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riality-check · 1 year ago

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The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.

"You're not going."

"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"

"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."

"Steve-"

"And if you throw up in my car-"

"Oh my God-"

"I'll kill you."

Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.

"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.

He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.

"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.

"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.

"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.

He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.

(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)

"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.

"You baited me into it."

"I did no such thing."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"

Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."

"Sorry dude."

"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."

Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.

"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"

"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."

"All I'm saying-"

"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."

Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.

"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.

"Five more minutes," Anna tries.

"Nope. Clean up and roll out."

"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.

"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"

Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"

"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"

Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.

"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."

Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.

Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.

But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.

Success by all metrics, really.

Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.

They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.

He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.

The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.

At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:

Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.

-Eddie

Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-

Hang on.

He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-

No way. No way in hell.

It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-

"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.

Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.

Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.

"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."

Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.

"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."

Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.

"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"

Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.

"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."

At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.

Because what the fuck is happening right now?

His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.

Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.

Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.

When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.

"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.

"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.

The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.

And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.

Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.

Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.

Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.

He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.

Sweet Jesus.

"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"

The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.

Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.

Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"

"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"

"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.

"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."

"How do you even-"

"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"

Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.

"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."

"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."

"Well, I have it now."

"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.

"He left me his number on the seat."

"Text him."

"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."

"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."

Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."

"Have you looked at him?"

"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."

"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."

"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.

"Text-"

Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"

"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.

"I bought them."

She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."

Steve stares. She stares right back.

He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.

With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:

I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.

He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.

Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?

Part 3!!

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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months ago

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Steve arriving at a hotel for a work conference for his dad’s company. He hates it there, he’s miserable, he’s constantly trying to figure out what he actually wants to do with his life.

It’s late when he gets there and the hotel is fully booked because of a concert happening.

He gets his key card after waiting for 30 minutes to check in.

He opens the hotel room door to find it is already occupied by a guy with a whole lot of tattoos all over his very naked and still dripping from a shower body.

Obviously he panics a bit and wonders how the hell this could’ve happened and Eddie panics a little because of safety (turns out he’s the singer of the band performing the following night!)

They try to call the front desk but the line is busy and Steve already dreads having to go back and wait in the line downstairs.

Eddie offers to let him just stay and they’ll fix it in the morning.

“Plenty of room in a king for both of us.”

Which may be true, but Steve is an octopus when he shares a bed and he knows he will end up in Eddie’s space. Should he warn him? Probably. Does he? Absolutely not.

Steve rushes through a shower and hops into bed, making small talk with Eddie about his life in a band, ignores questions about what he does as much as he can because he doesn’t feel like explaining he’s just a puppet for his dad’s never ending business career.

He falls asleep listening to Eddie’s soft, deep tone.

And of course when he wakes up, he’s got his legs and arms wrapped around Eddie anywhere he can reach. His drool is drying on Eddie’s chest and he’s coming to terms with the fact that his dick was definitely pressed against Eddie’s thigh.

Eddie’s kind enough not to say anything about it, just squeezes Steve’s arm and continues petting his hair.

It’s nice, too nice.

Steve has to get up. He’s got things to do today and if he’s late, his dad will hear about it and berate him for hours.

Shit, even if he’s on time he’ll probably find some other reason to berate him for hours.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked.

“Hm? Oh. Just don’t really wanna get up.”

“Then don’t. I don’t have anywhere to be until soundcheck after lunch.”

And now Steve has no choice but to explain his job and why he’s here, how his dad is relying on him to network and find potential mergers. How he hates putting on the Harrington face to please everyone.

It’s easy to admit it to Eddie, especially with Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, holding him like he could actually protect him from anything his father tries to say to hurt him.

“You don’t like your job.”

It’s not a question.

“Does anyone really like their job?”

“I do.”

“Well, you’re a rockstar. Of course you do. But I can’t be a rockstar.”

“Maybe not. But what is your rockstar?”

Steve had never been asked that, not even by guidance counselors in high school. They all knew he’d work for his father. He got a business degree for his father. He owned more suits than sweatpants for his father.

“I…don’t know.”

“Maybe you could try figuring it out.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“No, it’s not. But you could still try.”

So Steve sent a message to his dad’s partner, let him know he was fighting food poisoning from the in-flight meal and couldn’t make it to the conference today. He watched as Eddie threw on some clothes, mussed up his hair instead of brushed it, and quickly shoved his things into his bag.

“I should get out of your hair, try to get the room thing fixed.”

Eddie looked at him, looked at the alarm clock by the bed, down at Steve’s bag.

“How many days are you packed for?”

“Uh, four, technically. Trip was supposed to be three, but I always have an extra in case there’s flight delays or-“

“Come with me.”

“To…soundcheck?”

“On tour.”

Steve was an idiot, his father made sure he knew it as often as possible. But he couldn’t just go on tour with a stranger.

Could he?

What was he really doing here?

He hated his job, hated his dad, hated not having a clear path in front of him.

And this certainly wasn’t a clear path; He barely knew this guy, and hadn’t even heard his band. But it was a trail, the start of a path that could lead him somewhere he’d actually like to be.

Maybe he could take this chance.

Robin would tell him to do it, if she weren’t in Antarctica studying penguins for three months, only able to call once a week to check in.

What would she say if she called him and he was backstage at a heavy metal concert?

She’d probably say he’s lost his damn mind, but she’d be glad he did.

“Well, I am a rockstar. I could afford to have you around.”

“I’m not sure I could really afford to when my dad fires me,” Steve sighed, reality hitting him a little too quickly.

“I’m not really willing to be, like, your kept boy or anything,” Steve felt himself flush.

“I’m not really willing to have a kept boy,” Eddie smirked, joining him on the bed again, legs crossed in front of him. “But I’d definitely be happy to have someone who can help our tour manager out. You’d be working, though the jobs kind of boring.”

“More boring than sitting in an office five days a week and meeting with old white dudes who haven’t done anything but work their lives away for 40+ years?”

