly mean?” Steve thinks to himself as he takes a bite from the cookie. 

And at the same time on the other side, Eddie also cracks open his cookie. A nice little dessert with some kind words are sure to make him feel better. He reads his fortune.

“A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another’s eyes. When what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.”

“…in bed,” he adds with a chuckle.

Just then the ground begins to rumble. 

The sudden JOLT causes Eddie to drop his cookie and latch onto the sink for stability. Meanwhile, Former Cub Scout Steve who knows everything about Stop-Drop-and-Roll dives for the nearest piece of furniture, crawling underneath to protect himself from any debris that may fall onto him.

“EVERYONE GET DOWN!”

“JESUS CHRIST!” Eddie yells.

Hawkins doesn’t get many earthquakes. But according to the news, Roane County was due for a big one. This could well be it. 

But as fast as the earthquake happens, it fades away. And next thing Eddie knows, he’s taking deep breaths, gathering his composure before he swings open that door. 

“Shit — Harrington, are you okay?”

Steve scans the room, looking around for any debris that may block his plight towards safety. 

“Yeah I’m fine, thanks Munson,” Steve gulps. He allows Eddie’s firm hand to hoist him up. “Just a bit shaken up. Are you okay?”

Eddie nods his head rapidly. “I’m fine too,” he insists. “I’m just worried about everyone else.”

Running back over to the garage now, a frantic Steve and Eddie call out to their friends to make sure they’re okay. But when they arrive, they’re shocked to see everyone conversing, laughing, and ordering pizza, almost as if nothing had ever happened.

Steve coughs to make his presence known. “Did you guys feel that?”

Everyone turns to them.

“Feel what?” Dustin inquires.

“There was an earthquake.”

“No, there wasn’t?” Robin cocks an eyebrow.

“Yes there was!” Eddie insists in agreement with Steve.

“Are you sure?” “An earthquake?”

“There wasn’t an earthquake.”

“What earthquake?”

“A chicken bake?” Argyle questions, clearly high as shit.

“An earthquake,” Jonathan repeats for him.

“An Earth Cake?!”

“QUAKE!” Jonathan hollers. “EARTHQUAKE!”

“EARTHQUAKE?!” the startled stoner yelps.

“No no no!” everyone yells out, doing their best to contain Argyle’s panic. “No, no, no!”

———

“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington. I wish I could hate you.”

Eddie winces as his neck partially kinks, due to the fact that Steve was too short-fused to get him a pillow for tonight.

At least the futon is comfortable. After flopping around like a fish out of water for a few minutes, Eddie finally feels completely relaxed. And as he flips through his mental catalog of Dream Scenarios, the aspiring rockstar begins to drift off to Dreamland, envisioning his guitar solo and jamming out with his favorite herd of sheep.

Meanwhile upstairs, Steve is too emotionally uncomfortable to hit the hay.

“Get a grip, Munson,” Steve grumbles, angry at the thought of the freeloader below him. “If you stopped thinking the world is out to get you, maybe you’d actually see some progress in your life.”

After one last fluffing of his pillow, Steve reaches into his drawer and pops a gummy into his mouth, bracing himself for more Camp Knowhere shenanigans that lie ahead and having to deal with the Freakazoid-With-a-Victim-Complex in the morning. 

12:00 MIDNIGHT

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ [insert creepy, grandfather clock noises here]

8:00 AM

Obnoxious, fluffy duvet covers stir Eddie awake.

Maybe Steve did come with some goodies after all.

Munson begins to execute his morning routine: a gangly-limbed stretch followed by an exaggerated bellow and blissful smacking of his lips.

BONK.

A lamp on the nightstand interrupts his ritual. It is then that Eddie realizes.

He’s in a bedroom. 

“What the—” Munson mutters.

Sitting up slowly now, Eddie takes a moment to assess the room around him.

Trophies and medals. Cologne and hair gel. A work desk with a basketball net over it, and a Tommy Hilfiger pop-up shop in the closet.

He’s in Steve’s room.

But where is Steve?

Curious about the time and day, Eddie instinctively goes to consult his watch that normally rests on his wrist.

It’s not there. 

Eddie then looks at his hands…his palms… Not a single blister, callous or hangnail. Those are not his hands.

“Those aren’t mine…” he thinks to himself.

Eddie then runs some stressed fingers through his hair, only to discover that its length is half of what it was when he fell asleep last night.

“That’s not mine either.”

Eddie shoots up immediately. When he finds himself standing, Eddie notices his food belly is gone, and that six pack abs have taken its place. Eddie then stares down at his feet, which are now exponentially larger. And hairier. And his thighs, now they’re a lot bulkier.

Suddenly Eddie’s hands explore his thighs, grazing his quads shortly before going to grope the two plump mounds of tissue behind him, both cheeks comparably twice the surface area of his palms!

“That’s DEFINITELY not mine.”

Absolutely panicked now, Eddie releases his grip on the butt that isn’t his and dashes out the room.

It appears that he is somehow not in his body. And the only person in Loch Nora with a dump truck for an ass — that Eddie knows of — is Steve Harrington.

But if he's Steve, then where is Eddie’s body?

The couch.

Eddie bolts over to Steve’s living room in search of his corpse. And to his surprise, he does find himself there, the chest that was his – but not his – at the same time rising and depressing as he watches himself sleep. 

“Christ if that’s not Steve in there, then I’m dead,” Eddie thinks to himself. “And quite frankly, I don’t know which one is worse.” 

Eddie clears his throat.

"H-hello? Steve?”

Nothing.

“Steve?” Eddie attempts again. “Hey. Steve. It’s Eddie. Wake up!”

Nothing.

“This is an emergency, Steve. I need you to wake up now, please.”

He gets a good snore out of the entity. Completely frustrated now, Eddie does not hold back.

"This is alarming, Steve! WAKE UP!”

Eddie unearths the bottom half of Steve's…his… body by pushing the blanket aside. When he tugs at his legs, Presumably Steve retaliates, grabbing onto the arms of the sofa to keep him in place.

“EARTH. TO. KING. STEVE!” Eddie screams.

"Whaaat, dude?!" the host in Eddie’s body grumpily demands.

"Aha! So you are Steve!"

"Duh, who the fuck else?" It demands. "Are you still high?"

"If I was, then that would better explain this."

Steve must’ve really done too much last night. Because for a while there, the person who he assumed was Eddie sounded a heck of a lot like him.

"That’s fucking weird," Steve shakes his head, turning over to look at Eddie. "For a second there, you sounded a lot like m—AAAH OH MY GOD!"

Palms clasping his… (well, Eddie’s) mouth now, Steve can only gasp in horror.

"WHO are you?” he demands. “WHAT are you?"

"It's me! It's Eddie!" Eddie gulps. "I'm... I’M INSIDE OF YOU!”

There’s a pause.

“I don't like how I worded that,” he admits.

"Yeah, neither do I..." Steve agrees. Suddenly he squints. "Is that a zit on my forehead?"

He reaches to swat it but Eddie swats him away. Through Steve's gritted teeth, Eddie hisses,

"THAT'S what you're worried about right now? What in the sane hell is happening?!"

“This isn’t the first weird dream I’ve had after taking an edible,” Steve remarks.

“Harrington, this ISN’T a dream. Okay? This is real life.”

“Yeah, okay Munson,” Steve scoffs, finally hoisting himself off of the couch to pace around. “I know a dream when I’m in one. I just gotta… pinch myself or slap myself around and I’ll be awake.”

