#dad! steddie

[judasofsuburbia]

writing a new easy chapter and thinking about steddie’s teenage daughter going through a one direction phase. sees the WMYB music video one day on tv and becomes completely enthralled.

her dads, ever supportive of her interests, try to listen to them too. watch their music videos on the computer after she goes to sleep.

steve thinks they’re charming and fun. eddie feels a migraine coming on.

“aw c’mon eds, they’re cute!” steve says. “it’s like her nsync!”

“yeah and it was painful enough to go through that with you,” eddie retorts.

steve gives him a look. “just…be nice, okay?”

eddie grimaces at the computer screen. he was more so hoping his daughter would have a metal phase. or hell, he'd even take a goth phase. he sighs and mumbles, “alright, alright.”

now eddie’s perfectly content to have one direction be something their daughter shares with steve. even if their first album plays so much in their house that eddie catches himself humming it sometimes and groans petulantly. privately, of course.

yes, eddie’s content with not being into them until steve and their daughter get tickets to their show and steve gets the flu the night before. eddie is calling everyone: robin, nancy, max, lucas, dustin, hell even HOPPER but no one’s available to chaperone her. so he tells her that he’ll go to the concert. out of pure love.

the arena is a bloodbath. eddie's been to metal shows his entire life but he's never seen anything like this. he's making panicked eye contact to any other dad he sees and they all kind of shrug. a "well, what are you gonna do?" he's never feared for his life more. his daughter is over the moon though and that’s what matters.

the light dim and the boys take the stage. his daughter is gripping the seat in front of her, jumping up and down, screeching at the top of her lungs. eddie sits back and takes a long sip of his beer.

it's gonna be a long night.

but it wasn't a long night. the boys put on an incredible show and eddie finds himself amazed by their showmanship and charisma. they cover wheatus' teenage dirtbag and eddie's suddenly standing, shouting the lyrics along with them.

his daughter's favorite is louis (sometimes niall on a rogue day). he's finding his favorite is zayn. something about his bad boy rebel persona reminds him of himself at that age. but like, the fabricated teeny bopper celebrity version.

yeah, okay, he does know the lyrics to WMYB and yeah, okay, he does hold his daughter's hands and belts the lyrics out with her. he holds her as she cries when the boys leave the stage, shushing her gently and stroking her back. he lifts her spirits by getting them into the merch line and letting her choose whatever she wants.

somehow eddie ends up asking for two adult larges of the tour sweatshirt. his daughter squints her eyes at him but has an all knowing smile on her face.

their daughter passes out on the car ride home and eddie carries her inside. he slips her boots off and tucks her into bed. steve is awake when he enters their room. pale and sickly, but otherwise competent.

"how was it?" steve croaks.

eddie slyly hands him a sweatshirt. steve beams at him and slips it over his head. when his head pokes out the other side, he realizes that eddie has put his tour sweatshirt on. the same knowing smile that was on their daughter earlier is now on steve's face as well.

eddie clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. "do we have an extra CD i could have in my car?"

[lazylittledragon]

he's nothing if not determined

[hairmetal666]

Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.

He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.

Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.

This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.

He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.

A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.

"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.

The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.

He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.

Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.

His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--

"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.

For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.

"Why?" He snarls.

Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."

The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"

Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.

"No takesies-backsies?"

"It's yours."

The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."

The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."

"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.

---

13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.

It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.

In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.

He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--

"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"

Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--

"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."

"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.

"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."

His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.

Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."

"And now?"

Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."

And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."

He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.

"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.

"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."

"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.

They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.

From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.

"So, marriage...that still off the table?"

Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."

[little-annie]

Eddie, holding thier baby in the air like Mufasta with Simba: "Say Demo-gor-gan, Sweetie. Demo-gor-gan."

Baby: (blows raspberry in Eddie face, covering him in spittle)

Eddie: "Demo-gor-gan."

Steve, affectionately: "You're not teaching our daughter to say Demogorgan, at least not for her first word. Here, give her to me."

Baby: (Squeals happy while being handed off to Steve.)

Steve: "Can you say Da-da, Sweet Pea? Da-da."