“Nah, way better than that. Sometimes you’ll have to deal with Gareth’s moods, but I promise to make it worth your while.”

“How’s that?”

“I’ll leave that up to you,” Eddie very obviously checked him, eyes trailing over Steve’s bare chest. “I’m open to negotiating.”

“And if I want a kiss?”

“Then a kiss you’ll have.”

“And if I want you to fuck me?”

“Then you’ll have to sign some paperwork,” Eddie laughed. “But that can be arranged too.”

So Steve left with Eddie, four days of clothes in his bag, no idea what he’d even tell his dad or anyone else, and no clue exactly what his new job would entail.

All he knew was Eddie seemed to be made just for him, chaos and hyperactivity included, and Steve wasn’t gonna give that up now. Even if it made no sense, even if it was ridiculous to gain a new job and new rockstar boyfriend in less than 24 hours, even if his next call with Robin was a combination of her yelling about his impulsive behaviors and congratulations for finally doing something for him.

Even if he was more of a VIP groupie for the band than an employee of the tour manager.

Steve finally found something he wanted.

If he sent his dad’s calls to voicemail, that was because he was too busy walking his new path.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #drabble #modern au #rockstar eddie munson #meet cute #unrealistic timeline of falling in love #and I’m not sorry for it

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imfinereallyy · 2 years ago

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hummingbirds

Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.

“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.

Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.

“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.

“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.

“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.

Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”

Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”

Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”

Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”

“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.

“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”

“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.

He is.

“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”

Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.

“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.

“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”

Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.

“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.

“Harrington.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.

“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.

“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”

“He what?”

Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.

“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.

Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”

Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”

Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”

Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”

Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”

“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”

Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”

“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Eddie relaxes but only slightly.

“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”

“Stevie…”

Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”

“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.

“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”

Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”

“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”

It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.

“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”

Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”

“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.

“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”

Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.

It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.

Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”

Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”

Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”

Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”

Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”

“I—“

Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.

“Home?”

“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”

Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”

Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”

Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”

****

I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡

#steddie #stranger things #Steve eventually gets a hummingbird tattoo #everything I write is soft #they deserve to be soft #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #cw: implied homophobia #cw: internalized homophobia #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #robin buckley #steve x eddie #soft boys #post s4 #bisexuality awareness

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loveinhawkins · 7 months ago

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Underneath the hum of the RV, Steve asks Eddie for directions to The War Zone.

Steve does not need directions. Eddie knows this, because when he’d shown it on the map, drumming his fingers restlessly, Steve had leant over his shoulder and muttered, “Got it,” with such confidence, like he’d committed it to memory within seconds.

Eddie slides into the passenger seat anyway.

“Isn’t this kinda… stupid?” he says hesitantly, gesturing to himself and the front window. Sure, the roads are quiet now, but…

“Don’t worry, I’ll push you off if anyone gets too close,” Steve says with mock gravity.

It makes Eddie laugh. “Thanks, very gallant of you.”

He still hasn’t given a single direction.

“You’re not, by the way,” Steve says casually, as he makes another turn.

“Uh, not what?”

“Living up to a name.”

Eddie looks away. “That was a joke.”

“Right.”

“It was.”

“I know,” Steve says quietly. “Just…” He shrugs with one shoulder. “Just so you know.”

“I do,” Eddie says, clipped. Bites his tongue—hates that he gets like this whenever…

“Okay,” Steve says, still so patient; Eddie can’t understand it. “You’re not really living up to the whole freak thing either.”

Something in Eddie’s stomach relaxes: this, at least, is slightly safer territory.

“Sorry to disappoint, Steve.”

“Yeah.” Steve heaves a huge sigh like it’s an actual problem. He’s smiling through it. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re painfully normal.”

Eddie scoffs. “S’not what others would say.”

“Fuck them,” Steve says cheerfully.

Eddie doesn’t know what to say to that. Just sits in silence as they get closer and closer to The War Zone. Feels inadequate.

He wants to say something, at least—wants to speak through the nerves that keep surging back, wants to stumble through an apology, look, I’m sorry I’m such a mess when you’re so—

“Hey,” Steve says like it’s an ordinary day, like he’s asking to borrow a pencil in class. “Wanna talk when we’re not, like, terrified out of our minds?”

But you’re, Eddie starts to think.

Then he sees Steve’s hands on the wheel, gripping tight. Recalls the sharpness in his eyes as he read the map. How he said, “Got it,” like a vow.

“Please?” Eddie says. Can’t stop the word from going up in question, you can take it back, I won’t—

Steve nods.

They’re swinging into the parking lot, and instead of him pushing Eddie off the seat, it’s more of a gentle nudge.

Eddie hides round the back of the driver’s seat, one knee to his chest.

Steve catches his eye halfway out the door. He winks. “Great navigating.”

And as Eddie waits for his return, he thinks about it. All of it. Middle school and everything that came before; dropping his plate in the cafeteria and feeling all those eyes on him, the anxiety suffocating, that they could read it on his face somehow, yeah his dad’s in jail, kid’s a mess…

Maybe Eddie will tell Steve Harrington everything.

#have a tiny little RV scene rewrite #pre steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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dreamsteddie · 3 months ago

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Steve H.

Part One, Part Two

I think it would be incredibly funny to write a No-Upsidedown Au where Steve and Dustin still become unofficial brothers. Like, the kids are still getting into a ton of dangerous mischief and one way or another Dustin adopts Steve as his older brother figure and in short order Claudia takes him in as a second son.

Like maybe Steve gets his first concussion actually helping Dustin find his missing cat after Steve has been in his mentorship/brother role for a few months. How I don't know, I like to imagine it playing out like the book version of Dandelion and Geralt's meeting in The Witcher where Dustin is being chased by some bullies and just latches on to the first strong man he sees to hide behind and then BAM, bonded for life.