But Eddie wastes no time.

“OW!” Steve yelps. “You just pinched my nipple!”

“You mean my nipple?”

He does it again.

“OW! Quit it dude, that’s harassment.”

The two make their way over to a mirror in the living room. To test out the impossible, Steve raises his right hand. The mirror shows Eddie doing it. Eddie begins to touch his face. The mirror responds with Steve doing it. 

It’s the confirmation they were too in denial to come to terms with. They somehow switched bodies.

“Oh god, I’m…” Steve stammers. “Wow…”

“Oh…GOD!” Eddie shrieks. He inches closer to the mirror. “I’m like an off-brand George Michael!”

“HURTFUL—”

“Harrington!” Eddie exclaims, turning back around to face himself. “What was the last thing you remember from last night?”

“Uhh,” Steve stammers. “A-all I remember was us arguing during dinner time and going separate ways after. And then there was a big earthquake that everyone insists that they didn’t feel. And then…we all went to bed, and I forgot to get you a pillow.”

“It’s okay, I’m over it,” Eddie pants. “Way bigger issues than a pillow right now.”

“And now we’re here.”

The two frantically pace around the living room. How can something like this possibly happen?

"Okay,” Eddie exhales. “Yesterday we were here with everybody. All of us were seemingly having a good time until we got pretty into it. Then the earthquake happened, we went to bed, and woke up sober… but in different bodies. Is this like…a rare phenomenon…some kind of medical emergency?”

“I don’t know, dude,” Steve shrugs. “This has never happened to me before. There has to be a scientific explanation for this."

Suddenly their two brain cells click.

"Henderson," they utter in unison.

“It was probably Dustin’s Empathy science experiment,” Steve infers. “Although I'm not sure how a fortune cookie would take walking-in-another-person's-shoes so damn LITERAL."

"God, we’re cooked!” Eddie groans. “And we can’t tell anyone but our friends about it or else we’re REALLY gonna end up as test subjects!”

Eddie starts biting his new nails and frantically pacing back and forth. Meanwhile, Steve centers in on his breathing before emotionally responding to the situation in front of him.

“Okay…” Steve exhales. “Let me just gather my thoughts… You’re in my body and I’m in your body.”

“...Right,” Eddie nods, annoyed since they’d already established that. “Does it seem less scary now that you’ve said it out loud?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head.

“Alright, cool,” Eddie shrugs. “Just checking.”

They look at each other, absolutely petrified of the reality that has now sunk in. And before they seek any other forms of help, there was one more final thought the two needed to share alone… one O.O.M.F. (Other Older Male Friend) to another, in the comfort of Steve’s living room.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

[cue panicked guitar rift here 🎸⚡️]

“This is so not cool, man, this is SO not cool!”

Argyle, Jonathan, and Robin are the first ones at the scene. Along with Dustin, of course, who is now evidently spiraling. 

“I need some air,” Dustin sighs. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god.”

The scientist darts outside for a very reasonable and private mental breakdown. Meanwhile in his absence, everyone else attempts to get their Thinking Caps on.

“I mean…” Argyle pants. “It’s one thing to have a funky acid trip, it’s another to have an out-of-body experience…but this is…this is…”

“Freaky,” Jonathan finishes for him.

“It’s FREAKY!” Argyle agrees. “And it’s not like we can go to the cops, I mean, they'd never open their minds to something like this. They'd just ship us to the Kerley County KOOK HOUSE.”

“Or worse,” Eddie gulps. “The Lab.”

The room is drowned with frantic rambling once again as all the young adults talk over each other.

Will this be the new normal? A head-banging Steve and a preppy Eddie? It sounds like pure nightmare fuel. A disaster waiting to happen. And Dustin only programmed his fortune cookies for this… unintentionally. He didn’t program a way to undo it. 

Everyone is running out of ideas. That is until…

“Wait!” Robin exclaims. “What if you guys just…combined?”

The idea is met with retaliation.

“I beg your finest pardon?” “WE WHAT?!”

“Wait!” Eddie exclaims. “No, no, yeah! I get it. What if we… what if we just… RAN… into each other and the force will be great enough to switch us back?”

“Right! Right!” Steve frantically agrees. “Right, the greater the force, the greater the impact, and we’ll be back in our bodies in no time.”

Steve and Eddie are on opposite sides of the room before anyone else can register it. Kicking his foot around like a bull, Eddie warms himself up while Harrington takes deep breaths, grounding himself before the ordeal.

“Are they really about to…” Argyle begins.

“Sh.. sh..” Jonathan stops him.

“I really wanna see how this goes,” Robin adds.

“Okay,” Eddie huffs before he lets out a battle cry. “EN GUARDE!”

“OH GOD!” Steve shrieks.

“AHHHHHH!” 

“AHHHHHH!”

SMACK! PLOP!

Luckily the floor breaks their fall. The commotion grabs the attention of Dustin, who had just finished his meltdown. But at the sight of seeing his two friends attempt to combine, he could feel himself being launched into yet another one. 

“Okay,” Dustin sighs as he walks back in. “What the hell?!”

———

“Language, Dusty!”

The next brainiac to consult on the list is Suzie, Dustin’s girlfriend. Spawning from the Mormon Capital of the world (Salt Lake City, Utah), Little Miss Beauty and Brains is known to have a solution for just about anything. Until now, it seems.

 “I’m sorry for the language, Suzie. I’m just freaking out,” Dustin blubbers. “It’s not every day my best friends switch bodies and I have no idea how to change them back.”

“So let me get this straight…” Suzie sighs. “Steve is inside of Eddie, and Eddie is inside of Steve.”

“Okay, can we please stop wording it like that?!” Eddie pleads.

“Sorry, Steve.”

“I’M EDDIE!”

“Jiminy Cricket, this is so confusing.”

And what a sight for confused eyes it also is.  But as painful as it is to admit, it’s interesting watching “Steve Harrington” stomp at the ground muttering “Jesus H. Christ!” while “Eddie Munson” nitpicks everything about his hair in the mirror.

“Okay, let’s start from the beginning,” Suzie suggests. “How did this start? What did you use for your ingredients, Dusty Bun?”

“Passionfruit and cohosh,” Dustin answers firmly. “Well-known, NATURAL stimulants of oxytocin.”

“And you said they ate the cookies containing these ingredients?”

“Yes, and they got the same fortune which I programmed for them to feel empathy for each other when it happens. Their bodies should’ve released an immense amount of oxytocin. Instead, they uh well, they switched bodies.”

“Dusty Bun… there is no such thing as an oral oxytocin!”

“Why not?” Steve questions.

“Because it would just get destroyed in the GI tract,” Suzie explains. “Meaning there wouldn’t be any ‘stimulants’ to absorb into the bloodstream.”

“Meaning oxytocin would’ve never been released in the first place,” Eddie’s breath hitches.

“It’s also notorious for being unable to cross the blood-brain barrier,” Suzie adds. “Something always happens before it’s able to. This may as well be that something.”

“But… if it gets destroyed in the stomach…” Dustin wonders. “Then how the hell did Steve and Eddie still end up switching bodies?”

Suzie shoots Dustin a dirty look.

“How the heck…” he corrects himself.

Suzie softens up immediately. “I don’t know. Our Heavenly Father works in mysterious ways. This may have happened for a reason. I’m not sure what it is yet, but I’m sure it serves a Divine purpose.”