Eddie, watching fondly at Steve's side: "You can call him Ma-ma too, Baby."

Steve: "Eddie shut up, you're just about as annoying with that mother Steve shit as Dustin is."

Baby: (Babbling happily, legs kicking while she's still held in the air)

Baby: "Dust-bin!"

Steve and Eddie: (Every ounce shocked and in denial exchange a look of panic) "Demo-gor-gan, Sweetie" "Da-da, Elsie Baby, Da-da"

Baby: "Dust-bin!"

Steve: "We're not telling him. As far as any one knows she hasn't said her first word yet."

Eddie, under his breath: "Fucking Dustin."

Baby: "Fuck-in' Dust-bin!"

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie walks into the kitchen one evening to find Steve supervising their daughters as they work on homework.

Steve’s attention is on Robbie at the moment, and he’s got his hands on his hips as he looks over her shoulder with a questioning look on his face.

This in and of itself isn’t anything unusual, because Robbie’s their kid who tries to get out of homework most often, so it takes a second for Eddie to realize that what Steve is doing is trying to encourage Robbie to do less on an assignment.

Steve: Hon, I really think you just needed to fill out the footprint calculator thing.

Robbie: I’m going above and beyond, Pop.

Eddie: What about just doing the bare minimum with this and all your other homework and then see how you feel?

Robbie: No.

Robbie: I have a vendetta.

Eddie: Okay, against who?

Robbie: Ethan Miller. He wouldn’t shut up about how his family’s gonna have the lowest carbon footprint out of the entire class because his house has solar panels.

Robbie: I wanna prove that we have the lowest.

Steve: Why do you think we have a lower carbon footprint than the Millers?

Robbie: Because you adopted us.

Robbie: So there’s, like, no additional carbon emissions of entire new people.

Robbie: You reduced and reused.

Robbie: I don’t think it could count as recycling.

Steve:

Steve:

Steve, pulling out his laptop: Okay, let’s look into this because Ethan’s mom is really effing annoying about those solar panels and I’d love to be able to one-up her for once.

Eddie: Oh, god.

[kennahjune]

Teen Dad

Quite surprised there’s not a lot of these AUs considering how much Steve apparently sleeps around but anywho.

Teen Dad Steve who finds out one of the girls he’d slept with pre-Nancy is pregnant and he damn well intends on helping out however he can.

Turns out; helping means taking his son (his SON) and having full custody because the mom, no matter how much she wants to be involved, can’t take care of him.

Steve’s alright for the first 6 months of little Louie Harrington’s life.

But then his parents come home and shit hits the fan.

Which— fair enough. He was only 17 and already had a whole ass son, they were gonna freak out.

But kicking him AND aforementioned son out? With no where to go? No money? Barely a job?

That’s just fucked up.

But Steve makes do, and lives out of his car for no more than a month before finally landing his hands on a cheap trailer in Forest Hills.

He and Louie move in and sure, it’s rough. But he’s got a nice paying job at the Diner and yeah maybe he has to skip some classes to get extra money but it’s fine. It pays his bills and rent and that’s all that really matters.

It’s fine.

And then the second wave of Upside Down fuckery hits, and Steve’s suddenly in the hospital with a grade 4 concussion (whatever that means) and his top priority is to make sure someone is with Louie.

Enter Claudia Henderson, Dustin’s mom.

She takes care of Louie for as long as Steve is in the hospital and then some when Steve can’t be left unsupervised in case his head worsens.

And that’s how the Party is introduced to little Louie (as they all call him).

Steve’s stunned to find out that Mike and Lucas are so good with little kids, but the two of them love stopping by the Henderson’s (and later on the trailer) to see little Louie and offer to babysit for him whenever.

The other kids take a little bit of time to warm up to Louie (and the fact that Steve’s actually a parent) but when they do Steve never ceases to have at least one of them over.

And with all the racket brings in the attention of nosy neighbors.

Steve is well accustomed to nosy neighbors. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln next door to his parents were always looking to snitch on him for something or other.

But Miss Bottomette and her grandchildren Noah and Casey were sweethearts. Steve didn’t mind having them over for dinner or going over there. Miss Bottomette was the one to teach him how to actually put his cooking skills to work.