Anyway, Steve has been around for a little while and Claudia has met him a few times (she's not just going to let a strange older boy she's never met hang around her middle school-aged son without meeting him first) but they don't know each other too well and Steve seems very...plastic for lack of a better word when she's around. Like he doesn't want to upset her so he's always got a perfect smile and polite words ready to offer her, but he's a nice kid and way more goofy and authentic when he's hanging out with Dustin and she peeks her head into the living room.

So when he gets hurt while helping, and subsequently protecting Dustin and a couple of his friends she makes sure to stop by with cookies and a profound thank you. She asks where his parents are and who's going to make sure he wakes up every hour for the next 24 hours when he gets discharged and he says he was planning to call a cab and set some alarms because his parents aren't in town and there's no one else at the house. So Claudia pretty much just tells him he's coming home with them for the rest of the week, which turns into a full week when his parents still aren't home, and by the time he's actually ready to leave they've all grown accustomed to this new family unit.

Steve does go home at first, but he makes a lot more excuses to come over and Claudia and Dustin work overtime coming up with lame excuses as to why he should just spend the night.

"Oh Steve, it's already midnight and you're taking Dusty to school tomorrow morning anyway, why don't you just take the spare bed."

"Steve! Steve! We have to watch the next one! You said we could watch the whole series so we're not stopping until we pass out on this couch!"

"Oh, honey the snow is really coming down out there. I know you have snow tires but you really shouldn't risk it. You stay here tonight."

And Steve doesn't want to leave, not at all. He's never felt more at home than he does sitting with the Hendersons after dinner watching sitcoms or playing board games, but sometimes he doesn't have a good excuse or his parents are planning to come home for a couple of weeks so he leaves and hates every moment spent in his own house.

Until one day when he's staying the night at his parent's house while they're home for a long weekend and they have an absolute blowout of a fight. He doesn't even know why it started, just knows that everyone was already in a foul mood and none of them are the type to back down from a fight and the result is hours of screaming hurtful things at each other and his mom throwing a few slaps his way that hurt his soul more than his face and ends with his dad going upstairs and smashing his walkman and his favorite cassettes with the kitchen kettle. At which point silence descends on the Harrington house and Steve turns around and walks out the door.

It's a 20 minute walk to the Henderson home and by the time he gets there, he's numb in the heart and the hands. Dustin is already in bed and Claudia pulls him inside to warm him up and talk it out, at which point Steve curls up into her arms and cries and rages.

After that night Steve doesn't go home aside from the single trip he made to fill a bag, grab his car, and tell his parents he won't be coming back. They put up a bit of a fight but ultimately let him go with the promise that no legal action will be taken, meaning that they'll sign whatever documents he needs for school or the doctor or whatever if he faxes them to the office but he won't try for emancipation and bring all that legal drama to the forefront. Steve knows that any lawyer he could get for the case would be trounced by whoever his parents brought in, so he agrees.

And from that day on he lives with the Hendersons and becomes Claudia's second son and continues being Dustin's older brother.

(We didn't actually get to the funny part but I was on a role so if you're interested I'll be posting part two soon!)

#stranger things #dreamer speaks #steve harrington #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #cw domestic violence #pre steddie #pre Wayne x Claudia #maybe you see where this is going

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hello-sweetheart · 3 months ago

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Wouldn’t it be so fucking funny if we finally get to meet Steve’s parents in s5 and they’re like…typical suburban parents

After making them mostly monsters in fanfic like guys fffff half the time we make them emotionally abusive and/or neglectful, the other half physically, and then like if you’re on the dark web then 3% of the time they work for the lab and Steve’s like a failed number…

For like, the vibes ya know

…But then we actually meet them and it’s a pudgy office dad with glasses married to an “I can be cool >:(‘ mom.

-“Steve, I thought you said your mom doesn’t trust your dad…looks like they love each other?”

Steve: “???wym, of course they love each other. But obviously she doesn’t trust dad on trips cuz he got lost in a Texas airport once, duh.”

-“ok, what about when you said he’d kill you if he found out you drink?”

Steve: “Yeah??? I’m literally underaged and if he found out I’ve been watering down his $200 liquor he’d be so pissed 🙄”

Like, TO BE FAIR Steve’s dad telling him to get a summer job to figure out the value of money or whatever is pretty typical like baby boy didn’t work in high school 😭 and he’s like pouting and huffing about in scoops

He has a fancy car that his parents trust him to drive and take care of

And him not wanting to work for his dad is valid of him like imagine his dad is trying to be supportive like “if you ever need a job son you can come work with me :)”

and steve would hate that cuz to him it would feel like he didn’t deserve it or work for it, working for his dad feels like it means he failed to make something of himself

And like Steve’s not a bad kid, he’s a teenager who just hates his first job cuz customer service sucks, does stupid kid shit like drink and go to parties, and feels like he missed his chance to makes something of himself that he and his parents can be proud of just because he’s a little behind than the rest of his peers

I relate to that so hard

Like bro said he was having a party at his house and it was just like…4 people he invited with a six pack. No music or anything just chillin on lawn chairs and shooting the shit

Even his home is in warm colors 💀

But we love the angst 🤌 the drama 🤌 and torturing our favorite character

#Texas airports are huge #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington #I too was a teen who felt like a failure because I had everything #I had a supportive family #and I got rejected from ALL but one university #who said I needed to do a math course in summer if I accepted cuz I fucking suck at math #I felt so anger at myself and my older brother was like don’t worry about money or a job just try your best #and if it doesn’t work out we’re here :)#and it’s like I KNOW but I need to prove to myself that Im capable do it on my own #anyways #this turned into a projecting post…#my bad guys #bee speaks #steddie #harringrove #stancy #stoncy #platonic stobin

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torakowalski · 4 months ago

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Apols for the delay but Swimmer Steve is back and pretty much exactly where we last left him.

(part one | part six)

"Fuck," says Steve. "Fuck." He hasn't said much of anything else since he came out of the changing rooms, still damp and kind of stunned-looking.

