#final girl steve

[libraryofgage]

New fic!!

Welcome to the Final Girl Steve AU, where Steddie get together pre-canon, Steve is a horror fan that's genre-aware, and nobody dies on my watch

This is the first part of the series, and it's just Steddie fluff over the summer between their sophomore and junior year!

Summary:

“Yeah, but you’re entirely predictable. I mean, you’re a rich boy who’s good at sports and climbs the social ladder like it’s nothing. No way you like nerd stuff. You’re destined to be a douchebag, Harrington. The Munson Doctrine never lies.” As he speaks, Eddie can see Steve’s frown get deeper and his eyes get darker until he turns his head away and takes a shaky drag of the joint. He lets it out, still shaky, and seems to be gathering himself. Eddie is starting to brace for a punch or kick or something violent when Steve says, “You’re just as bad, then.” “What?” Steve takes another drag, his shoulders relaxing, and he looks at Eddie. “You’re no better, Munson. As much as you’d like to think otherwise, you’re also predictable. I mean, you’re a guy who feels like an outcast so he embraces the role and doesn’t bother to think he could ever be wrong about someone he’s never actually talked to before. Seems like you’re destined to be a douchebag, too.” For the first time in a long time, Eddie is speechless.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two / Part Three (You Are Here)

Complete Thing on A03

Sure enough, Jason Carver had brought a priest. 

The idiot himself stood next to the guy, smugly grinning like a hunter posing with his prized buck, a small crowd already gathering. 

Opposing them was Michael Wheeler, hands planted on Hellfire’s table and back up like a pissed off cat’s, mouth moving faster than Eddie thought possible.

He couldn’t hear what Wheeler was saying. 

Frankly did not want to know what Wheeler was saying, and could only do his damndest to intervene before Mike tanked the situation entirely. 

Gareth and Jeff flanked him, both tense as hell. Neither had backed down though, standing tall and holding ground even as Jason pulled more and more people into his little spectacle. 

Lucas and Grant on the other hand, were standing off to the side.

They weren’t cowering exactly, but both were definitely wincing as Gareth opened his mouth to add his own two cents. 

Given the scowl on the priest, it was probably something nasty, 

‘Fuck.’ Eddie thought, teeth clenched, as Jason drew out his arms, making an even bigger production for his little audience. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ 

The worst thing of all? 

Dustin managed to reach the group before anyone else did. 

Wheeler and Emerson might have low charisma, but Dustin had a particular combination of snark and a know-it-all attitude that really pissed off authority figures. 

(And Eddie would know, given he was the reigning champion of pissing off authority figures.) 

He did, however, slide in right in time to hear the priest respond. 

“I don’t care for your tone, young man. Jason here has some concerns over your club and I have to agree, what I see is quite,” The guy paused, jowls jiggling as he looked over their table, clearly eyeing Hellfire’s logo. “alarming.” 

 At least wasn’t an actual sermon.

Not yet, anyway. 

Eddie came up right inbetween Mike and Dustin, intending to make himself out to be the new target for all to aim at.  

There was an art to making yourself the sole owner of everything evil in this world, and Eddie had learned it all, trial by fire style.  

“Carver is full of--” Mike snarled, and thankfully was cut off—not by Eddie, or the hand he’d just clamped onto Mike’s shoulder—but by Harrington. 

Who sauntered right up as if he was joining everyone for dinner, and not walking into a circus act.

“Hello Father.” Harrington said, voice warm and welcoming.  “Would you like some of our cookies? We have a sample platter.” 

“Oh--Steve!” The priest blinked, actually blinked, that he was startled to see Hawkins’ golden boy appear next to him. “I’m sorry but no. I’m ah, here for other reasons.”

He paused so long it was nearly comedic before tentatively asking; “ Are you with this table?”

Like the guy couldn’t see the same Hellfire logo plastered across Steve’s ridiculous jock chest. 

Eddie opened his mouth to give a resounding no, Hellfire shirt or not--when Mike of all people put an elbow into his side. 

As if Eddie was the one who needed to be silenced.  

“I am.” Steve put an arm down on Dustin’s shoulder, squeezing it in a way that looked like fond encouragement (but what Eddie was pretty sure was actually a warning in the same way the hand on Mike’s shoulder was.) “I came to help out my friends and fundraise.”

Then he beamed, face lighting up with the full Harrington charm, giga watt smile and all. 

Now the priest just looked awkward. 

“You’ve apparently been fundraising for what I have been told is a…Satanist Club?” 

It was hilariously delicate, how the priest said it. Like now that a respectable member of Hawkins was here, he had to be more careful about what words he used. 

Eddie would have interrupted then.  Retake the reins and do what he did best in terms of making everyone forget about everything but him--except Carver was rounding on Harrington, and well.

He was always a fan of the rich eating each other. 

“You cannot seriously be with these--these,” Jason’s eyes darted to between him and the priest, before physically reigning himself in. “hooligans, Harrington!” 

“I’m sorry.” Harrington said, and whatever Jason had been expecting to get hit with, it wasn’t “good ol’ boy” southern charm. 

He blinked, taking on the air of a kicked puppy who couldn’t understand why someone would be so mean as he glanced around the crowd.  “I think I'm a little lost here.” 

Jason clearly wasn’t prepared for that either. 

“What?” 

“This table is for a storytelling and math game.” Steve spoke slowly, in the same way one explained things to a toddler. “You have to roll dice and add the numbers up to do anything."

“It’s not a game, Steve.” Jason spat back. “It’s an evil trick made to tempt the susceptible minds of children to the dark arts!” 

Personally, Eddie was amazed Carver even knew the word susceptible let alone be able to properly use it in a sentence. 

(He tried to open his mouth to say so, and once again got elbowed, this time by Gareth. 

The look he gave his younger friend could have melted steel beams.)

“That’s what this is about?” Harrington slid his arm off Dustin's shoulders, leaning back to look at the priest and the people around them in a show of blatant disbelief. “You think the nerd club is related to satanism?” 

It was Eddie's own tactic--arguing that D&D was “using academic skills” and “making math fun!" not that Hellfire had ever been successful using it.

Of course, they weren’t Hawkins golden boy either. 

Jason sputtered. 

“It has monsters and--demons in it! It makes children do spells and sign over their souls!” He flung a hand out, for the first time acknowledging Eddie by pointing at his shirt. “Just look at that! It’s awful!”  

"Hey." Eddie said, hand going over his very well drawn dragon.

“I once had to stop an argument about how much weight a wooden bridge could hold.” Steve countered, hands moving to his hips. “I only got them to stop by agreeing to take the kids to a library so they could look it up.” 

He squinted, in Carver's direction, deadpanning; "I take it you think the library is evil now too?"

“The name of the club is called Hellfire!” Jason shrieked, sounding more like an angry teakettle than anything dangerous. 