“Well, can it SERVE a little faster?” Eddie grumbles. “I’ve got a Show and Tell to practice for and Harrington’s got children to babysit. We obviously can’t do that for each other. People are going to think we’ve gone crazy.”

Suddenly a light bulb goes off in his head.

“Wait. Henderson! Give us a couple more cookies. Maybe if we get the same fortune again, we’ll switch back!”

“NO! No more cookies!” Steve butts in. “Who’s to say you won’t end up inside another person whose body you didn’t wanna be in?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Okay…” Dustin stops him, disgusted at the fact. “Enough.”

“Dustin is right,” Suzie nods. “Enough arguing for now, and no more fortune cookies with matching fortunes until we can find out what’s wrong!”

The boys watch as Suzie walks back towards her desk and returns with some papers and pencils.

“Here. My homework for you two is to write down every little detail there is to know about each other. This includes your day-to-day, your hobbies, and even habits. No one can know what is really going on behind the scenes.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, wait,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t like what you’re implying. We don’t have to… live life as each other… do we?!”

“In the meantime, yes. You do.” Suzie confirms. “And it will be uncomfortable, I’m not going to lie. But what else can we do?”

“Uh, go through all of Dustin’s fortune cookies until we find a pair so Steve and I can ingest THOSE!” Eddie points out.

“Yeah, and there goes BOTH my Show and Tell items!” Dustin hollers.

“Dusty, don’t worry,” Suzie speaks again. “You will get to showcase your friends and fortune cookies at Show and Tell. I’ll be doing my own research to ensure that this happens. This includes talking to some monks, priests, and rabbis. We WILL get to the bottom of this.”

The three leave Suzie’s cabin feeling absolutely defeated. 

Of course this would happen the summer Steve finally got his hair under control. And of course this would happen the moment Eddie has a potential record deal at the palm of his hands. Any other circumstance would have been okay, despite the freakiness factor. This was just shit timing if they ever did see it.

And if Suzie can’t fix it, they’re screwed.

When they get far enough away from the girls' cabins, Steve excuses himself to the nearest water fountain. In contrast, Eddie shows himself to the closest Porta-Potty, the safest place for him to have a conversation he wouldn’t be caught dead having.

“Hey God,” Eddie grumbles. “Me again.”

———

Adapting to each other’s lives certainly wasn’t easy.

It started with switching cars.

Steve’s BMW has sensitive brakes. Eddie’s beloved van, Halen, on the other hand requires more force, more aggression, something Eddie believed Steve would bust his toe doing.

And Eddie can only hope that when Steve is running around town as him, he doesn’t embarrass him all too much. He’s already not off to a good start, with a stupid Thundercats t-shirt on and his hair up in a bun.

“And when you’re outside with the kiddos, make sure they wear sunscreen,” Steve advises him. “You're a camp counselor, after all.”

“Got it.”

“And that an epipen is with you at all times,” Steve adds. “Some of the kids have bee and nut allergies and those reactions can be lethal.”

Make sure this. Make sure that. It’s odd for Eddie to be hearing it all in his own voice. Has Steve always been this annoying?

Eventually Eddie gets tired of it and consults his Walkman, blasting “Take Me Away” through his headphones to drown out Steve’s rambling. Rambling on and on and on and on… on and on and on and on….

“Eddie!” Steve shouts. “Are you listening?”

“Don’t wanna grow up I wanna get out,” Eddie sings. “HEY! Take me away.”

Eddie was listening. In fact he listens and pays attention more than Steve knows. He just doesn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

“I’m gonna get you a real job,” Steve says to Eddie.

“A real job?” Eddie tuts. “My job is real. I sell real drugs and bring in real money to help my Uncle afford our really real rent.”

“But I’m not gonna be the one doing it.”

“Sure you are. You’re me.”

“Munson, no!”

“Harrington, yes.”

“I’M NOT SELLING KETAMINE TO MINORS, EDDIE.”

“Aw. But you fit the stereotype,” Eddie smirks, rather cheekily. “Now chop chop, Rick’s expecting royalties on said sales.”

“Maybe I can land you a hospitality job. Or maybe a front desk job. Something that comes with benefits. Something practical.”

“A Munson with a normal job in Hawkins?” Eddie can’t believe his ears. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Perhaps there is a silver lining in all of this. 

For the average Hawkins resident, getting a job is no issue. It was never a choice for Eddie. Given his father’s less-than-cookie-cutter reputation – and Eddie being an involuntary extension of him – he couldn’t believe Steve couldn’t grasp that getting a conventional job is hard. And Eddie always thought Harrington needed some humbling. This is the perfect scenario for it.

“Take your feet off your dash,” Steve grumbles. “Steve Harrington doesn’t do that.”

“AyAy, Captain.”

“And stop head-banging in my body, will ya?” Steve begs. “You’ll break a sweat and un-pomade my hair.”

“God, you’re so anal about everything, Steve!” Eddie scoffs. “I feel sorry for those kids, I really do.”

If Eddie’s going to be walking around in Steve’s body, he at least wanted to relax first. But even that was impossible, given that Steve is a talker and alleged goodie-two-shoes-who-discovered-empathy-on-drugs-and-that’s-all-he-preaches-now (with the rules of a mother whose son was allergic to everything but water).

The car ride is more tense and quiet as the two approach Knowhere. Eddie is quick to scurry out when Steve approaches the drop-off curb, a little speech already prepared from the first nerve Harrington managed to get on in the morning.

“Loosen up that manbun,” Eddie commands once he’s out of the car. “You look like the Buddha went thrifting in Chicago. You also need to unclench your asscheeks a bit more if you wanna be me. And to put more fiber in your diet. How’s that for advice?”

SLAM! goes the door. Steve normally would’ve been pissed, but since he’s driving Halen, he’s lenient about it. So he watches Eddie walk away, in a stride that looks like he's constantly got a wedgie, over to the camp and towards the kids he is to watch until Show and Tell Day.

“WEAR SUNSCREEN!” Steve hisses, one last time. “…I don’t play about my skin.”

———

“Hey, Steve!” a group of campers greet Eddie as he makes his way into Knowhere.

God, this is so weird.

“Hey…kiddos?” Eddie greets them in return.

“We’re gonna go diving in the lake, just letting you know.”

“Thanks for the invite,” Eddie tuts. “Sounds like a lot of fun. Just uh, wear sunscreen.”

“Well, we try to invite you but you never wanna come with us.”

“Says who?” Eddie demands. “It’s summer, everyone goes to the lake.”

“Everyone but you,” a kid points out. “You turn us down every time.”

“I do?”

“All the time,” another kid confirms. “You say it ruins your hair.”

"I was...joking," is all Eddie can come up with.

"Really? Because it doesn't sound like you were," another child counters. "You already don't like that the UV rays have the potential to damage your hair cuticles, which aids in your fear of dryness and breakage. Furthermore, swimming in a lake filled with miscellaneous, unidentified bacterium is another concern, apart from the warm water having the potential to dry your hair out even more. Also, at windy temperatures of about 80 degrees, typical for a Hawkins summer, your hair when damp will start to frizz. Which is where your pomade and Farrah Fawcett spray come in handy. And on summer days, you give your hair 32 hours before the next hair wash rotation, to which the cycle starts again. We know the drill, Steve. You've explained it multiple times. And we get it now that you don’t like the lake."