"Fuck," Eddie agrees.

Steve looks at him, a smile starting to spread across his face, going on and on like it might be endless.

God, he's handsome.

God, Eddie is stupid in love with him.

"Olympics, baby!" Eddie crows. They've already hugged; Steve got a hug from everyone, as soon as he emerged. Eddie wants to hug him again, but that would probably be too much.

"Fuck," says Steve and sits down on the floor between their two beds.

Eddie shrugs to himself and sits down with him.

They've only come back to the hotel so Steve can get showered and changed before the celebration dinner that the kids have planned. Or, actually, Steve has come back to the hotel for that; thinking about it, Eddie's not sure why he came with, except that it just felt natural.

Either way, looks like they're going to take longer than expected.

"All good?" Eddie asks, just in case.

"Jesus Christ," says Steve, which is a change from fuck and laughs. He lifts his hands up to cover his face and when he lowers them again, his eyes are wet. "The Olympics, Eddie."

Eddie nods, can't do anything but smile stupidly back at him. He doesn't think he's ever seen Steve this open and relaxed and delighted. "The Olympics, Steve."

Steve rubs at his eyes with his fingertips, mostly just making his eyelashes damper and darker from his happy tears. "You know when you've wanted something your whole damn life, but you never really thought you'd get it? It feels fucking wild to get it."

Eddie thinks about his guitar, his band, how badly he wants to stand on a stage looking out at thousands of people who all want to hear what he has to sing. Then he reminds himself that this is Steve's moment.

"I bet," he says. "Congrats. You've worked damn hard and you absolutely deserve it."

Steve leans over and bumps their shoulders together. "You're coming with me, right?"

Eddie blinks. "Where?"

"... the Olympics," says Steve, like it should be obvious.

Eddie blinks some more. "Steve. Sweetheart. Steve. The Olympics are in Korea."

"Mm," Steve agrees, "but the war's over, it's totally safe there now."

Eddie loves and hates that Steve thinks that might be the only thing putting Eddie off.

Eddie stretches his legs out so they disappear under Steve's bed and hopes there's nothing really gross under there that'll stick to his jeans. "Look, the literal only reason I've been able to afford rocking up and down the country with you is government hush money and the fact you keep buying all my meals. There's no way I can stretch to plane tickets, and I'd need my own hotel room, right? 'cause you'll be living in the athletes village?"

He could have kept going, obviously he could have kept going, but he stops there because Steve is waving a hand at him.

"What? Don't say you'll pay. There's no way you have that much extra cash, either."

"Nah," Steve says, "but my dad does. And I will be fully, fully back on the credit card, after he finds out about this."

Eddie makes a face. "But we hate your dad?"

"We really do," Steve agrees, smile not even dimming. "But we love spending his money on shit he'll hate." He drops a hand to Eddie's knee, giving it a squeeze and a shake. "You'll come, right?"

"... You should take Robin," Eddie tries, one last attempt to be a good person. "Or the kids. God, the kids would shit."

Steve leaves his hand on Eddie's knee, like that's just a place where it goes now. "I'd take them all, if I could... Plus like, all their parents to keep an eye on them, but they'll all be back in school by the time the Olympics start. None of them can take like, three weeks out."

"I bet Erica could wrangle it," Eddie points out.

Steve makes a guilty face. "Love Erica, but I don't think we have the kind of relationship where we hop over to Asia, just the two of us. You know?"

Eddie wants to ask, And we do? But they do. He knows they do.

"I don't know," he says. It's a big fucking deal. He's never left the country before and he'd love to, but he really does hate Steve's dad and all he chooses to be. The idea of being beholden to him for that big a favour sits wrong in his gut, even if Mr Harrington never actually knows about it.

"Eddie," Steve says, like he's prepared to wheedle for what he wants. Then he stops, takes a breath, shakes his head. "I know it's a big ask and obviously you don't have to, if you really don't want to. I kind of just, I can't, I can't imagine doing this without you."

Eddie claps a hand to his chest. "Right in the flattery gland, Harrington."

Steve slides his hand up Eddie's leg and squeezes his thigh. Is this going to be a thing? Is Eddie going to have to get Robin to have a word with him about this soon?

"You're the whole reason I've got this far," Steve tells him, all close and sincere. "If you don't want to come, that'll suck, but it's okay. I just wanna make sure that you know I appreciate everything you've done."

Eddie knows every mole on Steve's face, but Steve's close enough now to reveal a few previously unknown freckles.

Eddie chuckles weakly. "Personal space?" he suggests.

"Overrated," Steve says and then.

And then.

And then he presses his lips carefully against Eddie's.

"What?" Eddie croaks. He can feel his breath dance off Steve's mouth.

"Thank you," Steve says and kisses him again, a little firmer, a little damper this time.

"I..." Eddie is a goddamn fucking hero because he makes himself lean back. "Don't. You can't. Don't kiss me to say thank you. That's not... Don't. Please."

He's expecting Steve to sit back, blush and apologise and explain he had to best of intentions. Instead, Steve lifts the hand not on Eddie's thigh and touches his cheek. "Can I kiss you 'cause I can't imagine not kissing you?"

The centre of Eddie's chest throbs. Even he doesn't know what that means. "You don't want to kiss me," he manages.

"Kinda really do," Steve says. "So? Can I?"

(continued here)

#stranger things #steve harrington #swimmer steve #steddie #snippets #eddie munson #olympics au

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livwritesstuff · 9 months ago

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“Steve,” Eddie mutters, “Stop it, you’re staring.”

Steve is staring, eyes fixed on a family sitting in a cluster of seats two rows ahead of them on the commuter rail — a mom and dad with three kids, the oldest no older than ten, the youngest four or five. They’re not too much older than Steve and Eddie’s own kids (who are seven, five, and two), and by the looks of the princess dresses and mouse ears and branded souvenir bags they’re also on their way home from the afternoon Disney on Ice show at the TD Garden.