“Look I get that it sounds scary,” Steve said, the tiniest hint of pity entering his voice, “but they’re trying to make math problems and English essays sound cool. It’s the same reason Father John here calls our annual haunted house Hell House, isn’t it? So people go in it to begin with?” 

Harrington turned to look expectantly at the priest, and Eddie had to admit it was an excellent way to both pander to the guy and sound like Jason was making a big deal out of nothing. 

Perhaps, he’d stay quiet after all. 

(Even if it went against Eddie’s entire being to do so.)

“Well, yes, but--” Father John had clearly picked up on the fact he was losing this particular argument, but plowed forward regardless. “Those activities are supervised by the church…” 

“This is evil Harrington, and you should know better to promote it.” Carver tacked on, like this was a two bit comedy sketch. 

“When I played it we just saved some poor town from a bad guy who set it on fire.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

Then he leaned in, converting his voice into a stage whisper that somehow projected it, giving the impression that everyone around them was listening in on a secret. 

“The doctor said it was a really good way for Dustin and Erica to process the mall fire. He’s a specialist--my mother managed to convince him to fly down to help all the kids who got hurt.” 

Eddie was 100% sure that was total bullshit, but the mere mention of Harrington's mother had seemed to have an effect on the people around them.

 Like Steve had invoked the name of an old but beloved God, not always benevolent but definitely memorable. 

“She’s always been a champion of helping when you can.” Steve spoke to the priest, like they were having a conversation between just the two of them. “Encouraging people to volunteer and helping fundraise.”

“She has been." Father John said, in the kind of instant way one does when they don’t want to offend a very large donor.  "Tell your mom I look forward to her coming back from her--ah, trip.”

 With an awkward glance to the table, he added; “...I suppose I don’t see how math comes into play?” 

“Oh it’s right from the start. Hey Jeff, come here, show Father John how you have to do a bunch of calculations and stuff to make a character.” 

“Ah--right.” Jeff sprung to life, moving around the table to Steve.

“We uh, we start with this character sheet…” 

“Eddie Munson runs the club.” Jason interrupted, before Steve could get Jeff to going.

“He’s right there! Does he look like this whole thing is just an innocent board game?” 

This was a last ditch effort, and it was clear by the chattering that had started circling amongst their audience that everyone knew it. 

Unfortunately, it was a good one.

This was the downside to making yourself a target. Once a bad guy, always a bad guy--particularly in the eyes of the PTA. 

“Munson?” Harrington dismissed with a scoff. “He’s harmless.” 

Which was news to most of their audience given the amount of attention Eddie suddenly had on him, but it was fine. 

He was used to the disapproving stares and glares, and gave his best award winning smile in response. 

Jason looked at Harrington like he’d lost his mind. 

“He has skulls on his fingers for fucks sake!” 

“Jason.” Steve admonished, in a perfect mimic of an upset southern mother. “Language.” 

Carver's jaw dropped, face purpling in rage.

Steve ignored him, turning back to the Priest. “I don’t know what's gotten into him but I’m sorry Jason’s wasted your time, Father.” 

“Munson is a drug dealer!” And ah, here came the Hail Mary move, Carver's one and only trump card.

“We all know he’s a drug dealer, and he’s using this--this game, to give drugs to kids!”

“Really?” Steve turned. “Lucas, what happens if I ever catch you smoking weed?” 

Lucas answered instantly. “You’re going to make us run laps at five in the morning.” 

“For a month.” Dustin added, with an exaggerated shudder. 

It would have been too much--except his disgusted face sold it. 

“Eddie’s just loud and wants to be a rockstar.” Harrington said, like this he was harmless.

No one on Steve's side of things had ever thought of Eddie as harmless.

 “I’ve babysat these kids for years and Eddie was a huge help in making sure no one in high school messed with them.” He continued, like they were some sort of team or friends even.

(Like Eddie hadn't been at Harrington's throat all day, pissy and defensive.)

“We have a real bullying problem right now. Funny enough,” Steve’s nailed Jason with a look, “I keep hearing that it’s coming from the basketball team.” 

“What are you implying?” Jason asked darkly. 

“Just that it’s funny how nobody got caught fighting when I was team captain.” Steve returned. 

God the man was such a bitch. Eddie kind of wanted to kiss him a little. 

Okay, more than a little.

“I get you have some kind of beef with Munson, but let’s not drag a bunch of people into it. Especially not Father John.” Harrington was playing up to the mothers around him now, dismissing Carver entirely as he did so. “He’s a busy guy.”

“Very.” Said Father nodded solemnly. “I do not appreciate being pulled into a high school squabble.” 

Jason’s mouth swam through shapes, words stuttering out of it. “This isn’t, thats not--”

“We can talk about this after church on Sunday.” Father John interrupted, the finishing blow to Carver's little show.

“You came all this way, at least have a cookie on us.” Steve said with an appeasing tone, reaching an arm back behind him.

Quick on the uptake, a cookie appeared in his hands. 

He offered it out to the priest, who took it happily.

"Okay, who wants cake!?” He called, in a clear and obvious dismissal of Jason. 

Who stood there, like he couldn’t believe what just happened. 

His eyes slid to Eddie's, fists clenched tightly at his side, hatred pouring off him so strongly one could almost taste it.

Eddie winked at him.

(Unknown to him at the time, Jason had also looked at Steve--and Steve would wink too.)

xXx

Steve Harrington, who Eddie had been an absolute ass all day too, had looked Jason Carver, a Priest and half of Hawkins in the eye and announced that he, Eddie Munson, was a good person at heart.

It made Eddie want to vomit a little when he thought about it too hard.

“I know this is horrible timing,” Robin said, sidling up as the crowd finally dispersed, “but I really, really need to talk to you.” 

Eddie turned, head full of far too many thoughts and ready to tell her such, when he caught sight of Buckley's face. 

Was reminded, by the sheer nervous, ‘horse about to bolt’ vibe, that he owed it to Robin as a fellow queer not to be a dick about her accidental outing.

Even if all he wanted was to preen in the wake of Carver’s defeat. 

‘See Mothers of Hawkins? Your own golden boy just gave me his stamp of approval!’ 

A mental image that immediately changed to Steve Harrington’s name stamped on his ass and dammit he had to get ahold of his thoughts before he fell down rabbit holes like this--!

“Back there, at the stairs,” Robin started, voice dropping low, and Eddie didn’t miss the way her eyes kept seeking out Steve, like he was some kind of safety net--which he probably was. “What um--what did you hear?” 

It took a lot of guts to come talk to him, knowing what he'd overheard--particularly given they'd just fended off the church.

He'd never exactly underestimated Robin Buckley, but then, he'd never expected this level of badassery from her either.

“Eddie?” Robin prodded again, chewing hard on her bottom lip.

“Sorry, distracted.” Eddie waved a hand behind himself. “Not everyday the King decides to defend your honor to a priest.” 

With a little bow, he offered his elbow out to her, a clear signal to take it and let him escort them away from unwanted ears.