Linda and Tom, a newly married couple down the road, were quite eccentric but that’s what made them charming. Steve found their dog, Dasher, quite the sweetheart.

And even Mr. Knowles, the grouchy old man next door to Miss Bottomette, seemed to take a liking to Steve and Louie.

It wasn’t long before the story behind the new boy in 2718 New Bird Ave was revealed: Teen Dad Kicked Out.

Then the whole town knew. And while most people were nice about it, even supportive of how he had taken a step into his child’s life, there were always those people who sneered.

Steve ignored them, loving the life he was working on making for himself and Louie in the trailer park.

The only neighbors he never seemed to meet, despite the looming presence, were the Munsons, right across the street.

Steve knew about the Munsons. Well��� he knew about Eddie Munson; drug dealer who was on his second run of senior year. Steve actually shared a few classes with him.

He’d yet to meet the mysterious Wayne Munson, but that was to be expected with work schedules.

And then Steve was graduating, and his parents didn’t show up.

But that was totally fine. Cause the kids, Claudia, Joyce— even Hopper with El— were there. They held up little baby Louie while Steve walked the stage.

He’d heard rumors of Eddie Munson having to retake senior year for a third time— but he didn’t dwell on it for too long. Because sure, he missed more than his fair share of classes and scraped by with a C+ average.

But he did it.

And then summer hit, Dustin left for camp, and the mall opened up.

Steve picked up a job at Scoops Ahoy, cutting back on his hours at the Diner but still staying there because the money was needed and the tips were lovely.

And he meets Robin Buckley, and actually talks to Eddie Munson every once in a while when he stops in with his band, and lets the kids sneak into the movies because he’ll be damned if he robs them of a normal summer.

And then Dustin comes back and their reunion is short-lived because Russians are hellbent on torching non-existent information out of Steve and he’s busy getting his third concussion and then there’s a fucking flesh monster and Billy and Hopper for protecting them and—

It’s not a good night.

But then he’s rushed to the hospital and he tries to call Miss Bottomette only for the call to refuse to go through and shitfuckgoddammit.

Because what about Louie?

Miss Bottomette said she’d be alright watching Louie until Steve got home, but Steve wasn’t able to go home until someone was able to make time to take him home.

Usually, he’d lean on Hopper for this stuff, since his parents were out of the question. But—

But Hoppers dead.

So he’s stuck at the hospital for another day or two until finally, Claudia comes to pick him up.

He’s with Dustin in the backseat of the car, anxiously bouncing his leg and biting at his fingers and nails until Dustin gives in and just holds his hand. Robin’s there to, having been able to leave after the first night but coming with Claudia to pick him up. Steve’s relieved to have them both close by, even if his hands reach for Erica subconsciously.

His trailer’s empty when he gets home, and Miss Bottomette isn’t answering the door.

Steve’s on the brink of a full blown breakdown before Mr. Knowles— bless his heart— points them across the street.

The Munsons apparently have his son and have for a bit now since Miss Bottomette had a minor seizure and couldn’t be left alone with Louie. Mr. Knowles assured Steve that she and the kids were fine and staying with him for the moment.

Steve wasted no time afterwards sprinting to the Munsons and knocking on the door. Dustin and Robin are close behind him, Claudia waiting patiently in the driveway.

The door is answered by a gruff looking old man that’s taller than Dustin but slightly shorter than both Robin and Steve.

“You Harrington?”

Steve nods so fast he faintly wonders if that’s how bobble heads feels.

They’re let in in no time and the old man— the infamous Wayne Munson— calls out of Eddie.

Eddie Munson emerges a moment later with little Louie in his arms, bouncing softly on his feet to keep the baby calm.

Steve is in front of him in a second, scooping Louie gently out of his arms and into his own.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Dustin’s rubbing his arms and Robin his back. Claudia is talking to Wayne, explaining what had happened (or the cover story version at least) and Eddie is hanging back a few feet from the three of them.

Robin takes little Louie in her arms and shoos Steve to the couch to calm down.

“Let him meet his auntie, Steve. You take a minute to breathe now, yeah?”