Even the kids think Harrington's insufferable. Eddie can only shake his head in disbelief.

"I'm not who I was a day ago," Eddie shrugs. "...literally."

"Huh?"

"You gonna let me join or what?"

Suddenly, the kids’ eyes begin to light up. Steve Harrington joining them at the lake? It was going to be the most fun day they’ve ever had!

"Sure!" the kids cheer excitedly. "Al-right! Steve is joining our party!"

Eddie smiles to himself, proud of the reaction he got from the eager children. Excited cheers? Smiling faces? Now THAT is how you Camp Counsel.

And now that Eddie thinks about it, he realizes something. He’s spent most of his youth in survival mode that he never got to let loose and have fun. And while he has Steve’s body and physical activity levels, he is certainly NOT about to let that go to waste. Pomade? Eddie thinks to himself. Meet Trash Can.

“Hey guys! Wait for me!” Eddie calls after the campers. “CANNONBALL!"

Meanwhile Steve sets off to find Eddie a job.

A real job.

He tries Hawkins Mart. The roller rink. The movie theater. The coffee shops. Something that involved social interaction and hard work. 

"Hi there," Steve grins politely. "I'm Eddie Munson, and I'd like to apply for a job."

But Hawkins is anything but receptive to it.

"No."

"Nope."

"Sorry."

"Munson, eh? You related to Al Munson?"

"NO!"

Apparently misdemeanors and run-ins with the law make it impossible to land a good gig. It was no wonder now why Eddie stayed where he was comfortable.

Though, it's unconventional.

Steve is just about to lose hope when those looking for help didn't even want him.

But he wasn’t giving up. There has to be something Steve can do to increase Eddie's chances of landing a good job.

Just then, he realizes. 

Maybe it’s not Eddie’s past, but his demeanor. The way he carries himself. If he didn’t dress like a vessel for Satan every single day, this conservative town would probably take him more seriously.

It's one of life's twisted games. Steve didn’t make the rules. And he sure as hell can't change it. 

But there is one thing he can help Eddie do. He can help Eddie play the game. Master it.

And that’s when Steve sees the scissors.

———

So you can say sunscreen is the least of everyone’s worries.

“Jesus Chr— what did you do to my hair?!”

“What did you do to MINE?!”

“I had to let her breathe man,” Eddie explains. “God, Harrington. No wonder you’re always in a mood. Holding your hair up with so much gel, MY HEAD FELT HEAVIER THAN A BOWLING BALL.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve challenges him. “Well your hair was so greasy, I could’ve pat it down with a paper towel like it’s PIZZA.”

The two are at it again, reaching at each other’s hair and then swatting each other away like flies. Suddenly Robin butts into the quarrel, emerging from the kitchen with amusement spread all across her face. 

“Oh…my…god…” she says.

Steve and Eddie simultaneously stop their bickering and pan their gazes over to her. Unable to contain her laughter, Robin releases a hearty chuckle in front of them.

“Holy shit, this is the greatest thing since disposable cameras,” Robin tsks. “On that note, let me go get mine.”

“NO!” both Steve and Eddie refuse.

“This is so humiliating!” Steve whines. “I look like someone literally mopped the floor with me!” 

“You're embarrassed?!” Eddie exclaims as he points to his own, original body. “Whose Peepaw died?! Why am I wearing a grandpa sweater sourced from the crusty back bins of Goodwill?!”

"I thought it'd be fitting attire for your library job that I got you."

"You got me a job at the LIBRARY?!” Eddie shrieks. “Out of all places?"

"No other place would hire you!"

"Can’t say I didn’t warn ya."

“And why does my hair LOOK LIKE THAT?!” Steve demands. “You went into the lake with the kids, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?!”

Eddie shakes his head at him, baffled. “God forbid, I – the camp counselor — do camp counselor things! I did exactly what you told me to do.”

“WHERE DID I SAY YOU COULD MESS UP MY HAIR?”

Steve takes a moment to mourn his glorious mane. Meanwhile, Eddie starts brainstorming how he’s going to rob a high end salon for all their hair growth serums. 

Just then, Robin reemerges from the shadows with her camera, panning it directly at the two of them, as if she were some eager journalist fighting for her spot on the front page of National Geographic.

“Say cheese, freaks!”

———

Eddie was having a hard time being Steve.

Being Hawkins’ most desirable male apart from Billy Hargrove was harder than he thought. Because while women worshiped the ground Steve walked on, it was hard for flight-risk teens to take the Pretty Boy seriously.

“Christopher!” Eddie hisses. “I told you to stop domesticating the raccoons, you little shit.”

Living in the trailer park, Eddie’s no stranger to those feral, yet adorable, beady-eyed beauties. And while they were cute, holding your hand, refurbishing your trash, and performing for crackers, there was an unspoken agreement when it came to those kinds of animals: you are to never take them in.

“But it’s for research!” Christopher pleads.

“I wouldn’t care if it was for the Nobel Peace Prize,” Eddie scolds him. He places his angry hands frustratedly on his hips. “Those things can be rabid, violent, and aggressive when you least expect it. Trust me on this. Raccoons are better left alone in the wild. They can’t live with people like us.”

A low, miserable groan furls at the base of the boy’s belly. He kicks at the dirt beneath him.

“Ugh, you ruin all the fun, Steve,” Christopher whines. “Eddie Munson would never treat us like this.”

That statement just about nipped Eddie in the soul. Was this what being a buzzkill is like? Little did Christopher know that it’s actually Eddie scolding him. And that the kids were not only hurting Steve’s feelings but his as well. 

Meanwhile Steve wasn’t having a grand time being Eddie either.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING BOY?!”

He almost died. Quite literally. And if it hadn’t been for Wayne launching himself across the room to stop it from happening, the odds of he and Eddie ever switching back would’ve gone from unlikely to zero.

“What?!” Steve demands.

“What do you mean, what?!” Wayne demands. “You eat that thing you’re going to wound up in the hospital! Again!”

Steve’s eyes trail down to the delicious shrimp tacos he had bought for takeout from Estrella’s. 

Eddie is deathly allergic to shellfish. And with just a single bite of that shrimp taco, he would be in the back of an ambulance with hives and a closed-up throat. And judging by the fact that Eddie and his uncle didn’t necessarily bring home the ‘big bucks’, an invoice from Hawkins Memorial Hospital wouldn’t be an ideal situation to put him through.

“We’re already two months behind on rent,” Wayne grumbles. “You eat those tacos, kick the bucket, and rack up them bills, I may as well join ya six feet under.”

No tacos, no time and a half at work, and no solution to the problem at hand. No wonder Eddie was always an angsty mess. It definitely showcases in those lyrics too.

———

“Take me away, away, away, AWAY”

A killer guitar solo rips through the Harrington garage as Eddie strums away at the chords. 

In hindsight, it looks like Steve is the rockstar. But the feral energy is unmistakably Munson’s, to which Dustin can’t help but get lost in, dancing along as a one-man-mosh-pit to the brilliance of Corroded Coffin’s discography.

“Same old stuff, it never ends.”

“The song sounds so cool hearing it in Steve’s voice,” Dustin beams. “And I can’t believe you put him in a crop top.”

“It’s like dressing up a Barbie doll,” Eddie jokes as he puts his guitar away. He then turns his torso towards Henderson’s field of view. “Look… Harrington’s an innie.”