In a show of bravery, Robin took his elbow and let him lead, even as she frowned up at him, looking like she was about to say something.

Likely it was in defense of Harrington, but Eddie had been interrupted enough for one day. 

“You and His Highness over there really should be more aware of your surroundings." He started, voice low. "Lucky for you, you’re among friends. You and Dorothy both.” 

He reached a foot out, tapping Robin’s own. 

Right on top of a doodled pair of tits. 

Robin let go of his elbow and glanced down, before flinging her head right back up, panicked.

"I--"

“If you’d like I can pretend I never heard a thing.” Eddie interrupted, dropping his voice into the gentler tone he reserved for delicate conversations.

People were always surprised by the lengths he went to make sure someone was comfortable--but then, people also forgot how often Eddie heard things he shouldn’t. 

People didn't take drugs just for fun, after all.

“Or I can offer a friend of a friend discount on my wares,” He put a finger to his lips, miming smoking with one hand while he opened his vest with the other to flash the little pink triangle pin that sat inside, announcing his own sexualities status.

“and we can, say, discuss the differences between radical and social feminism while admiring the fine forms of Susan Sarandon and Peter Hinwood?”

The smile he gets is two parts relief, one part genuine delight and Eddie grinned right back at her, flicking his vest closed.

“I did not take you for a Peter Hinwood type.” Robin said it hesitantly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Thought you’d find Tim Curry’s…acting skills, more to your taste.”

“In the case of Rocky Horror? I am Tim Curry.” He announced, loud and proud (well for this kind of conversation at least.) 

He was rewarded by the tension finally melting out of Robin’s shoulders. 

(This, Eddie reflected, is what he should have been doing this entire time, instead of getting tied up in knots over Harrington and turning into some kind of non-conformist tyrant.) 

“Do you actually know the differences between social and radical feminism?” Robin challenged, braver now, and Eddie knew then and there he’d been successful in assuring her her secret was safe.

That she was safe, with him.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” Eddie said, giving a playful nudge to her shoulder. 

Baths in the laugh he gets for it, and for the first time today feels like he’s finally on firmer ground.

They chatted for a moment longer, making a loop on the very outskirts of the gym, voices hushed when it came to things that small town ears shouldn’t overhear--but of course, Robin couldn’t just leave things at that.

“Hey Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you do me one more favor?”

“Anything for you, my favorite feminist.” 

For the first time since this conversation started, Robin managed to sound firm. 

“Stop referring to Steve as a King.” 

She rushed ahead, anticipating being cut off, and thus Eddie is hit with a wave of words, none of which he’d ever thought he’d hear in relation to thee Steven Harrington. 

“He’s working really hard to get away from it, the whole King thing and how he used to be. I don’t know what all he did to like--you guys,” She flapped her hand in the general direction of Hellfire, “and I know he wasn’t an innocent bystander, but I kinda realized over the summer that I blamed him for a lot of things that were in my own head, and that he wasn’t--he was never as bad as I thought he was and he's still trying to make it up to me anyway.”

Robin trailed off, seeming to try and piece out what she wanted to say next without giving away the whole farm. “It’s not some act, Eddie. Steve’s really trying to change.” 

Which yeah.

Eddie could see that, now. 

Maybe not before but…

“Okay.” He said, after a long, long moment. “No more King Steve. Got it.”

The smile he got for that also felt like a victory, even if it was wrenched out of him.

xXx

Two hours and a dispersed crowd later, Eddie found himself once again stuck in his own head. 

The facts were thus:

Steve Harrington was a good dude. 

He used his good dude-ness to save Hellfire from a literal priest, right smack in front of God and Principal Hairy Ass both

All of Hellfire actually liked him 

According to Robin Buckley, Steve was entirely fine with “all us triangles” quote/unquote 

And;

Eddie was jealous.

He was self aware enough to admit it, alongside the fact that Jason Carver aside, maybe Eddie had been the villain today instead of Steve. 

Which meant he not only owed Harrington an apology, but he owed it to both of them to work out his own stupid shit before it blew up in his face and cost him all his friends.

(He’d have called this move “pulling a Harrington” before today but now that feels mean, which Eddie supposes signals he’s grown as a person or some shit.) 

So now he sits on Steve’s beemer, knowing the move will likely antagonize the ex-jock but equally knowing he’s planning on jumping off the car the second the guy comes near, and that the move itself will get Harrington to listen to him the second he’s done supervising whatever Hellfire’s youngest is doing.

(Eating leftover cookies like the older members are as they finish packing up, Eddie assumes.) 

Ducking out like he did had allowed him some much needed time to think things though. Figure out what he was going to say--without an audience present.

He’d apologize publicly if he had to. But being vulnerable is hard, and given the way his friends had been acting, Steve isn’t the only person he owes an apology to. 

For now, he’ll begin here, without an audience. 

Eddie doesn’t get to plan for long--only gets to rehearse a few lines of his little spiel when a pointed cough jerks him back to reality. 

There stands Steve Harrington, a fat wad of cash in one hand and a box in the other.

Like a man sent to the gallows, Eddie leapt off the beemer, squaring his shoulders. 

He could do this.

 Apologize-- and mean it. 

Not that Steve gave him the chance to. 

“The guys told me to give this to you.” He said, holding out the cash. Then he took a breath, like he was preparing to go to war, and added; 

“I know you weren’t happy with me being here, and you probably don’t want this, but Dustin said you really liked cinnamon brownies so I made you some.” 

The box was now held out alongside the cash, proof that Steve had tried to start this whole thing off on the right foot. 

Eddie stared at it, then at Steve. 

Felt the guilt chew on his gut just that much harder.

“I have been shitty to you all day. Why are you giving me this?” 

Steve shrugged. 

“To be fair I didn’t exactly make it easy on you either. You said jump and I said ‘watch this’.” Steve laughed, a small, almost self depicting sound. “Dustin’s been on my ass all day about it.” 

Of course he had. 

“Mine too.” Eddie admitted. “It's his tone, I swear."

“Yes!” 

Carefully, Eddie reached out, accepted the box and the cash. 

“Thanks by the way. For the stuff you said about me earlier.” 

Steve grimaced, cheeks tinting a (lickable) red. “Yeah sorry, I--”

“No not--not that stuff.’ Eddie said, mentally hauling his thoughts back in line, fiddling with the cash. “The stuff about being a good person. No one’s uh. Said that. About me.”

Not except for Wayne, but Harrington wouldn’t know nor care about Eddie’s uncle. 

Steve shrugged. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” 

He’d argue that, except something was off. 

It took Eddie a moment to place it--that the wad Steve handed over was way too big for the little bake sale they’d just attended. 

He tucked the box under his arm, quickly counting the stack with a smoothness only drug dealers and bank tellers could manage.

“It’s all there, I promise.” Steve told him simply, but without judgment. He sounded like he expected this and that didn’t sit right with Eddie either. 

Not that he could do anything about it because he’d just counted up didn’t make any sense. 