Steve was led to the couch with a soft hand on his shoulder from Eddie Munson, and they sat side by side while Steve worked on easing his breathing and to stop fucking crying.

Eddie’s shushing him and after a moment (and a clearly pointed cleared throat from Robin) Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s shaking figure.

They leave the Munsons’ trailer is promises of new babysitters and a new friendship.

And then the fuckery that’s 1986 happens.

.

First Part:

[whathehonestfuk]

Steddie s first kid is a boy, they're out with him and he starts having a meltdown/throwing a tantrum as kids do and some mom with a couple kids in tow come up and makes some comment about 'dad babysitting' completely ignoring the other one and starts trying to help calm the kid down by telling him things like 'big boys don't cry'

They're both like fuck all the way off with that shit he's a kid and a person he's allowed emotions and express them

[keynb]

ST kids babysitting Steve and Eddie's baby🍼

Aka Steve's revenge lol

[riality-check]

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!!

[maikaartwork]

Riot is jumping onto the boop train.

[xoxoladyaz]

Famous musician with three daughters under the age of seven Eddie Munson hears that they’re making a Barbie movie and offers/peer pressures his agent to get him presented to the production team as a potential songwriter for the soundtrack. He meets with the team, and eventually the cast, and they all hit it off, and he writes and plays on the eventually award-winning song “I’m Just Ken.”

When he gets asked about whether or not it was hard to write this song, especially since it’s so different from Corroded Coffin’s usual output, he always laughs and says it was easy because he’s got a hell of a Barbie at home that he lives to worship.

(Which the internet finds hilarious because his Barbie is certified Normal Guy and Hot Dad Steve Harrington.)

[hotluncheddie]

For the @steddie-spooktober day 16 prompt : ‘Would you please stop trying to scare them?’

rated: G | cw: none | tags: kids Eddie and Steve, Wayne Munson

🐉 🐉🐉🐉

‘Eddie, kid, calm down.’ Wayne says calmly with his hands on Eddie’s shoulders.

He has to try something, that’s the fourth kid Eddie sent running screaming. Each time was after he showed off his dragon roar, mouth wide open through the face hole of his cardboard headpiece.

‘Would you please stop trying to scare them? Or, just, not so hard yeah?’ Wayne takes Eddie’s hand. The boy skipping unawares next to him down the street.

Wayne chuckles to himself, his nephew might be a handful but the kid is just too damn cute to not get away with it.

‘Oh! I’ve seen you!’ Eddie shouts, pulling away from Wayne and sprinting up to a boy sitting alone on the curb. He’s dressed like a mummy, sort of, wrapped up in toilet paper and with what looks like lipstick dotted around his face.

‘In the woods! We played castle remember?’ Eddie says to the boy loudly.

The kid looks startled, eyes flicking from Wayne to Eddie and back again.

‘Stevie? This is m’uncle Wayne.’ Eddie says sitting down beside the boy and finally lowering his voice.

The boy looks up at Wayne one last time before turning fully to Eddie. Lip trembling and eyes going all big. ‘I, I dunno where Sarah went Eddie! M I, M’scared!’ He wails, scooting forward as Eddie’s little arms come around him.

‘Who’s Sarah son?’ Wayne asks, crouching by the two boys and pulling out a hanky.

‘M’babysitter, but she just went away!’ Steve cries, still distressed and Wayne hushes him as he wiped at his face. Eddie’s now holding hands with him tightly, a look on his face like you couldn’t get him to let go for anything.

‘Ok kid.’

‘Stevie.’ Eddie corrects.

‘Ok, Stevie, do you know the way to your house from here?’ Wayne asks.

Stevie nods, wiping at his runny nose with his sleeve.

‘So you come with Ed and me now, yeah? We’ll get you back home and you can wait for Sarah there, okay?’

‘Can we stop at houses on the way?’ Eddie asks, sitting up all exited. The reminder of candy has both boys smiling at each other.

‘Don’t see why not. But we’re heading towards Stevie’s house okay? Don’t want anyone worrying.’ Wayne mediates. He’ll be giving Sarah an earful to be more careful that’s for sure. But he can’t help be a little relieved that Eddie managed to make one friend tonight.