“That mom,” Steve says, addressing Eddie even though his gaze doesn’t shift away from the unsuspecting targets of his relentless judginess, “is upset because her kids are whining and misbehaving, but they asked for food and she said no, and they said they were bored and she ignored them.”

In Steve’s defense (not that Eddie would actually say any of this to him; he doesn’t need the egging on), his assessment isn’t exactly incorrect. All three of those kids are either colossally melting down or just on the verge of doing so, and both of their parents are mostly ignoring them.

“God, and they’re gonna grow up learning they can’t rely on their parents for help,” Steve continues, “I just...I just don’t get why we had to go through all those evals and interviews and home visits and shit before we were deemed suitable parents when any idiot straight couple can just have a kid with no regulation whatsoever.”

“Steve,” Eddie says through gritted teeth as he glances at their own daughters to make sure they aren’t eavesdropping (they’re not – Moe and Robbie are sitting by the window and playing with the toys they’d gotten to pick out during intermission, and Hazel is halfway to asleep in Steve’s lap), “My love — little pitchers.”

Steve only shrugs, but he does drop the subject for the rest of the train ride.

The universe must hate Eddie (or love Steve) because that family gets off at the same station as them. Hazel is completely sacked out by then, and Steve had taken her while Eddie manned the older two and they’re busy running ahead of him to the car so there’s literally nothing he can do when Steve detours away from them to follow a few yards behind the other family.

When he finally makes his way back over to them, it’s with a gleeful grin on his face.

“I knew it.” Steve says with a gleeful grin, “I knew they had to be shitty parents.”

Eddie eyebrows flew up, because – seriously, the fucking audacity on this guy.

“You know what I always say – you can either be a good parent or have a clean car, and that car was fucking spotless.”

“Steve Harrington.”

#all eddie had wanted to talk about was how they manage to turn the ice rink into a basketball court #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie dads #judgy steve my beloved #<- new tag let's party

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lexirosewrites · 9 days ago

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okay i know it's almost 7pm but i JUST had a thought for slick sunday and this took me over 20 minutes to type out but here i am. my brain automatically went for omega!steve alpha!eddie BUT it could be viewed the opposite way too, just swap a few things in your own brain.

thinking of steve and eddie mating young (late teens/early 20s, maybe they were high school sweethearts, maybe not, up to your discretion). steve wants a big family and eddie is more than happy to be along for the ride. he loves kids, and he wants his family to be different from how he grew up.

anyway i'm imaging them having kids relatively close together. like a year or two between each kid, but no more than two years. in this thought, specifically, they have 5, with their oldest being freshly 7 and their youngest being about 1 1/2. and they have a 6th baby on the way.

people are super judgy. steve gets COUNTLESS comments throughout this pregnancy about how 6 kids is a lot, and they're all so close in age, and oh, he looks ready to pop any day now his belly is so big, and why do they want so many kids? (actual comments people have made to a coworker/friend of mine who is getting ready to have her 4th + 1 bonus child from her partner's previous relationship). steve tries to keep a brave face and not let it get to him, but a person can only take so much.

one night, after a very chaotic day, the pups have all been put to bed. steve and eddie are curled up on the couch together, and steve is feeling so overwhelmed by all of it. he starts to think maybe everyone else was right. he was in way over his head. he doesn't even think before the words are coming out of his mouth.

"do you think we're making a mistake?" he asks quietly.

eddie frowns and looks down at him. "what do you mean?"

"this. all of it. having another baby. do you think it's a mistake?"

eddie is VERY quick to counter that and reassure steve that it is NOT a mistake. he is so grateful for their big family, no matter how stressful and exhausting some days can be. he wouldn't trade their pups for ANYTHING, and he NEEDS steve to know that. their family is the best thing to ever happen to eddie, he LOVES being a dad, and he LOVES creating a real home with steve.

eddie does everything in his power to make sure steve knows he doesn't give a single fuck what anyone else has to say about their family bc it's THEIR family. they can have however many kids they want, and those kids will be smothered in love bc that's the kind of home the two of them have been building from the moment they met each other. their pups will never EVER know what it's like not to be loved.

it does help reassure steve, and eventually, after pup number 6 finally joins the family, he never worries about what other people have to say ever again. bc it doesn't matter. he loves their family, eddie loves their family, their pups are so so loved, and that's all that really matters.

(i may or may not be writing a little one shot based on this idea that may eventually develop into a whole universe at this rate)

the good news is that I’m still awake and doing lesson plans for class this week, so we can enjoy this without waiting a week😉

oh i’m sure people would make nasty comments about them because there’s nothing people hate more than a happy family they’re not in😤 as long as steve and eddie are happy and their pups are loved and cared for!!!

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #my asks

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bigdumbbambieyes · 3 months ago

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Billy’s been watching his boyfriend wear himself thin all week.

Hell, maybe even longer than that. Two or three weeks — a month, at most.

And it’s not like he’s a piece of shit boyfriend that doesn’t try to help, it’s that his stubborn as fuck boyfriend won’t let him.

Steve’s always carried his pride everywhere he went, even now. He’s swamped at work and hates it, he’s getting calls from the Hawkins brats every other night with questions about college or whatever else is going on in their lives, his parents are trying to buy property in San Diego so he’s going to look at houses when he can, he’s trying to spend time with Billy…

It’s just a lot at once.

And Steve won’t let Billy take anything off his overflowing plate for him.

So, Billy backs off, but does what he can. He cooks meals for them that’ll keep Steve going, he kisses him every chance he gets and mumbles quiet praise into Steve’s shoulder when they hug, he drives the pretty boy around to the viewings and whatever appointments he has.

He can see the dark circles under his boyfriend’s eyes now. How the light has dulled a little in his coffee bean eyes.