Not trusting himself, Eddie stacked it back together, before counting it all again. He was faster this time, trying to figure out among all the ones, fives and tens how the hell they had managed to sell that many cookies. 

Particularly considering the most expensive thing was one of the cakes and he’d watched Steve sell it for fifteen dollars. 

So why were there three twenties sitting in the stack? 

“Either you up charged the absolute shit out of someone’s mom, in which case I congratulate you, you sneaky devil,” Eddie said slowly, “Or you put extra cash in here.” 

Steve blushed properly this time. 

Eddie zeroed in on his face, watching as Steve rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, trying to pull his charming mask into place.

He didn't quite manage it.

Hadn’t even been wearing it before now, Eddie realized suddenly.

This entire conversation Steve had a realness to him that Eddie had never really seen. 

Had maybe not wanted to see, from someone like Harrington. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Steve protested, like a kid who’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “That’s what we charged.” 

“You are a terrible liar.” Eddie accused, hand trembling. “We can’t take this, man. This is a almost two hundred dollars.” 

Way more than what they’d need for Gen Con. It was enough to get them two fuckin’ hotel rooms! 

“If It helps any, I didn’t do it for you.” Steve’s blush slid into something more genuine, as he nodded his head to where Hellfire was spilling out of the gym doors, laughing and shoving one another. 

“They deserve to have a good trip.” He added, eyes fond as he watched Dustin and Mike squabble over how to fold Hellfire's banner.

It made his whole face soften, the harsh features of his jaw turning into something that was so adorable Eddie wanted to bite through it. 

“Do you want to come?” Someone said, and it took both Steve’s startled look and a second long pause for Eddie to realize that someone was him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid-! 

“To the convention?” Steve asked, looking doubtful. 

Pity that Eddie was already nodding, like his brain and his body were at a total disconnect.

Maybe aliens had finally taken him over. Or a demon. 

(Demonic possession could frankly explain a lot about today, Carver’s weird little power play aside.)

“Dude you don’t even like me.” Steve said. “Why would you want me to come along?” 

“I dunno Harrington. All of Hellfire seemed to like you, and not just my freshman.” Eddie countered easily, gliding right over the fact that he himself did like Steve.

Way more than he should, and that right there was half of Eddie’s problem. 

“They have pretty good taste in things.” He waived a hand, as if this wasn’t a complete 180 from how he’d acted all day. “I could understand if you didn’t want to slum it with us nerds though.”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“I’ve been slumming it all day with you nerds, if you haven’t noticed.” 

“Yeah? What’s your verdict on us?” 

“Not as bad as you could be.” 

Eddie tilted his head back and laughed. “High praise from the King!”

He felt bad immediately after, and made himself promise to be more mindful about Robin’s ask--but  thankfully Harrington didn’t take it hard. 

(Habits, Eddie knew, were hard to change.

Took a lot of careful attention to change. 

He had a long road ahead of him, and he hoped this little olive branch put him a few miles down it.) 

Steve awarded him a small smile. “I haven’t been the King for a long while, man. But if you guys have an opening, I think I wouldn’t mind being a knight or whatever.” 

“Ste-eeeve Harrington, defender of the realm.” Eddie nodded once, decisively. “I can see it.”

He tucked away the cash, and thus missed how Steve looked weirdly contemplative at that. 

Raised his head and stuck out a hand. 

Tentatively, Steve took it. 

“Welcome to the club, Harrington. We meet on Fridays. Bring snacks.” 

“Cookies okay?”

“Going by Gareth’s judgment, they’re more than okay.”

Eddie smiled and Steve smiled back, and God how he hated how fucking cute Harrington’s face was. 

Particularly since he now got to think of the guy as “Steve” without feeling weird about it. 

As in his possible, potential, friend Steve.

What a fucking trip that was. 

“Oh, and Steve?” He called, the thought hitting him as Steve turned to welcome the group making their way to the beemer.

Steve had let his hand fall, turning to open the front door of the Beemer with a cocked eyebrow.

Eddie flicked a finger out, lightly tapping the Hellfire logo. “Tell Lucas I’ll get him another shirt. That one’s all yours, big boy.” 

If there was a pink hue to Harrington’s cheeks, he was blaming sunburn. 

(Two months, six days, and one meddlesome asshole named Henderson later, and Eddie would find out that Steve had in fact, been blushing.

He’d be furious at Dustin’s involvement, if it hadn’t directly led to Eddie finding out Steve’s blush did in fact go down his chest.

And his happy trail.

And his--

Well.

Men do not kiss and tell. 

Not to fucking freshmen, anyway.) 

THERE IS A GEN CON, "THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED BECAUSE DUSTIN IS A MEDDLESOME SHIT" BONUS BUT it's on A03 cause it was long enough to be its own post and I wasn't gonna add it to this one. You can read it here LINK

[xoxoladyaz]

You're My Heaven, Angel (Paramedic Steve x Rockstar Eddie) - Part 2

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 (Coming Soon)

AN: I just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU to everyone who has been so kind and so supportive of Part 1! I hear you and I, too, want to create a whole series based around this idea. It's a lot of pressure following-up something that's so beloved, but I'm going to give it my best!

Robin must secretly hate Steve.

She must be the most incredible actress in the entire world. She must be the most prolific conman that’s in the business of conman-ing people or whatever. She must have made a blood oath with an elder god during a full moon that no matter how many days or weeks or months or years it took, she would one day make Steve Harrington’s life absolutely miserable. There’s no other reasonable explanation for why she insists on taking the scenic route to Eddie’s room - a scenic route which adds on two additional minutes of travel time instead of heading straight down the hallway (which maybe adds forty seconds tops). 

A route which means Steve has to bear two additional minutes of Eddie loudly introducing him to every single doctor, nurse, patient or family member that they come across on the way to his suite. Never mind that Steve’s worked with most of these doctors and nurses for years now, never mind that he actually goes to Sharla’s poker group when he has Thursdays off with the other fifty-something moms on staff (which Robin never ceases to find absolutely hilarious); no, Eddie is all smiles and arm flourishes, loudly – too loudly – proclaiming that they are now in the presence of his angel, his baby, his angel baby, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, his amor, his partner, his husband – 

“Congratulations, Steve! I didn’t know you got married!” Sue laughs as the entire production passes by. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie blows her a noisy kiss before clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath, and – 

“I’M GETTING MARRIED IN THE MORNING - ”

“Robin, he’s singing again!”

“I know, dingus, I can hear him.”

“DING DONG, THE BELLS ARE GONNA CHIIIIIMMMEEEEEEEE - ”

Steve turns back, risking a glare at Robin mid-step. “Remind me why we’re going the long way around?”

Robin snorts out a laugh, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Come on, Stevie, we all need the exercise.”

“ – GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIMMMMMEEEE – Stevie? Stevie,” Eddie turns and sighs at Steve and okay, Steve can’t tell if Eddie’s eyes are super dilated because of the probable head trauma or if there’s a weird reflection from the fluorescents, but his eyes are, like, legit sparkling up at him. “Steeeeeevieeeee - ”

“Yep, I’m still here.” Eddie grins, flopping to the side so that their joined hands are resting up against his head. He sighs happily, his feet wiggling under the shock blanket, and it’s not cute Steve stop thinking it’s cute – 

“Steve!” He pulls his eyes away just as the gurney comes to a stop in front of Brenda, one of the intake nurses currently on shift. Brenda’s blonde and cute and ethically non-monogamous, but Steve is more of a one and done sort of guy. That doesn’t mean they don’t flirt like crazy anytime they bump into each other, though. (Hey, he’s gotta stay in shape somehow.)

“Looking good today. Is that a new shirt?” She asks with a smirk, her eyes running over his biceps. (It’s not a new shirt, Robin just ran it through the dryer, so it shrunk. Really, he should have gotten rid of it, but it makes his biceps look amazing.)

“Nah, it’s - ”

He has a line. He has a great line. But as soon as he opens his mouth to speak it, he’s cut off by a very loud hissing sound coming from his left and – 

Yep, it’s Eddie. Eddie, who’s glaring at Brenda like they’re mortal enemies. Seriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have laser eyes like that one superhero guy because if he did, Brenda would be at risk of getting too tan.

“MINE!” Eddie snaps at the end of his hiss and then, all while still maintaining eye contact with Brenda, he yanks Steve’s hand to his mouth and licks it. And not, like, a gentle lick that you’d get from a puppy. No, Eddie licks his hand like he’s trying to give Steve a tongue bath.

(His first instinct should be to pull away, but instead all Steve can think about it Eddie giving him an actual full body tongue bath - )

“Dude!” Steve exclaims when he does finally pull his hand away. (He hears Robin snort under her breath, clearly having caught onto the fact that his brain broke at the whole licking thing and shit, now he’s thinking about it again - )

“No, MINE!” Eddie growls, and Steve barely has a chance to wipe his hand on his pants before Eddie is grabbing it back, clutching it between both of his hands like it’s his special or something. (Special, was that the word that the guy used? The little creepy guy in that one movie? He needs to text Dustin and ask.)

“Aww, I’m glad to see you’ve finally met someone!” Brenda teases.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replies distractedly, trying (and failing) to shake one of Eddie’s hands off of his hand because now that they’re actually at his suite, he’s going to need them. “Brenda, this is - ”

“The concussion patient from Lollapalooza, Sarah clued me in,” Brenda says, snapping her gum. “Eddie, right?”

Eddie pauses from wrestling with Steve to sniff at Brenda and honestly, as someone who spent way too much time at country clubs as a child because of his parents, Eddie has the whole I’m-better-than-you-you-poor-person-wearing-Adidas expression locked down. “That’s Mister Eddie to you, Briony.”

Briony? “Who’s Briony?”

Robin kicks the gurney forward with an eye roll and suddenly they’re moving into the suite. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dingus.”

Eddie finally manages to tear his eyes away from Brenda. He perks his head up at Steve and once Steve’s face is in his line of sight his expression softens, the sparkles coming back in full force. “And it’s such a pretty head, baby.”

Such a pretty head SUCH A PRETTY HEAD – 

“I’ll show you – ow, Robin, seriously?” Steve yelps at Robin’s pinch.

“Stop being horny and help me get him on the bed.”

“I’m - ”

“Don’t listen to her baby, please, please stay horny, and lose the shirt while you’re at it!” Eddie sits up and starts frantically grasping at Steve’s sleeves. “Christ almighty, these arms, arms of heaven, arms of an angel - ” 

“Steve!” Robin barks and shit, he needs to focus. He takes advantage of the fact that Eddie let go of his hand to grab at his shirt and darts down to the other end of the gurney. They lift on a count of three, placing Eddie onto the bed and kicking the wheeled cart out of the way. (Eddie makes a loud WHEEEEEEEEE sound and then immediately goes back to demanding that Steve get naked.) Sarah, who’s followed the procession the entire time, grabs the empty cart and wheels it out of the room just as Brenda steps in.

“Well then, Eddie, let’s get started on intake,” Brenda nods, bringing out her iPad. “Are you ready to answer a few questions?”

“No.”

Robin groans and steps to the side, energetically fluffing and reorganizing Eddie’s pillows so he’s seated up. Somehow Eddie is able to lean around Robin’s wide-armed movements and fix Brenda with yet another piercing glare.

Brenda shoots Steve a look before nodding her head at Eddie.

Right.

“Hey, uh, Eddie, we really need to ask you a few questions - ”

“Hand!” Eddie snaps to look at Steve and sticks his hand towards him. He wiggles his fingers a few times before making a grabby motion. “Hand!”

It’s not cute. It’s totally not cute.

Steve sighs but walks back around from the foot of the bed and places his hand gently in Eddie’s. Eddie links their fingers and squeezes tightly. “Uh, how about now, is now okay to ask a few questions?”

Huffing, Eddie looks at their fingers for a few moments before looking upwards at Steve. Their eyes meet and he grins. “Hi angel,” he lets out a pleased sigh. “I missed you.”

Don’t say it don’t say it DON’T SAY IT - 

“I missed you too, Eds.” 

FUCK.

“Awwwww, my little schmoopers are being all schmoopy-moopy!” Robin sings in her best baby voice. (That’s it, he’s eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.)

“I’m eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.”

“Uh, like fuck you are.”

“I'd rather have you eat me,” he hears Eddie whisper and yeah, okay, that’s one he’s just going to choose to ignore for the sake of what little sanity he has left.

“Right, okay,” he hears Brenda try to get things back on track. “About those intake questions - ”

“Oh, don’t worry Nurse Brenda,” the lilting voice of Dr. Suzie Henderson floats into the room. “I can take it from here.”

Steve turns just in time to see Suzie strut into the emergency suite. She shoots Brenda a grateful nod and Brenda, with one last wink to Steve, hands her iPad off to Suzie and heads out of the room. 

“Bye Steve!”

“Bye Brenda.”

“Yeah, bye Brittany!”

Suzie has the best laugh in the world, and she lets it fly on her walk over. “Hey Steve,” Suzie grins at him as she makes her way towards the foot of Eddie’s bed. “How are things going today?”

“Oh, good,” Steve replies quickly before turning to look at Eddie. “Eddie, this is Doctor Suzie Henderson, she’s my sister-in-law.”

Eddie slowly scooches his butt backwards so he’s sitting up more. “No, she’s our sister-in-law,” he huffs before turning and smiling at Suzie. “Hey sis!” 

“And you must be Eddie! I heard you were thinking about marrying into the family.” She lets out a quick giggle at those words but then clears her throat and throws her shoulders back. “Well, if you are serious about joining our Steve in holy – or unholy – matrimony - ”

“Fuck yeah,” he hears Eddie whisper.