Dustin cackles at the sight.

“Hahaha, no way!” he cheers. “I’m an outie.”

“Me too.”

The garage lets out an insulated hum as Steve strides in with the tacos. He cocks an eyebrow, confused at the sight of Dustin and Corroded Coffin comparing navels with each other. 

“What did I just walk into?”

Eddie’s eyes light up at the sight of Steve.

“Ooh, is that Estrella’s I smell?” he inquires.

“All yours,” Steve grumbles. “Found out today that I can’t have shellfish.”

Eddie smirks at the realization.

“But I can,” he sings. “Because I’m Steve Harrington.”

Eddie rushes over to Steve to acquire the food. Steve goes over to greet the rest of the boys and to issue Dustin a long-awaited high five.

“Mmm…” Eddie coos. “Take a good look at these washboard abs, Innie. They’ll be gone for as long as I can have these tacos.”

Steve makes a face. “I can’t believe you put me in a crop top.”

“I can’t believe you cut my hair,” Eddie shrugs.

But he seems to have gotten over the fact. Hair will grow back. There were larger issues at hand today. Like how exactly Eddie is going to perform with Corroded Coffin at Show and Tell.

“Listen,” Eddie wipes his mouth. “Harrington. I have a favor. If worse comes to worst and we can’t switch back on time, I need you to perform as me for Show and Tell.”

“And why exactly would I do that?”

“Because it’s our one shot to make it big.”

“Again, why would I do that?”

“Because you love me,” Eddie sneers.

But his face drops when Steve doesn’t return the energy. 

Nowhere in the fine print did it say ‘Steve Owes Eddie’. So why would Steve bother? It’s a lot for Eddie to ask of someone he’s openly mocked for years. But now that he needs something, suddenly Steve is the coolest person in the world? It doesn’t work like that. 

“Hey…” Eddie begins. “I know you don’t like me, okay? Whatever animosity you have towards me, I hope we can move on from it one day.” 

Steve refuses to meet Eddie’s eyes.

“If you do this for me, I’ll be eternally grateful,” Munson adds. “And maybe just maybe — when Corroded Coffin makes it big and we start touring around the world — I’ll be out of your hair forever. Literally.”

“Seems transactional.” 

It leaves a bad taste in Eddie’s mouth. It was always ‘Terms and Conditions’ with Harrington. Never has he ever considered the other person’s feelings. Never has he ever done anything out of the goodness of his heart. It was always, “What do I get out of it?”. Always some sort of fucked up business move. Just like his father.

“You view everything as a transaction, don’t you?” Eddie scoffs. 

“Why would I do favors for someone who’s done nothing but disrespect me? I value my time and energy. I’m not wasting it on you.” 

“But you can waste it on being a camp counselor, right? The kids aren’t so hot about you anyways, so I don’t know why you keep showing up.”

“Because Dustin is there. Because I’m a good friend. You wouldn’t know sacrifice and loyalty if it hit you in the face.”

“Ah, there it is. The performative activism in plain sight. We all know that this is about Dustin. AAAAlways been that way.”

“Of course my summer is about Dustin,” Steve argues. “You’ve had him all year. Spending every second with him and breathing down his neck.”

“I’M the one spending too much time with him?” Eddie scoffs. “Breathing down his neck?! You’re the one who got a gig to be closer to him.”

“Does it register with you that it’s because I DON’T SEE HIM MUCH AT ALL ANYMORE?” Steve shouts. “He’s always at your stupid D&D games and never wants to hang out with me! You’re taking the spotlight, like you always seem to do!”

“That’s IT!” Dustin barks. “I have HAD it with you two fighting all the time.”

Finally, it’s quiet. And normally the two would be stoked about it, but seeing Dustin on the brink of tears does not make the last word worthwhile at all.

“Not even a life-changing catastrophe will make you guys stop! You’re in each other’s bodies for Christ’s sake and still going at it like cats and dogs.”

Dustin starts back towards the house, kicking at the chords beneath his feet that are blocking his dramatic exit. All Dustin has ever wanted from those two – and quite literally every adult in his life – was co-existence. A notion so easy, yet no one has ever been able to give him that. Not even with his damn empathy cookies.

“It all makes me feel like a failure. Locking myself in my cabin for six weeks to have my fortune cookies yield THESE results? My last year at camp too.”

“Dustin–”

“And if you guys keep this up, then I don’t wanna spend the rest of my summer with either of you. How’s that for compromise?”

“Hey. Buddy…” Steve starts again.

“Henderson!” Eddie calls at the same time.

But it’s already too late. Off Dustin goes, Camp Nowhere notebook in his arms, walkie in his pocket, and car keys jingling furiously around his fingers. Nothing worth displaying at Show and Tell if the grown ups were going to act younger than the campers there. And if Dustin’s anger wasn’t already prominent, the way he backs out of Steve’s driveway is a dead giveaway, judging by the screeching tires and the pop of the engine as he steps on the gas.

“Damn,” Jeff comments. “Taco ‘bout a tough crowd…”

Ba-dum-tss! the drum sounds.

“GARETH!” Steve and Eddie growl.

"Scott Clarke."

Hearing that name nearly gives Eddie whiplash. Especially because it came out of Steve’s mouth.

"Huh?"

Steve repeats himself. "Scott Clarke? Our middle school science teacher?”

Steve is perched at the bottom of the stairs, wading aimlessly around in guilt. Eddie watches as he props himself against the rails of his fancy staircase, almost as if to serenade him with an apology song of sorts. 

"When we were kids, he headed the Hawkins Middle AV Club,” Steve recalls. “Nancy was in it, and so was Mike and so was Sinclair, Baby Byers, and Dustin.”

“Go on…”

“Well…whenever they ran into trouble, Mr. Clarke was always there to help,” Harrington shrugs. “Always been very personable, non-judgmental, and most of all, he’s knowledgeable.”

“Okay…”

 “And with his degree from MIT, he’d be the one most likely able to get us out of this mess,” Steve emphasizes. “Just in time for Show and Tell.”

“What makes you think he’d want to help former students like us?” Eddie demands. “We weren’t in the AV club or anything.”

“Because he cares, Eddie. Current students or not.”

There’s a pause.

“Remember that one time you came into homeroom with a black eye?” Steve reflects. “And Clarke made you stay after class so he could ask if everything was okay at home?”

Attempting to mask the mushy feelings underneath, Eddie simply shrugs. Steve persists.

“Other teachers would have assumed you got in a fight or something. Even if that was the case, none of them cared to look further into it. No one except Mr. Clarke.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie admits, choked up now. “Yeah, I almost forgot about that.”

It actually was a fight that happened that day. Some random kid at school. But there were also times Eddie has gotten in scuffles with his father, typically when Al Munson stumbled home too drunk for his own good and tried laying a hand on either him or Uncle Wayne. And Mr. Clarke, having grown up with Al, knew what he was capable of. Meaning it was his unspoken civil duty to look out for (Munson) Junior.

“And,” Harrington sighs. “I’m kinda really desperate here. I want you to be able to perform at Dustin’s Show and Tell. You and the band have a shot at this. I wholeheartedly believe that. And I don’t have much faith in my ability to perform as you. Neither does Dustin, it seems.”

“Steve…” Eddie begins. 

“And sure, I was upset about not being Henderson’s first choice for a while,” Steve rambles. “But I’ll be okay. The kids can learn survival skills another time. ”

Grateful tears start to form in Eddie’s eyes. He’s never seen this side of Steve before. 