It’s infuriating and sad. Billy doesn’t understand why Steve can’t just fucking sit down for an afternoon and do nothing.

It’s late when Steve finally comes home, toeing his shoes off and complaining about what a dump the latest house was, how his mom would never approve of the flooring and that his dad would hate the landscaping. Billy just nodded along and lead Steve into the bathroom with him, starting up the shower.

The day washed off and comfy clothes on, they slip into bed and Steve rolls over onto his side away from Billy, expectant.

It’s cute. Billy fits himself in right behind Steve, his chest to his back, and their hands meet over Steve’s chest, their fingers interlocking.

They whisper ‘goodnight’ and Billy closes his eyes as he falls asleep to the scent of Steve’s shampoo.

But, he doesn’t stay asleep for too long.

He feels the sniffle before actually hearing it, Steve’s chest expanding with a stutter, the rain pattering against their bedroom window covering up the soft sounds of his boyfriend’s crying.

“Stevie?” Billy whispers, his voice thick from sleep as he blinks his eyes open, glancing at the clock and noting that it’s only been an hour.

“Oh—m’sorry,” Steve sniffles, glancing over his shoulder, and even in the dark of the room he can see his boyfriend’s tear-soaked eyelashes.

“Sorry? Why’re you sorry?” Billy murmurs, pulling him back into his chest, propping himself up a little so he can look down at Steve. He can’t help but to lean in and press his nose to his love’s cheek, feeling how hot it is, as they usually get whenever Steve finally musters up the energy to cry.

He’s like his mother that way. Things have to pile up before he lets himself cry it all out.

Steve doesn’t answer, just stares up at Billy with a crushed expression, his lip pouting and brows furrowed as he fights back the new tears wobbling in his eyes.

He makes this soft little pathetic sound in the back of his throat and Billy can’t help the little cooing sound he makes in return, pressing a couple kisses to Steve’s cheek before he murmurs, “C’mere.”

And Steve turns to face him instantly, cuddling into Billy’s chest and letting himself cry again, his body wracking with sobs as Billy rubs up and down his boyfriend’s back with a small, sad smile.

“What’s wrong?” Billy asks after a couple minutes, even though he already knows.

“I-I can’t sleep,” Steve sniffles again, “And my fucking shoulders hurts, like, I can’t get comfy, and work sucks and this entire…stupid thing with my parents is annoying but I wanna help them out, and the kids keep calling but they never did before so I wanna keep that connection but it’s all the time now—and I’m so tired…”

New tears come then, another wave, and Billy pets his hand through Steve’s dark hair, kissing his forehead and sliding his hand down to wipe away his tears, mumbling, “You’re always overworking yourself, baby, you gotta take a break…”

“But I don’t know how,” Steve half whines, because he always gets whiny when he cries. Billy hates that he thinks it’s cute.

“Well, we’ll figure that out together, yeah?” Billy hums, because honestly even he doesn’t fully know how to relax or take a break, but they’ve always made a great team.

“Yeah,” Steve mumbles, like he believes it, before reaching up to wipe at his wet face and he gives that awkward little laugh he always does after he cries, saying again, “Sorry.”

“Don’t gotta apologize for nothing, princess,” Billy smiles sleepily once their eyes meet, “I got you.”

Steve’s smile softens into something more genuine and he shifts closer again to press a kiss to Billy’s lips, mumbling instead, “Thank you…”

“Mm, much better,” Billy smiles against Steve’s mouth, happy to hear the soft laugh his boyfriend makes into the quiet darkness of their bedroom, the sound of the rain outside still going strong.

The next morning, Billy wakes up early. Too early. It’s so early he could go back to bed.

But, before he does that, he gets up and walks to the living room, where he unplugs the cord from the back of their phone.

Satisfied, he crawls back into bed and curls up against Steve’s side, listening to the sleepy sounds his boyfriend makes as he gets his much-deserved sleep in.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #hurt/comfort #it’s been a while hope yall haven’t forgotten about me!! hehe #idk something about steve breaking down in the middle of the night and being a pathetic little baby about it #billy would adore it i think #bambiwrites

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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months ago

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On school picture day, Steve always gets the kids ready. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t want to, it’s that he kind of hates making them dress up for a photo when 99% of the time, they’re just kids.

Except Steve had to go to a training conference for guidance counselors this week and picture day is happening whether they like it or not.

Their oldest, Jules, can do everything herself now. Prefers it, actually. She’s been extremely independent since she turned 10 a few months ago and neither of them try to stop her.

But their twins are only six, and James and Connor are like tornadoes who interrupted a category five hurricane and wore their most stained clothes while doing it.

“Let’s at least brush your hair,” Eddie suggested, already mentally preparing for the arguments that would cause. “Just for the picture and then you can mess it up however you want.”

“But daddy lets us wear it crazy!” Connor lies.

“And he lets us take off our shirts!” James lied even more.

“You guys don’t even know how to lie right,” Jules said as she finished braiding her own hair.

“We don’t lie!” They said in unison.

Eddie used to think the twins talking and doing things at the same time was just coincidence, but now he knows it has to be some kind of evolutionary benefit to outsmart the parents.

“Let’s call daddy then and ask,” Eddie said, immediately being met with silence. “Oh, can we not? If he lets you do that stuff, then it shouldn’t be a problem right?”

The twins shake their heads.

“Great!” Eddie pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and pretends to dial Steve. Steve’s not gonna answer, so he just sends a quick text to let him know it’s fine and to let it ring to voicemail. He holds the phone up to his ear as it rings twice and then goes to voicemail. “Hey sweetheart. You know how it’s picture day? Mhm. Well the twins told me you usually let them just go without brushing their hair or even wearing a shirt! I thought that sounded silly. So you don’t?”

“Wait! Okay we lied a little!” Connor yelled, suddenly panicking at being caught.

“And maybe a lot!” James added, already trying to climb Eddie’s side so he could reach for the phone.