“ – then I’m going to need you to answer a few questions.”

“Proceed, milady.” Eddie starts gently caressing Steve’s hand with his fingers. Steve shoots a look at Robin, who makes exaggeratedly sappy faces while glancing between Steve and their intertwined fingers.

(Forget the Chunky Monkey, he’s eating all of the ice cream they have left tonight.)

“Full name?”

“Edward Anthony Munson.”

“Age?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Name of your emergency contact?”

“Oh, that would be Uncle Wayne and Chrissy! Baby, you’re going to love Wayne,” Eddie says, turning to gaze lovingly up at Steve. “And he’s going to love you! Not as much as I love you though, that’s impossible.”

(Steve’s pretty sure that Bambi eyes here is the impossible one.)

“Great, is Wayne and Chrissy’s contact information in your medical file?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie replies dreamily, still gazing at Steve. 

“Okay, speaking of your file,” Suzie taps at her iPad, “any major events in your medical history that we should know about?”

“Hmmm?” 

He can feel it on his face, he can feel his stupid grin on his stupid face, but he chooses to instead focus on helping Eddie pay attention. “She wants to know if there’s major health events in your past that we need to know about, Bambi.”

“Bambi?”

“BAMBI?!” Robin squeaks after Eddie.

Shit shit SHIT -

“I mean - ”

“Bambi,” Eddie hums, blinking rapidly as he slumps back against his pillows. Once he's settled, he tosses his free hand across his forehead and moans happily. “He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, HE LOVES MEEEEEE - ”

Don’t blush DO NOT BLUSH BODY STOP BLUSHING

“Oh my god that was amazing, I have literally never seen you this red, you look like an actual tomato. Oh my god, I have to tell Nance, like, now.”

“Right, yes, okay Bambi,” Suzie interrupts with a snicker, “like Steve said, is there anything we need to know?”

“Well, we’re in love,” Eddie sighs, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Stevie’s hand. “I think I’m still a little high but it’s only weed, I’ve definitely stopped doing cocaine since, like, five months ago. No need to worry about that, angel,” Eddie pats the top of Steve’s hand.

“Yeah, no, I definitely won’t worry about that.” (He’s definitely going to worry about that.)

“Well, thank you for your honesty, Eddie. I’m going to take a closer look at your files once we get them just to get a better picture of your overall health before we run our tests. Now, second set of questions,” Suzie loudly taps and drags a new window on her tablet open. “What is your annual income?”

(Huh. That’s weird. Steve’s doesn't think he's ever heard any of the nurses ask that question before.)

Eddie snorts out a laugh. “God, I make so much money. A fucking stupid amount of money.”

“You have something in way of a retirement plan then?”

“Doc, I could retire for, like, the next five hundred million years.”

Susie hums as she makes a note. “Do you have anything against sharing resources with your romantic partner?”

(Okay, Steve definitely hasn't heard anyone else ask these questions before.)

“Nah!” Eddie scoffs before gently tugging on Steve’s hand to get his attention. “You’ll be the hottest trophy wife, babe. Do you have an apron? I’m going to buy you an apron.”

“And what are your feelings on children?”

“Kids? I love kids. Is he good with kids? I bet he’s good with kids,” Eddie rushes out. “Fuck, you’re going to look so hot pregnant, baby.”

Robin makes a loud barfing noise which Suzie naturally ignores. “What exactly are you looking for in a relationship?”

“Suzie - ”

“Him! My angel,” Eddie slumps to the side so he’s leaning up against Steve’s hip. “I want to wrap him up in a warm towel and keep him forever and make sweet, sweet love to him under the - ”

“OKAY, next question please,” Robin loudly cuts him off.

“So what you’re saying is you’re looking for a committed relationship with Steve,” Suzie ignores Robin's dramatics. “Are you prepared for lifelong monogamy?”

“Absolutely.”

“Suz - ”

“And you’ll work every day to be deserving of Steve?”

“For the rest of my life,” Eddie proclaims and fuck, he actually sounds serious. He actually looks serious too.

Huh.

Suzie quietly observes him for a moment before her face relaxes into a warm smile. “I believe you. Now, dealbreakers. What are your opinions on outdoor weddings? Steve gets scared in churches.”

“What?!” Eddie gasps, snapping back to Steve.

“SUZ – what, no, I’m not afraid of churches - ”

“Uh yeah you are, you said that every time you visit one you get nightmares about being sacrificed on an altar,” Robin chimes in.

“Gee, thanks, Robin.”

“Baby, baby, don’t worry, I’d never let them sacrifice you,” Eddie tries to comfort Steve, but everything that’s happened in the last thirty seconds – hell, the last thirty minutes – is starting to finally sink in and yeah, okay, there’s an obscenely hot and rich and famous rockstar telling Steve that he loves him and sure, he’s partially concussed but the joke isn’t ending, he’s acting like he’s serious and they’ve only exchanged like maybe twenty words total but he’s acting like this is actually happening and what if it actually could – 

“Shoot, we’re going to have to wrap it up here, loverboy,” Robin waylays his runaway thoughts as her beeper goes off. “We’ve got a fainter with a broken nose."

“Okay, okay.” Steve shakes his head and tries to gently extract his hand from Eddie’s grasp but Eddie lurches at the feeling of Steve moving his hands and whines, digging his finger into Steve’s hand.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

“But – no, angel, please,” he blubbers before turning his eyes on Steve and –

Oh.

Oh no.

They’re even bigger and shinier when he’s crying.

“I’m sorry, Bambi,” he replies totally deliberately, “but I’ve got to go finish my shift. I’ll come back when I’m done, okay?”

Eddie sniffles, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay,” he whimpers sadly, and – look, this joke isn't really joking anymore so if Eddie's gonna go all the way, he might as well go all the way too.

He leans forward and presses a quick kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. “Be good for Suzie, okay?” As he draws back, he glances back down at Eddie. Eddie is blinking dazedly at Steve, all glassy-eyed and rosy.

“Wow,” Eddie whispers, and while the smile that appears on his face is small, it’s the warmest one Steve has seen yet. “Whatever you say, baby.”

“Right, right.” Steve nods and then pivots, making a hasty retreat out of the room.

“Later, Bambi,” Robin sings behind him, and then she’s quick on Steve’s heels. The hall’s crowded, though, so they aren’t fast enough to escape the start of Suzie and Eddie’s conversation. 

(“So, outdoor wedding? Maybe in spring?”

“Can it be in Hobbiton?”

“Uh, it better be in Hobbiton!”)

“I’m kinda surprised to see you staking your claim already, dingus,” Robin says, thrusting the portable gurney mat into Steve’s arms as they walk. “I was worried I’d have to make you.”

“I shouldn't have done that. I mean, he’s a patient, Robin!”

“Not anymore, he’s not!” Robin gently bumps his hip. “He's not your patient anymore so now we need to start planning your next move. I mean, he’s obviously going to say yes when you ask him out, but it still needs to be smooth.”