Wayne manages to wrangle the two boys up and in the right direction, falling a step behind. Eddie still hasn’t let go of little Stevie’s hand.

‘I’m a dragon. I can roar just like one wanna see?’ Eddie asks.

Stevie nods, stopping to turn his full attention to Eddie.

Eddie roars, free hand up like a claw and voice as loud as he can make it.

Stevie just stands there, once it’s over he covers his mouth and giggles.

Eddie giggles back.

Wayne’s heart about damn near bursts.

🐉🐉🐉🐉

Tag list : @scoops-aboy86 @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @marvel-ous-m @thecatkingsthrone

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots

[lazylittledragon]

steddie dads??? in my 2024??? it's more likely than you'd think

[hairmetal666]

It's Wayne that goes with him when he buys the truck. He offers to go with him. Uses one of his few days off to do it.

On the way there, it strikes Steve that his own father would never do this with him. The man hadn't even bought the Beemer himself, just sent an assistant to take care of it. And here Wayne is, driving them to a used car dealership, humming along to some old country-western song on the radio.

It takes three dealerships for them to find it, but Wayne is patient, stoic, takes careful note of the cars that catch Steve's interest. He asks the salesman if he can pop the hood, peers at the engine, kicks the tires. He asks questions Steve would never think of, about adjustments to the odometer, history of repairs, if it was in any accidents.

Steve never considered wanting a truck, doesn't think it's his style. But he's walking the lot at the third dealership, and he sees it. It's a Chevy, blue and white, a few years old. It's in good condition, but was obviously used for work.

He walks towards it.

"You like this one?" Wayne asks. If he's surprised, he doesn't show it.

"Yeah, it's--yeah," Steve nods.

Wayne does his checks, asks his questions, gives a nod of approval.

It's the first car he takes on a test drive.

He barely has it on the road before he knows it's the one. It surprises him. He always thought he was his true self in the BMW, but now--the engine has a throaty grumble to it, can feel it rumbling through his foot on the pedal, and it's--it's--perfect.

"This it?" Wayne asks as they pull back into the lot.

"Yeah, yes. It's. Yeah."

"Well, let's get to hagglin."

Wayne is, of course, an expert haggler. By the end of it, he's got a couple thousand dollars knocked off the asking price, Steve more than within budget.

They drive back to Wayne's little house on the outskirts of Hawkins, the one the government gave him, the sun just disappearing behind the horizon.

Eddie stands on the small porch, wide smile on his face.

"Wow, Wayne," he says. He wraps an arm around his uncle's shoulders. "You really did a number on him."

"It's a solid vehicle, Ed."

"Never took you for a truck man, Harrington," Eddie teases.

"Can't you see how gorgeous she is?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow, his smile not faltering. "Wow, it's true love then."

"Looks like it. Wanna come for a ride?"

There's only a second where Eddie hesitates, but then he's running inside to grab shoes, tripping on his way to the truck.

---

It happened like this:

Eddie Munson died in the Upside Down in 1986.

He's reanimated by Vecna for the final battle, a puppet to do his master's bidding.

When they win, when Vecna is dead in a pile of dessicated vines, they can't find Eddie. Scour the Upside Down for him and come up empty. They have to assume he's dead, like everything else there, kept alive only by Vecna's power. None of them want to leave without him, but the world is destabilized, they can't stay, El has to close the gates.

That night, Steve pulls the battle vest from under his bed, sobs into the blood-soaked denim, the grief from the loss just as fresh as March of '86.

He and the kids, they go visit Wayne. It becomes a regular thing.

Two weeks after the end of Vecna, Wayne calls him. He's panicked, near hysterical, nothing like the man Steve's come to know.

He goes, fast as he can, to Wayne's house. All the lights are off, the front door ajar, and he runs, clattering into the living room.

Wayne is in the recliner, face pale and strained, and on the couch--on the couch--

Eddie Munson.

His hair's lank, his skin sallow, the light in his eyes dim, but it's him. Unquestionably.

Steve does the only thing he can think of, calls Hopper. He shows up a little while later with El and Will.

"I called Owens," Hopper says.