“I’ll go get them ready, love you, bye!” Eddie rushed out and hung up so he could hold James safely. “I think you think I’m a fool.”

“No dad, you just let us be crazy,” James said.

“So does your daddy. Just not on picture day. You know the rules. We do this for him, right? We get nice and handsome and we smile for the camera so we can hang the pictures on the fridge.” Eddie glanced at last year’s school photos, resisting the urge to cry at how big they’d all gotten so quickly. James was missing three teeth now, Connor seemingly lost a ton of his baby fat early, and Jules had started wearing earrings. “He likes seeing your faces on the fridge.”

“But can’t we just wear our regular clothes?” Connor begged from his other side.

Eddie looked down at what they were wearing. It wasn’t that bad. No stains, at least. And no holes. That was rare for them.

“You can wear these clothes if you let me make your hair look nice,” Eddie bargained.

“Daddy’s gonna kill you,” Jules said with her arms crossed.

“He loves me too much. Plus who else would do the dishes every night? He can’t kill me!” Eddie joked, tickling James before setting him down on the floor. “To the bathroom, my princes! Make haste!”

They ran for the bathroom quickly, nearly tripping over each other in the process.

Eddie’s phone vibrated in his hand with a text from Steve that just said ‘if they don’t brush their hair for pictures, Santa won’t come.’

Eddie texted back quickly: so cruel. as his most sexiest elf, I wouldn’t pass over their house.

Steve sent a ‘🙄’ and then a ‘😘’.

Eddie pocketed his phone and went to help the boys with their hair.

When they got the pictures back a month later, Steve shook his head, but couldn’t quite hide the fond smile.

James and Connor both forgot to give normal smiles into the camera.

But their hair looked almost perfect.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #drabble #steddie dads

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luveline · 1 year ago

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jadey would you please mind giving us more of kbd!steve this season? xxxx

kbd dad!steve and mom!reader fight over christmas pyjamas, 1.4k

“I don't know what you want me to say.”

Steve frowns deeply at you. Another haircut, another day more handsome than before, he pulls off everything, but not…

“Say you like them,” he demands, hooking his thumbs in his pyjama top and pulling it outwards to properly show you the front.

Steve is wearing Christmas pyjamas. The Grinch from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas in all his scrooge glory grins at you evilly against a red background. The pants are white, patterned by red and green drawings of the Grinch holding a Christmas present. He looks much happier from your husband's thighs than the long sleeved shirt.

“Babe, they have cuffs. We're gonna be warm all day,” he says.

“They don't match,” you say, pointing to the Grinch on his leg, who holds a pink gift wrapped in yellow ribbon. “Maybe it's the pink and red throwing me off.”

His frown turns to a pout, the almond shape of his warm brown eyes at a downturn as he says, “You really don't like them.”

You crack like a weak walled chestnut over a flame. “I'm kidding! I'm just messing with you, baby, I love them. They're so Christmas-sy. Did you get some for me?”

His relief is palpable. “I got some for everyone.”

Steve got matching pyjamas for himself, you, the kids, and Robin. He shows you them from a bag on the kitchen table, where you ooh and aah reluctantly. You love him, love everything he does, but you're finally on your holidays vacation and you'd wanted to spend as much of it sitting down as possible. Not that sitting down is possible at home, but you digress.

Steve senses your reluctance with a grumble pressed into the back of your neck, his arms grabbing you from behind. “Alright, I get it! You hate me and your kids and you hate Christmas most of all, whatever. I should've married Tammy Thompson.”

You laugh and lean forward over his arms. “Tammy Thompson wouldn't have wanted a thing to do with you, H, on account of you being a cruel, know-it-all narcissist who forces his exhausted wife off of the couch at every opportunity he–”

“Alright, that's enough.”

Steve squeezes you until you're pleading with him to let you go, a riot of giggles forced from your lungs as he digs his hands into your sides, his fingers practically drilled into your ribs. You call for mercy and he ignores it, muttering about narcissism in your ear. He laughs as you laugh, can't keep up the act.

“Beg for me to stop,” he says.

“Stop!” you say, trying to pull his arms off of your stomach. “Steve, stop it!”

“Say you'll wear the pyjamas.”

“Steve! I'll wear them! Would you–”

“Get off of her!” Bethie shouts, barrelling into the room to push at her dad's legs.

It's so unlike Beth to shout that you both immediately stop fighting. For a split second, you think she's worried that Steve was actually hurting you, but then she laughs as she punches him in the thigh and sticks herself between your breathless bodies, two small arms extended to keep you apart.

When she's sure Steve is done, she wraps her arms around you, looking up into your face with a big smile. “Saved you, mom.”

“You saved me,” you agree, bending down to hug her, “thank you, sweetheart, thank you.” You drop tens of kisses into her hair and face, so many that Steve makes a show of huffing.

“Beth, she deserved it,” he says. “She doesn't wanna wear our matching jammies. Don't you wanna do that?”

She looks at him with those big sorry eyes only young children can master. “Yeah, dad, but…”

“But what?”

“But she's my mom.”

You pull one of the kitchen chairs out and sit down, patting your lap for her to climb up and sit with you. “But I'm her mom,” you sing-song, ever so slightly smug.

“And I'm, what? Cat food?”

“Don't listen to him, baby, he's just jealous.”

Steve turns away from you both, showfully miffed. Bethie giggles and turns into your chest. “He's mad,” she laughs.

“So mad.” You drop your nose into the side of her cheek.

“Are we still having a treat tonight?” she asks.

“Of course we are. It's Christmas! Mom's home, daddy's catching up on his sleep, we're all having cake and ice cream and chocolates until we can't eat anymore,” you promise.

“Wish you were home all the time.”

“Me too, baby,” you say, rubbing her cheek with the tip of your nose slowly. “I wish you could come to work with me. That would be so fun. But we have to make the most of our time away, yeah? Let's have lots and lots of fun.”