“My hopes and dreams don’t depend on Show and Tell,” Steve mumbles. “And if it means a producer from Cardinal Records is going to be there, then getting Wayne and yourself out of debt does.”

Their eyes meet again.

“I can’t take that away from you.”

Suddenly the rocker feels his knees buckle.

It feels as if Eddie’s soul is about to leave his body. Or Steve’s in this sense. Struggling to keep his composure, the ever-so-rugged Eddie Munson clears his throat.

“…I didn’t think you paid attention to any of that, Steve.”

“I pay attention more than you think,” Steve counters. “And if my observations are right, Mr. Clarke might have the answer.”

Steve shrugs, dangling the keys to Eddie’s van around his fingers. He hula hoops them around as Eddie remains floored, pondering above him.

“Well?” says Steve. “You just gonna stand there and gawk, ‘Harrington’? Come on.”

Perhaps walking and gawking would be more productive. Without further hesitation, Eddie races down the steps and follows closely behind Steve before shutting the door to the house.

“Wipe your feet,” Steve commands as he unlocks the doors to Halen.

“What do you mean wipe my feet?” Eddie snaps. “It’s MY van!”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who’s been driving it,” Steve counters with a glare. “And I’m saying wipe your feet.”

Nonetheless, Eddie sighs and does as he’s told. But he’s not happy about it. 

Never in a million years did he think Steve Harrington would tell him how to run his own van. Nor did he think Harrington would actually end up being a good dude. Both were very humbling experiences. And while King Steve drives them off to Hawkins Middle, willingly blasting Metallica and doing his best to head-bang, Eddie crosses his arms and stares blankly out the passenger side window.

“I’m never eating anything Dustin makes me again.”

———

"So..." Eddie prompts. "Can you fix us?"’

“If it isn’t broken, then do not fix it,” Mr. Clarke advises. 

There was only so much that could be disclosed to their former teacher. Being an educator also meant being a mandated reporter, and it’s without a doubt government officials would bust down the doors of Camp Knowhere and run a freak raid on Dustin’s science experiment had they known the truth. Steve and Eddie had to gloss over practically everything.

“I appreciate and am honored to know you two trust me with your dilemma,” Mr. Clarke nods. “That being said, it is normal for gentlemen your age to go through an identity crisis after experimenting with recreational drugs. It will subside, but only if you don’t fight it.”

A decade can certainly change things. Steve and Eddie never expected their most logic-driven teacher to embrace his heart, dressed in a brown linen robe, as he calmly kept them on standby with soothing, meditative “Ommm”s while they spiraled into desperation in his ‘BACK TO (S)C(H)OOL’ classroom.

“But what is the science behind this?” Steve demands. “Is something happening in the…the… what did Suzie call it? The blood-brain barrier? Why would… Harrington and I both feel like we are living the life of the other person?”

“To question everything is to not know peace,” Mr. Clarke soothes them.

He’s saying this while criss-cross-apple-sauce on his desk, by the way.

“Sometimes, it is best to simply let things be,” the educator warns. “By going against the grain of the water, you are blocking the potential you can reach if you had been in a flow state.”

“Good God, you choose NOW to go on a spiritual retreat?!” Eddie hisses. “When we need science and your genius mind the most?!”

“If not now, then when?” Mr. Clarke mumbles. “If not you, then who?”

For the first time in his life, Eddie feels plagued with academic regret. He wishes he paid attention in Clarke’s class. Meanwhile Steve is considering having a word with his superintendent mother, because no way in hell is some barefoot, most-likely-vegan lunatic about to indoctrinate the future kids of America. 

“If not you… then who?” Clarke repeats. “If there's one thing I learned during my time in research… and mindful meditation…  it's that sometimes the answer is right in front of you. Or within."

Steve and Eddie look at each other.

"The world is full of obvious things," Mr. Clarke says. "...which nobody, by any chance, ever observes. Sherlock Holmes."

Accepting the absolute bust, Steve and Eddie storm out of the door and back down the stairs of their prepubescent alma mater. 

“Son of a bitch,” Eddie curses under his breath. “The damn hippies got to him before we did.”

As the two walk down the stairs, Steve sneaks a few quick glances Eddie’s way. Seeing him upset didn’t necessarily make him feel so hot. The answer is clear: they need to venture beyond a Mormon child and a middle school science teacher. They need to consult the big dogs. 

“We can go to the Indianapolis Science Center,” Steve suggests. “And maybe ask some people there. There’s also the university. If we flag down a professor from the physics or chemistry department, maybe they can offer us some insight. Or…”

“Just give it a rest, Steve,” Eddie surrenders.

“What?” Steve questions. “No! We’ve got to figure this out before Show and Tell. It’s in a couple days.”

“What’s a couple days?” Eddie demands. “We’ve been like this for nearly a week. What makes you think it won’t last another week? Or indefinitely.”

Eddie kicks at an empty carton of orange juice at his feet while Steve watches with an overwhelming sense of guilt. He didn’t want Eddie to give up. Not yet, at least.

“Hey I’m not going to let you blow this shot, Munson,” Steve demands firmly. “I know how much this means to you. This could finally be your ticket out of Hawkins. You guys were meant for the Big City.”

“No,” Eddie disagrees, absentmindedly. 

Eddie’s gaze veers off to the side, a sadness in his eyes so profound that Steve almost starts tearing up as well. 

“All… the answers… point…to no,” Eddie continues. “Can you imagine what the world would be like if everyone followed their dreams? We’d have no one doing the conventional jobs. It's not in my cards, I fear. Maybe I was always meant to stay in Hawkins, being everyone’s weed man and no one’s first choice.”

“Eddie…”

“But thanks for trying though, Harrington. Doesn’t go unnoticed.”

———

To be continued…

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[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 7th: Wayne | The Seeker - The Who | Warm a/n: vampire!eddie, eddie & wayne, implied steddie. un-betaed because I’m challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

Wayne takes Eddie in officially when he’s 13 years old. It’s winter in Indiana and the kid shows up without so much as a jacket. 

Who doesn’t buy their kid a jacket in Indiana winter? 

Well, Clyde Munson, apparently. 

He’s dropped off at Wayne’s trailer with no coat and refuses to shake Wayne’s hand when he offers it out in a gesture of good will. Eddie’s a skinny kid, a little scraggly and a lot ornery, but nothing Wayne knows he can’t fix with some hot dogs and a few hugs.

He’s almost always cold though, no matter how much weight he puts on, or however many layers he wears. Wayne makes sure he has a good coat and tries his best to keep the trailer warm but it’s tough in these midwest winters. 

Trailers hold the heat in the summer, and unfortunately, the chill in the winter. 

He takes the opportunity to Eddie how to make the best hot chocolate, even the occasional tea, and passes along his favorite soup and stew recipes. Grandma Munson taught Wayne and Clyde when they were kids, and it’s a goddamn shame that Eddie was robbed of making those memories, too. The intention was to share family recipes but Wayne’s pretty sure that Clyde’s forgotten the old peach kitchen in its entirety. Eddie loves them though, all of them– potato soup, chicken noodle, beef stew. 

They keep him and his heart warm at the same time. 