"Why would you do that?" Steve is angry.

"Look, kid, I get it. But none of us are equipped to deal with this."

He's right, so they wait.

It doesn't take the doctor, El, and Will long to figure that Eddie is Eddie, even though his heart beats a little slow and his skin's always cold and his blood is slightly the wrong color. He's still at least 75% human, and that's enough.

Only those six people know. It's dangerous to tell anyone else when the world still thinks Eddie Munson is a serial murderer. Owens asks for time to clear his name, and they have no choice but to agree.

After two days, Steve thinks he should give Eddie and Wayne space, but as he rises to go, Eddie's hand grips his wrist. "Stay?" He asks. Steve doesn't leave.

It's hard, keeping the secret from the rest of the kids, Robin. He wants to tell her, more than anything. About how they share a bed most nights, how he's memorizing the shape of Eddie's body in a way he shouldn't, how the gentle desire turns to profound longing--but Eddie's safety is the most important thing, so Steve keeps it to himself.

---

They go out in Steve's truck almost every night, always on backroads. It's the only way Eddie can leave the house.

It's Steve's favorite thing, the only time Eddie seems truly happy. They roll the windows down, turn the music up, and whip around deserted farm roads. Sometimes, Eddie will stick his head out the window, shout out into the night.

Steve is in love with him.

He has no idea if Eddie feels the same, figures it doesn't matter. He'll harbor this flame for the rest of his life without complaint because Eddie is alive.

He thinks he's done a good job at hiding his feelings, thinks he's able to avert his gaze, hide his blush, when Eddie comes out of his room in only his boxers, thinks Eddie hasn't noticed how Steve's eyes linger when they share joints lying in the bed of the truck.

Except tonight--tonight--they're driving back home, and Eddie, he's been quiet, distant, fidgety, and now he reaches out to turn down the radio, which has Steve's stomach in a knot.

"You--Steve, you've been so great. To me and Wayne, and--you're family, you know? To us, you're--but--"

And Steve thinks this is it, that Eddie noticed, that he's being let down easy, and he wants to throw up, cry, but Eddie's still talking.

"You have a life to live, right? You're--you're 23 and you're not stuck here like me, and I know Robin is ready to go and the kids are--they're going to college soon, and you shouldn't stay here for me, I'm--"

"What?" Steve says.

"What?" Eddie echoes.

"I don't want to leave," Steve says.

"But--"

"Where you are is where I want to be."

"I'm in love with you," Eddie says. Cover his face with his hands.

Steve pulls the truck to the shoulder. His hands are shaking.

"You love me?"

"I'm sorry." His apology is muffled. "I didn't mean--I know this fucks up--"

"Eddie." He says, soft. "Look at me?"

One deep brown eye peers up at him. "Eddie, I--I'm hopelessly in love with you."

Both eyes now, mouth a bright curve. "You mean it, Harrington?"

"Fuck, can't get enough of you, Munson."

"You know, if I thought for a second anything like was possible, I would've--fuck, I would've made a move ages ago. I would've--"

"Shut-up," he whispers against Eddie's mouth. "Kiss me."

---

And later, Robin will ask if he has someone, and he'll say yes, and she'll ask, soft, "is it him?" and he'll nod, and they'll both cry.

Later, a news report, Eddie Munson's body was recovered from the bottom of Sattler Quarry, bearing the same wounds as Vecna's other victims.

Later, Chief Powell will hold a press conference, say they're looking for a man named Henry Creel, wanted on suspicion of killing his mother and sister and the aggravated assault of his father with an MO that matches the 1986 killing spree.

Later, Steve will shave Eddie's head, Eddie crying softly as the hair tumbles to the bathroom floor. Steve will kiss the tears away, one by one, say, "I know it's hard to let go. But we'll move away, to a place where people say 'you look like that guy, that Eddie Munson,' and you'll say, 'I get that a lot,' and your hair will grow back, if you want it to."

Later, they'll invite everyone to Wayne's , everyone except Dustin, busy in Boston with an internship, and Eddie will be there to welcome them.