“I saved you,” she says, “so maybe I can have extra cake.”

“Beth. You can have as much as you want tonight, I promise.”

“I love Christmas,” she decides.

Steve rushes back into the kitchen with a child under each arm. Dove laughs, her eyes practically sparkling, not a care in the world though she's upside down, and Avery clings to Steve's waist, shouting, “Dad, put me down!” through nervous giggles.

“Tell mom what I told you,” he says.

“Dad, I'm slipping!”

“Avery, you're not slipping. I'm frankly insulted that you think I would drop you. Now tell your mother what we said.”

“Daddy's not a nar-pasit!” Dove says joyfully. “He's a sweetheart.”

“He's a huge narcissist,” you correct in a similar tone.

“He's dropping me!” Avery cries.

Steve shakes her until she screams. “I am not! For Christ's sake, I can curl you like two pound weight, you delinquent! Now.” He takes a deep, fake breath, pulling the two girls higher into his armpits. “Like we rehearsed.”

“I did my turn,” Dove says, reaching out for you, her smile hard to miss even if she is upside down..

“Dad didn't even want to marry that lady,” Avery says, her eyes squeezed closed. Steve chuckles and kisses her head, amused by her silly worry. “He's only ever wanted to be in love with you. And to drop me.”

Steve chokes he laughs so hard, leaning forward and depositing the eldest girl onto two steady feet. “Perfect as always, Ave. And you!” He twists into a shape, Dove's head getting closer and closer to the floor. She couldn't be happier, giggling like she's been tickled the whole while. “You did perfect too, honey.”

“I didn't even bring up that lady,” you say.

Steve and Dove return back to the right way round after some careful manoeuvring. “My bad. Babe. Y/N. I'm sorry, okay? I'm a loser and–” He nudges Dove aside gently to take your hands, your knees, ignoring Beth where she's in the way to kneel in front of you. “I just need you to want to wear these pyjamas as bad as I want you to. So pull it together.”

You put your lips to the shell of Beth's ear. “Should we forgive him?”

“Mmm…” Beth points at Avery. “He has to say sorry for almost dropping Avey.”

“Right.” You nod sagely.

Steve turns to Avery with wide eyes, “You're not actually upset, are you?” he asks, putting out his hand to her.

“My brains are like cranberry sauce,” she says.

He raises his eyebrows, delighted. “Yeah? The thick one from the can?”

Dove climbs under his arm. He pulls her in for a cuddle unthinkingly, but just as quickly she's ducking away from him to walk up to Avery, reaching for her face. Avery leans down obligingly.

Dove pokes her forehead.

“I'm not really jelly!” Avery says, giggling.

“Well, I'm sorry if I scared you almost dropping you,” Steve says, holding his hands together, brown eyes like melting sugar in his pleading. “Can you please forgive me, so mommy will forgive me, and we can put on our new jammies?”

Avery isn't stubborn. “Yeh, okay. I'll forgive you.”

He smiles, turning to you now for the final verdict.

“I already said I'd wear them, Steve,” you say with a grin.

“Oh. Good. Alright.” He climbs to his feet, split from cheek to cheek. “I'm gonna go get the baby. Aw, shit, and the camera. Practise your poses until I come back, angels!”

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dallasgallant · 2 months ago

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Halloween headcanons

Talked about 1960s Halloween [Here] and think I may do it for future holidays as they pop up! But I also thought I’d do some actual headcanons, maybe drawings if I think of some later on

Dallas, Two-bit, Steve and Soda all really like the ‘trick’ part of the night, sometimes they can rope Johnny or the others into it. Pony’s got a weak throwing arm though… (egging, toilet paper, the works.)

For when they trick or treated going over to the west/south side of town would be the equivalent of a “King sized” neighborhood (this was before there were too many mini bars of candy, it was practically all full size and homemade treats)

Johnny loves popcorn balls the best. You hear a sickening crunch… it’s not a spooky sounds record it’s him.

Mrs. Curtis would always have them take costume lineup photos as kids at least once. Dally has always been a victim of Red eye photos (except for the few years he was gone to New York) as they got older it turned into more candid photos of the boys sprawled across the living room or porch.

As he’s gotten older Pony stays back to hand out stuff rather than collect it on his own, thinking he’s too tuff™️ — he is however working on his Halloween gore makeup. Goal is to scare children.

Their dad was the type to sit in a lawn chair at the end of the drive (in this case on the sidewalk) with a few buddy’s and tell stories and pass out candy. -> Darry now does this tradition if he doesn’t have a friend call him up to go out.

Soda likes candy corn. Like really likes it- all of the brothers do and it baffles the rest of the gang. However, Steve likes wax candy so he can’t talk.

Pumpkin carving always ends up in flinging the guts everywhere and a chorus of ‘aw my hair!’ You’d think they’d learn by now. They don’t.

Pony and Steve get particularly fussy about their hair but then you also get pumpkin seeds and decorations out of it so maybe it’s ok.

Dally can carve the best jack o’ lantern though.

Two-bit crashed a soc costume party once for three hours without getting noticed.

By the end of the night the rest of the gang will show up at the Curtis door (usually blitzed) and they all swap treats… that they got through reputable means… and watch whatever horror marathon is on before the tv ends for the night (24 hour tv is very very new)

Pony has a love hate relationship with Horror movies

Johnny however is utterly fine with gore and does better than Pony, who will sometimes gag at his own makeup. He’s very “Aw that’s gross… cool.”

Soda and Steve also go to parties a lot, sometimes the others will join them other times they’re too busy causing chaos.

Cherry, Bob, Marcia and Randy always do coordinated and planned group costumes that usually win then attention or a contest or two. They go to the more traditional teen Halloween parties

#the outsiders #outsiders #outsiders headcanons #halloween headcanons #Curtis gang #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #steve randle #twobit mathews #dallas winston #johnny cade

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