Wayne watches Eddie grow up, watches him struggle in school and with himself, but he knows his boy is trying. He hadn’t had the easiest start to life so Wayne gives him yards and yards of slack when he fails his senior year twice, when he grows his hair out, when he plays that racket at all hours of the night, when he’s brought back to the trailer park by Chief Hopper instead of to the station. He has an agreement with his old fishing buddy, and Chief Hopper knows Eddie’s misguided but harmless. 

But then Chief Hopper dies, or so he thinks, and Eddie doesn’t have this protection from the closed-minded townspeople who see him as a leper, a stain on their town. 

Eddie’s accused of murder and Wayne knows that his boy who only drinks hot chocolate out of his Garfield mug and shivers until there’s two thick blankets thrown over his shoulders didn’t do it. Not when he’s constantly talking about protecting the younger kids of Hellfire Club from the “dystopian nightmare of normalcy” and taking a cut of his weekly dealing profits to buy cat food for the park strays. 

Wayne understands why Eddie runs, but it leaves him sitting alone, wondering, afraid. Eddie’s his to keep safe, no matter how old he gets, and now he can’t. He can’t protect him from the town, he can’t protect him from the media, he can’t protect him from the basketball team or the earthquake that follows. There’s no way to link them logically, but he knows in his heart of hearts that Eddie’s disappearance and the odd series of catastrophic earthquakes are related. 

It only gets worse when Dustin gives him the bloody guitar pick, that red one Eddie wears daily cold and sticky in his calloused hands. No one will tell him the truth, but Eddie is a survivor. If there was a way to climb out of a ditch or from under a tree, he would’ve. Hell, these friends of Eddie’s that Wayne meets in the aftermath look like his company coming back from the War. 

The Harrington boy in particular tells him the same story: Eddie was lost when the Earth splintered open and he pushed Dustin out of the way in a show of self-sacrifice, but his eyes seem desperate, unfocused, lost. 

Wayne knows this was no earthquake and goes searching. 

Every night for months, Wayne goes out into the woods and looks. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, exactly, but he ignores everyone who tells him to let it go and work through his grief. He doesn’t need to mourn until he knows for sure that Eddie’s dead and he doesn’t. Not when the Harrington boy looks like there’s a truth beating at his chest as he watches him with a kind of pity that doesn’t match the story. 

It’s a sweltering summer night when he heads into the woods looking for answers for the last time. He and his flashlight search the brush, look beneath bushes and behind gnarled trees. An owl hoots in the distance and Wayne hears the snapping of twigs behind him. 

Wayne turns to face whatever approaches him, frighteningly calm. After the past few months, he’d welcome a bear. 

What he finds instead is Eddie. Or, well, a version of Eddie. His eyes are less chocolate brown and more red velvet, and he was always a pale kid but Wayne doesn’t remember the bluish bags beneath his eyes. He’s still Eddie– there’s something different about him, but it doesn’t matter. Not to Wayne. 

“Eddie?” Wayne steps forward. 

“Hey, old man.” His voice echoes, almost musical, but it breaks all the same. “I shouldn’t be here, but I couldn’t keep you in the dark anymore. A lot of things happened, but I’m… well, not quite alive but I’m okay. Or, at least I’m gonna be.” 

“Son, what the hell is going on? Let me help.” Wayne’s heart pounds in his rib cage, hard enough to be felt in his stomach and heard in his ears. 

Eddie’s eyes dart down to Wayne’s chest and back up, shaking his head rapidly. “It’s a long story, and it’s not over yet. But when it is, I promise I’ll tell you. You just– you can’t tell anyone about this or that you saw me. You’ll be in danger.” 

“Does anyone else know?” He asks, but he knows the answer. Suddenly, Steve's reactions all make sense. 

Eddie nods. “He wants to tell you too, but it’s not time yet. Just, please, listen to them. If they tell you to leave town, do it. If they tell you not to trust someone, don’t.” 

“I’m just supposed to accept that you’re alive but not really, and trust the people who kept this a secret from me blindly?” 

“Yes. I know how it sounds, but they’re your only allies right now. There’s a lot going on beneath Hawkins, Wayne. It might not be safe for much longer.” 

Wayne swallows and takes another step towards Eddie, watching as he flinches and crinkles his nose. “The earthquakes, right? They weren’t just earthquakes, were they?” 

Eddie sighs and lifts a hand to his nose, an old tell that he’s clearly brought into whatever new version of himself he’s become. “Just listen to them. Trust them. Please, Wayne.” 

There’s a desperation to Eddie’s voice that makes Wayne ache. He steps closer and outstretches a hand, the same one he’d offered all of those years ago when Eddie arrived, scraggly and scared at the trailer. This time though, Eddie takes it. 

His hands are still cold, and Wayne brings up his other hand to hold Eddie’s tightly between his shaking, calloused fingers. 

His boy’s always just needed a little extra warmth.

[yournowheregirl]

wip wednesday weekend

i got tagged by the lovely @seths-rogens thank you sm friend! 💖

again, very much in a writing / hyperfixation rut BUT!! i decided to post blurbs from previous wips, in the hopes that it'll light the writing spark yet again.

so please enjoy quite a long blurb from an unfinished steddie fic based on that one scene in mamma mia where sam proposes to donna at sophie's wedding.

Eddie realizes then and there that he might never get an opportunity like this again. Well, he might but not another opportunity that has this level of show-stopping drama and Eddie lives for some drama in his life. 

And so, Eddie does what he does best and steps on top of the nearest chair, drawing the attention of the most chaotic wedding party he’s ever seen.

“Hang on!”

All the eyes in the room are on him in a split second and while he usually basks in all the attention, he also feel strangely nervous. But it’s now or never, everyone is already staring at him like he grew a second head, so he might as well continue. 

“Why waste a good wedding, huh?” Eddie grins as his eyes roam around the room before finally landing on Steve again. “How about it, Harrington?” 

The wedding guests once more erupt into hushed whispers of shock but Eddie can’t even hear them anymore. His sole focus is Steve, who looks at him like he’s certifiably insane. And maybe he is, maybe it is insane to propose to your ex from seven years ago during your friends’ canceled wedding, but Eddie’s just gonna take a chance. He’s not gonna run away, not this time.

“What?” 

Okay, not the answer Eddie was hoping for but he gets it. Maybe Steve needs a little more convincing. 

“Aw, c’mon. You gonna need someone to boss around in that newly empty apartment of yours and it might as well be me.” Eddie hops off the chair, his head cocked to the side and doing his best impression of Bambi to sell Steve on the idea. “What do you say?”

“Are you crazy?” Steve splutters, hands on his hips. His brows are furrowed and his lips are pursed in that famous Harrington scowl that Eddie knows and loves. 

“For you? Yes.” 

“You have a girlfriend!” Steve exclaims - which is quickly followed by grandma Wheeler’s 'oh dear'.

This makes Eddie frown because he very much doesn’t have a girlfriend, hasn’t had one in months not since- “Who? Donna? Nah, we broke up ages ago.”

“But- but- we live in totally different states.”

“I can pack up my things and move to Boston, no problem.” Eddie counters. “What else you got, because as you know, I can go on for hours.”

Steve apparently takes that as a challenge because that panicked look on his face melts away and is replaced by a cocky smirk and raised eyebrows. “What if I’m already dating someone?”

“Last thing I heard from Dustin you were dating that god-awful guy named Brad and considering that he isn’t anywhere to be found-” Eddie dramatically gestures around the room. “I figure that you did the right thing and dumped his ass.”