Later, he and Eddie will take the truck, drive up to Boston. And Eddie, he'll spy Dustin first, walks up to him and says, "Pretty metal tattoos, little dude," and they'll all cry until Dustin stops to yell at them for keeping the secret.

Later, Steve and Eddie will leave MIT--Dustin screeching that they have to call him every night promptly at 8pm still ringing in their ears-- in search of their future.

[novacorpsrecruit]

“Must’ve Been Some Dragon”

M | wc 815 | CW: implied child abuse

@steddieangstyaugust Day 15: Childhood

“Must’ve been some dragon.”

Steve looked up across Eddie’s hospital bed at Wayne Munson. They have been sitting by Eddie’s bedside for almost 10 hours, and this was the first words Wayne has spoken.

“I’m sorry?” Steve asked, readjusting in his seat to look more towards Wayne. Wayne gestured at Eddie’s bandaged body. He was worse for wear. Lost a lot of blood. Steve spent way too long doing chest compressions before they could get his heart beating again. Steve still had Eddie’s dried blood on his fingernails.

“Must have been some dragon,” Wayne repeated. “He — uh — used to come over, scraped or bruised. Said it was a dragon. A dragon gave him those bruises or a dragon scraped his knee.” Wayne’s hand hovered over Eddie’s bandaged arm, wanting to touch him, but not wanting to cause any further harm. “Ego,” He settled his touch on Eddie’s bare hand. “Some dragon.”

Steve let out a soft laugh. “Yeah. It was some dragon.” Steve couldn’t help but turn his attention back to Eddie, peacefully still. “He was brave against the it. The dragon.”

“He always is,” Wayne said, his thumb running across the back of Eddie’s hand.

🐉 ⚔️

Steve was jolted awake. The body next to him — his boyfriend — jerked up, jostling Steve off his chest. Eddie inhaled sharply, burying his face into his hands, body shaking.

“Hey, hey,” Steve whispered, sitting up, his hand rubbing gentle circles on Eddie’s back. “Hey, you’re safe. We’re okay.”

Eddie jostled his head, nodding of some sorts. His head still buried in his hands, his breath still uneven. Steve leaned into Eddie, his head against his shoulder.

“We’re okay,” Steve said.

“W-we’re okay,” Eddie repeated, his breath still shaky.

Steve rubbed circles into Eddie’s back, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s bare shoulder. “Was it the bats?”

Eddie shook his head. “It was — uh — a dragon,” Eddie admitted. He leaned against Steve’s touch, closing his eyes and let out a soft sigh. “I haven’t — I haven’t had that nightmare since I was a kid.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Eddie shook his head, turning to bury himself in Steve’s arms. Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie, holding him securely. “It’s fine. It’s in the past. Don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

“The dragon?” Steve asked softly.

Eddie nodded.

“I’ll protect you,” Steve promised. “No matter the size of dragon, I’ll protect you from it.”

Eddie leaned back to look at Steve. “Any dragon?”

“Any dragon that dares to step in the Munson Kingdom,” Steve said. “I’ll fight for your honor.”

Eddie let out a wet laugh, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before leaning back into him. “My knight in shining armor.”

Steve pressed a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head, holding him tightly as they both fell back asleep, free from dragons.

🐉 ⚔️

Steve was in the middle of getting ready for his shift at Family Video when there was pounding at the door. Steve sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“Eddie, I swear to god,” he half shouted. Not sure if Eddie could even hear him. He made his way through the Munson’s new trailer — a 2-bedroom that Steve practically moved into, sharing Eddie’s space. “If you forgot your key again —“

Steve opened the front door. A man, slightly taller than him. Bigger too, but not bigger than Hopper. Dark hair, familiar brown eyes, and a soft grin that felt … wrong.

Steve instantly knew who this was.

“I’m looking for Wayne or Eddie,” Ricky Munson said, Steve assumed as politely as he could. Which wasn’t much.

“Wrong house,” Steve said, pushing the door shut. Ricky’s hand shot out, stopping the door. He pushed it open, keeping his arm stretched out.

“I think I’m at the right house,” Ricky said slowly. “You seen my son or brother lately?”