“What – I’m Steve Harrington, I’m always smooth.”

Robin is purposely silent.

“Okay, first of all, rude,” he says after giving her plenty of time to politely agree. “Second of all, even if I did decide to make a move, there actually isn’t a guarantee he’d say yes. Even if he wasn't just doing this because he's heavily concussed, I’ve hardly talked to the guy!”

“I know, he has no idea how much of a dork you are, it’s great.”

Steve offers Robin a hand as he climbs into the ambulance. (Not without shooting her a look once they're both seated, of course because again, rude.) 

Robin shrugs Steve's frown off. “Look, dingus, I know you think that you have all these great lines or whatever - ”

“Uh, I don’t think, I do have them - ”

“ – but they’re, like, obviously lines. Whatever you say to him has to be more real. He needs to know that if he says yes, he’s going to be going on a date with a guy that has the ooiest, gooiest, squishiest little itty bitty heart!” She squeezes her hands together like she’s holding Steve’s heart in her hands (which definitely isn’t concerning given the fact that she’s technically a medical professional who knows just how vulnerable that particular organ is.)

“Robs - ”

“ITTY BITTY!” She kisses the tips of her fingers. “And that’s why we gotta plan, doinkus. Edward Anthony Munson needs to be constantly conscious of the fact that he’s dating the best guy on the entire planet because you are, Steve, you are the best guy on Earth and you deserve a Prince Charming even though the Prince Charming archetype is totally outdated and part of a patriarchal initiative to establish systematic gender dynamics - ”

Well, shucks. Maybe Robin doesn’t hate him after all.

“ - doesn't exist, its still what you deserve. But more importantly than that, if Eddie does start dating you, then I have a better shot of getting him to introduce me to Chris Hemsworth.”

“Chris Hemsworth?"

“Uh, yeah.”

"Chris Hemsworth - Chris Hemsworth? Out of every famous person Eddie could hypothetically introduce you to, you'd want to meet Chris Hemsworth?"

"Well, yeah," Robin takes a brief sip of her water before shooting Steve a playful smirk. “I mean, as great as you are, I wouldn't be opposed to upgrading my emotional support himbo.”

Never mind, she’s evil incarnate.

(And she’s going to be out of Chunky Monkey in about five hours.)

Tags list: @piratefishmama @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @noxturnallyevermore @little-trash-ghost @justforthedead89 @mmmmwaffles94 @omletlove @lostonceandneverfound @sweetwaterangel @punctualhowell @sapphirecobalt-1 @kedtheduck @lunesispunk @mrs-dr-reid @clockworkballerina @stayonmars @maya-custodios-dionach @kahri1 @renaissan-vvitch @xwildangel @sweetarts116 @musical-theatre-gay @ladylokilaufeyson5 @ellietheasexylibrarian @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @designatedgrape @steddiesoulmates @starlightshadowsworld @inmoonywetrust @hellfire--cult @singmeyoursimpsong @sleepdeprivedflower @loserhotline @m-owo-n @magpiemuseum

[infinite-orangepeel]

my two moods are:

1. steve harrington has final girl energy and nothing can kill him

and

2. steve harrington is destined to die a tragic and martyrous death and i will never be okay again

[shushmal]

steve wearing a shirt that says dingus

eddie wearing a shirt that says doofus

on the back 'if lost, return to robin'

robin's shirt says 'i'm robin WHERE IS MY DINGUS AND DOOFUS???'

[catharusustulatus]

Better jobs for Steve than being a cop: teacher, counselor, bartender, florist, librarian assistant, garden section associate, dog walker (dog groomer canon?), grocery store manager, food pantry helper, seasonal worker as a Santa’s elf….

[slashergirlnancy]

stancy + Scream AU

[yesimwriting]

⋆｡°✩ yesimwriting's masterlist⋆｡°✩

Below the cut is a full list of all my work :) (updated 10-10-23)

*pls limit interactions if you’re a pro ED/ana acc :)*

SCREAM 1996

Final Girl 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 

Chapter 5

Chapter 6 

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 

Chapter 10

To be continued.

Final Girl fic-verse:

First Impressions 

Sick Day

———————

Final Girl fic-verse blurbs:

Drunk Y/N 

Stu saying the L word

Billy saying the L word

Little Rituals  

Time of Need

Talking about Y/N

Stu’s thoughts about Y/N and POV

Gingerbread

Billy Loomis x S/O with Panic attacks 

Stu waiting for Y/N and Casual Intimacy

 Billy and Stu with S/O who cries a lot 

Billy and Stu Scaring Guys Away

People noticing their friendship 

Driving with Stu 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SCREAM VI 

Ethan Landry 

One of Them

Ask about Ethan 

Noticing they like Y/N

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LAST OF US 

Joel Miller

First Rule

What Follows

Y/N gets hit on - Protective Joel 

Purpose 

Pulling Away

Pulling Away similar story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

STAR WARS 

Anakin 

More Than This 

Promise

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AMERICAN HORROR STORY 

Tate Langdon 

Modern day fic

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DC TITANS 

Jason Todd

Resurgence 

Slow Nights

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ELVIS THE MOVIE

Business Practical

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

STRANGER THINGS 

Steve Harrington

Movie Club

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Times Have Changed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DAREDEVIL

48 Hours

Chapter 1

A Red Widow

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SPIDER-MAN 

This Time it’s Different 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

TASM Peter 

Domestic Assertiveness 

Hobbie Brown 

Ask about Hobbie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YOU

Bloodroot in the Suburbs 

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Babysitter 

Chapter 2: Kill Habits, Not people 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SIX OF CROWS SERIES:

Searing Starlight

Searing Starlight Chapter 1

Searing Starlight Chapter 2

Searing Starlight Chapter 3

To be continued.

—————-

Kaz Brekker:

Blurb series: The Promise of Rain (i define a blurb series' as a series with shorter chapters where each chapter correlates but can technically be read as a stand alone)

The Promise of Rain (blurb 1).

The Promise of Rain (blurb 2).

The Promise of Rain (blurb 3)

To be continued.

—————

Falling Angels:

Falling Angels Chapter 1

Falling Angels Chapter 2

To be continued.

———

Anastasia (Prologue) 

Bookworm reader 

A Knife in the Back

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SHADOW AND BONE:

The Darkling:

Solace (part 1)

Solace (part 2).

———————

To Be Alone (smut).

Solutions

All the Good Dreams (might be getting a part 2)

—————

The Needs of Pain (part 1)_

The Needs of Pain (part 2, smut).

—————-

Corridor Moments

darkling x shy! reader HC

Comforting the darkling HC

Playing Vices

Darkling x anxious! Reader

Kirigan x Soft Girls/Similar personality 

Crossing Lines 

Darkling x Pregnant! Reader 

Possessive/Breeding 

Nikolai Lantsov:

Tranquility.