“You wouldn’t want to get married without Wayne here.” Steve counters, crossing his arms in front of his chest and God, Eddie had forgotten how hot Steve looks when he's up for a challenge.

“We’ll just have a second wedding. Periwinkle isn’t really my color either, but I’ll make an exception for you, sweetheart.” Eddie winks.

tagging (with zero pressure!!) some old friends and some new ones: @cheatghost @sidekick-hero @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @spectrum-spectre @stevebabey @steddieas-shegoes & @steddielations big (consensual) kisses for you all, mwah!! 💖💖

[mrsjellymunson]

Hello! 👋

Hi, hello, I’m Kittie and I’m obsessed with Stranger Things, plus other weird and bizarre TV and films. Welcome to my Masterlist! (Yes, I’m finally calling it that 😆). I’m married to Eddie Munson and there’s nothing you can do to change my mind. I write for Eddie Munson (x fem! or gn!reader) and Steddie (for them and x reader), and very occasionally Joe Quinn. I hope to write for other characters at some point, and already have ideas for Mr Clarke and some of the girls.

I’m fairly new to being in a fandom (and old, in Tumblr terms!), so I might get things wrong while I find my feet so please be kind. I still feel new to writing but am enjoying myself immensely. I’m very friendly so please feel free to message or ‘ask’ 😊

I have taglists for each of my series and for everything (series, oneshots, blurbs, etc.), if you’d like to be on either just drop me a comment, ask or message 😊💗

🔞🔞 Important: I post and share mature and dark content; DO NOT interact with my blog if you’re under 18 🔞🔞 I block blank, ageless and inactive blogs so if you want to follow me please put something in your bio, including your age/age range, or at the very least respond to my request for confirmation.

Content key:

💗Fluff ❤️Mature themes ❤️‍🔥Smut 💔Hurt/angst 🖤Dark themes

MASTERLIST 👇👇👇👇

EDDIE MUNSON

Series/Multi-Parts:

THE BIOLOGY TUTOR 💗❤️❤️‍🔥 virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader Eddie’s failing class, again, so you offer two different styles of biology tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical

KNOCK AT THE CABIN ❤️🖤💗❤️‍🔥 Eddie Munson x fem!reader Post-S4, Upside Down exists. After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But how much has he changed?

DAMSELS & DEBAUCHERY: The D&D Chronicles Game 1: Start Something 💗❤️❤️‍🔥 DM!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

GOOD THINGS (Come in Threes) 💗❤️❤️‍🔥 Steddie x older!fem!reader Moving to a new town was hard, but some of your son’s new friends make the transition easier

HELLO, STRANGER/HEY, BOSS 💗❤️🖤 Eddie Munson x gn!reader Black comedy/dark humour. A stranger buys weird stuff at odd times, and as the cashier at the local hardware store you’re not sure what to make of it. Now with a Prequel showing how Eddie fell into his new line of work

Oneshots, 5+1’s, etc. (newest first):

The Essence of You 💗❤️❤️‍🔥 Steddie; Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington 7.3k+ An argument, shared feelings and soft, slow smut

That Was You? 💗 Eddie Munson x fem! or gn!reader 1.6k A meet cute in a record store

Take Care of Me 🖤❤️💗 Eddie Munson x fem!reader 7.4k Eddie rescues you after a disastrous date REQUESTED

The Boy Is Mine, Kittie’s edition 💗❤️ Eddie Munson x fem!reader 1.6k A romantic night in at the trailer, using prop & dialogue prompts

Candyman, Candyman, Candyman 💗 Eddie Munson x fem! or gn!reader ~2.1k A Valentine’s 5+1: Five times you get to give Eddie a kiss, and one time he kisses you back

S.A.N.T.A. BABY 💗❤️‍🔥 Eddie Munson x fem!reader ~10k A festive 5+1: Five times you embarrass yourself in front of Eddie, and one time you don’t…

Leaving Hawkins? Come Again Soon! ❤️❤️‍🔥 Eddie Munson x Patrick Verona x fem!reader. Eddie and Patrick make your last night in Hawkins a memorable one (coming soon)

Ficlets, drabs, asks, headcanons (newest first):

Drummer!Eddie Munson headcanons 💗

Get Lucky 💗❤️ Corroded Coffin ficlet featuring Eddie Munson & Grant/‘unnamed freak’ 1k

A Crown For Your King 💗 Eddie Munson x gn!reader Eddie takes you on a picnic (ask)

What are those stains on Eddie’s mattress? 🤔 SFW Part 1💗 NSFW Part 2 💗❤️❤️‍🔥 (ask, headcanon)

Eddie Munson brings home a box of kittens 💗 (ask, headcanon)

‘Til Next Time ❤️❤️‍🔥 can be rockstar!Eddie Munson x fem/masc/gn!reader 0.7k. A tryst with your secret lover

Thinking About Dom!Eddie’s Thighs ❤️❤️‍🔥 Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Something To Crow About 💗❤️ Eddie Munson x gn!reader Eddie dresses as Eric Draven (With NEW accompanying art and an edit with me in!! 😍)

STEDDIE

Series:

GOOD THINGS (Come In Threes) 💗❤️❤️‍🔥 Steddie x older!fem!reader

Oneshots:

The Essence of You 💗❤️❤️‍🔥 Steddie; Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington 7.3k+ An argument, shared feelings and soft, slow smut

Ficlets/minifics (mostly <600words, newest first):

Hurt Me ❤️💔 Dress Up 💗❤️ Look At Me ❤️ Say Hello To My Little Friend 💗❤️

One Fine Day💗 A One Time Thing❤️‍🔥 I Need A Moment💗

“The Stuff”❤️‍🔥 The Counter Argument❤️‍🔥 Top & Tail💗❤️ Turning P!nk💗 Fool Me💗❤️

‘It’s My Birthday!’💗❤️ Pin Me❤️ The Edge of Insanity❤️❤️‍🔥 Fill Me (dom!Steve)❤️‍🔥

Fill Me (dom!Eddie)❤️‍🔥 Filler ❤️ Play Me💗 What’s His Name Again?💗

Find Me ❤️🖤💔 Teach Me❤️❤️‍🔥 Steve’s Keychain💗 Mud Cakes & Pancakes💗

Special Treatment v2❤️ Special Treatment v1❤️

JOSEPH QUINN

‘Til Next Time ❤️❤️‍🔥 can be Joseph Quinn x fem/masc/gn!reader 0.7k. A tryst with your secret lover

Happy Halloween, Love ❤️❤️‍🔥🖤 Joseph Quinn x fem!reader, RPF 4.4k. Joe raids the costume department at work and conspires to make this Halloween your most memorable yet

STEVE HARRINGTON

GOOD THINGS (Come In Threes) 💗❤️❤️‍🔥 Steddie x older!fem!reader

‘Til Next Time ❤️❤️‍🔥 can be celebrity!Steve Harrington or Joe Keery x fem/masc/gn!reader 0.7k. A tryst with your secret lover

Fic recs:

This is a work in progress, but here are some to start you off:

Authors and fics

Eddie fluff recs

Some of my fave authors

Non-ST writings:

If You Go Down To The Woods Today Freaky happenings in a forest featuring OC/RPG characters

BTW if you come across anything like typos, inconsistencies, broken links or whatever please let me know, I honestly will not mind! 😍🙏

I’m still fairly new, but I already understand that comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of this site. Please support each other and share the creativity! 😘