Steve’s eyes dropped to the arm in front of him, holding the door open. To the ink on Ricky’s forearm. A dragon tattoo on his right arm.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

Little Eddie coming to Wayne, bruised and battered by a dragon.

Eddie having nightmares about a dragon hurting him.

And Steve, who promised Eddie that he would protect him from dragons. Of any kind.

Steve reached beside the door, feeling the handle of his nail bat fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.

“Heard a lot about you, Ricky,” Steve said, stepping back, pulling the nail bat behind him. “They’ll be home shortly if you want to come in.”

Ricky gave a sly grin, one that looked innocent at face value but felt slimy. Ricky took the first step into the Munson’s trailer. Steve tightened his grip on his nail bat.

Any dragon, he told Eddie.

Any dragon that dares to step into the Munson kingdom.

Especially the dragon that haunted his childhood.

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie and Steve and their three daughters are sitting around the kitchen table one evening when four-year-old Hazel asks –

“Now that I’m here, are you gonna get married soon?

Steve blinks.

The question isn’t entirely out of left field – not for Hazel, anyway, whose preschool teacher got married a few weeks ago and came back with all kinds of pictures and stories. Apparently, Hazel’s been eating it all up, and she’s their most romantical kid, so to speak, so that’s not really a shock.

Thing is, Eddie and Steve are already married – have been for six years this past May, so…

“Uh, we are married, Hazy-Jay,” Eddie answers before Steve has a chance to say anything.

Hazel’s face falls, her mouth parting.

“Huh?”

Steve inwardly cringes.

“You got married before?” Hazel asks, her chin quivering like she’s only a few moments away from tears (and she’s their most emotional kid too, so she probably is).

“People get married before they have kids, Hazel,” seven-year-old Robbie points out all matter-of-fact.

“Well,” Steve pauses, because, yeah, Robbie is mostly not wrong, but those pesky gay marriage laws had kept him and Eddie from getting married until Massachusetts finally legalized it in ‘04 (when Moe was three and Robbie six-ish months old and Hazel still two years away). He’s pretty sure that level of nuance might be lost on their four-year-old though.

“Not Dad and Papa,” Moe cuts in, “Me and you were there, Robbie.”

“Moe,” Eddie mutters, “Not helping.”

“What?” Moe shrugs, “It’s true!”

Hazel looks positively devastated by this information.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Well, hon, we didn’t know you were coming,” Steve tries, “We didn’t know any of you were coming!”

“That’s not true,” Moe points out, “You knew about Robbie.”

“Moe,” Eddie hisses.

Steve reaches behind him to snag a framed photo of him and Eddie and Steve and Moe and Robbie all smiling at the camera on the steps of Boston City Hall off the shelf it perches on.

“You know this picture?” he asks as Hazel climbs into his lap. She nods, “This is from the day Dad and I got married.”

“It doesn’t look like a wedding,” Hazel says skeptically, her nose all scrunched up. 

“‘Cause it wasn’t really a wedding,” Steve tells her, “We got married at a courthouse in Boston – same courthouse where we adopted you and where we adopted Moe and where we adopted Robbie.”

“Why did you adopted us?”

“Well, you know how sometimes we take emergency foster placements every once in a while and we’ll have a new friend for a few days?”

Hazel nods.

“Dad and I used to do that all the time,” he continues, “and that’s how we met Moe, and so for two years it was just me and Daddy and Moe, and then we found out that you guy’s mom was gonna have another baby, and then we met Robbie.”

“And then me?”

“And then you,” Steve nods, “It was me and Dad and Moe and Robbie for three years, and then one day we found out that your mom had another baby, and that was you.”

Hazel wordlessly mulls this over for a bit, and then she lets out a pensive little sigh.

“If you would’a known about me before, would you wait?”

“To get married? Of course we would’ve waited.”

“And then maybe you would’a had a real wedding?”

“Maybe,” Steve affirms, even though…probably not, because that shit is expensive and, seriously, nothing out there could have prepared Steve for the reality of their college savings goal doubling overnight.

“Where is our mom now?” Hazel then asks.

Moe, helpful as always, cuts in with, “She’s dead now.”

“Moe,” Eddie exclaims for the third time, “Jee-eez, read the room please!”