Handmaid reader x nikolai. childhood best friends to 

lovers fic

Enemies to lovers Nikolai HC (i'm thinking of making a series based on this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SHADOW AND BONE X SIX OF CROWS:

The Problem With Light Chapter One

To be continued.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RED QUEEN:

Maven Calore:

Dying Starlight

[corrodedcoughin]

Mr Clarke coming back in s5 to help and ends up spending his time with one Mr Wayne Munson in an effort to find Eddie because if there’s no body Wayne isn’t giving up.

Hard cut to Eddie being carried back through a portal by Steve and seeing Mr Clarke together, and he whispers to Steve ‘I think Mr Clarke fucked my uncle’ and passes out

[blueeandyellowmakesgreen]

yall know i love my ronance content but a part of me is also really happy for nancy for finally having a platonic girl friend her age. i imagine ever since barb, shes had a lot of walls she had to put up, and maybe robin practically tearing it down and letting herself in is just what she needed and wanted, so nancy just.. let her. idk im looking forward to more of them in the next season. nancy deserves that

[imthursdaysyme]

When you need to match your husband so you buy an array of headbands that match all his shirts

[libraryofgage]

Final Girl Steve Snippet!

Anyway I've been decomposing lately but I've been working on fics I promise hfjdks

As proof, here's a little snippet from the next part of Final Girl Steve! It features everyone's favorite boy: Dart

If you see any typos, no you didn't :^)

Images of digging, of how far the tunnels extend, of where they’re planning to dig next fill Dart’s head as they walk. The tunnels seem to run under most of the town, and his siblings seem intent on expanding the system beyond the town itself. When he tries to figure out why, exactly, his siblings are so intent on digging this tunnel, his sibling doesn’t have an answer.  The clearest explanation it can give Dart is that the master wants them to, and they don’t question or deny the master’s wants. Dart thinks that’s odd and offers a few memories of himself questioning and denying the mother’s requests. He doesn’t include the mother’s reactions to those instances (most include being put in time out, grounded, or given such a disappointed look that Dart had withered into an agreeable puddle) because the most important part of the memories is that Dart could and did question and deny. His sibling still seems confused by the idea, but it seems to understand a little better now. It switches focus, though, noticing the father in the background of some of the memories. The next images pushed through to Dart are the blurry forms of the father, his face indiscernible and his hair a floating brown mass. Dart thinks for a moment, trying to decide what memories would best explain the father and their relationship. He settles on three. The first is Dart’s first view of the father. He’d just been born, barely more than a writhing mass of confusion and warmth in the mother’s hands, when he’d been held up and presented to the father. He and the father had stared at each other before the father turned away, took a few steps down the hall, and then walked right back to ask the mother, “Stevie, sweetheart, baby, my muse, what the fuck?” The memory is brimming with amusement from both Dart and the mother whenever they look back on it. The second is more like a montage of memories. It’s a collage of the father sneaking food to Dart behind the mother’s back, flashing a conspiratorial grin or winking at Dart or whispering to keep it a secret from the mother. These memories are tinged with flavor and the excitement of getting away with something ultimately harmless. The final memory is more recent, from the past month. Dart is wandering the house, about to find the mother when he’s scooped off the ground and his sides are tickled. Dart wiggles and squirms, a stuttered hissing escaping him until the father finally stops. “Just you and me for a bit, demobaby,” the father whispers, carrying Dart into the living room. Once he’s on the couch, the father places Dart on his shoulder and cracks open a book. “Stevie is sleeping off a migraine, so we’re gonna stay nice and quiet and not bother him and just read together.” The father waits for Dart to settle, curled against his neck and covered by a blanket of the father’s hair, before he starts reading. This memory floats in comfort and warmth, a shared care for the mother and the soft whisper of the father’s voice.

[strangersatellites]

pride, envy, wrath, sloth, gluttony, greed, ao3

Seven Deadly Sins Series (NSFW 18+)

lust (noun) - a shortcut to sexual fulfillment, but it doesn’t actually get you there. When you lust after someone, you are objectifying that person for your own selfish pleasure. 

The summer heat beats down with a strength that must rival that straight out of Hell, Eddie thinks. 

The thermometer Wayne keeps on the porch outside reading somewhere between ninety degrees and the devil’s asscrack and Eddie can feel all of it. 

Sweat rolling down his spine even where he’s sat in the shade, sunglasses and baseball cap on and a glass of ice water pressed to the back of his neck. 

You couldn’t pay him enough money to set foot in the grass, to feel the sun hit his skin and start burning it instantly.

The only thing keeping him even outside is Steve. 

Steve who is washing his car like it's the most important job he’ll ever have. He’s paying attention to details that Eddie’s never even noticed, let alone noticed were clean.

But that’s not what Eddie’s paying attention to anyway is it?

No. There might be one thing in the steamy July air that is hotter than the sun, and it's the thoughts running through Eddie’s head. There’s nothing cool about those. 

See, Eddie’s covered in a layer of grime and his hair has gone frizzy and he’s sprawled across the couch in a way he knows makes him look less like a man and more like a deflated balloon.

But despite the heat, Steve looks like a vision.

He’s got on a tight little pair of cut-off shorts that do absolute wonders for his thighs. 

He’s ripped the sleeves off and cropped one of Eddie’s old band shirts, a white one at that, and Eddie’s eyes can trail all the way from his shoulder to his happy trail, view unobstructed. 

He’s got his hair pushed back with a pair of sunglasses that started on his eyes but were apparently hindering his vision too much. Whatever. Eddie’s not complaining. He looks sexy with his hair pushed back.

It started out innocent enough. With Eddie mentally making a note to tell him he looks cute the next time he’s close enough to the porch.

But that was before he took a break from scrubbing to douse himself under the hose. 

Because now Eddie’s old, white band shirt is stuck to his skin like glue. Like it was painted on just for him. Eddie loves Steve’s strong arms, he does. But he’s never going to pass up an opportunity to watch the way the muscles in his back ripple under his skin. The “Metallica” stretched across his shoulders is just icing on the cake.

When faced with the wrath of the sun, Eddie’s skin turns pink and tender. But Steve goes a beautiful warm golden and his freckles seem to multiply. 

Right now Eddie’s eyes are glued to Steve’s legs. The way his muscles go taut when he squats down to scrub at his hubcaps. If he squints hard enough against the harsh afternoon light, Eddie can almost make out the indentions of his own teeth on the underside of his thigh. The fading purple bruise he’d sucked into soft skin, sweaty for an entirely different reason. 

He thinks of the way he’s made those strong legs tremble and shake. The way he’s had them wrapped around his waist, his head. 

Steve shifts and sits on the grass, leans back on both of his hands and throws his head back with a sigh. Eddie’s gaze gets redirected to the shirt clinging to his chest, his soft, but still strong tummy. 

He wants to lick his collarbones and leave bruises on his neck. More bruises, that is. There’s already a few mottled across his skin because Eddie just can’t help himself. How could he? How could anybody help themselves with Steve in their lap whimpering their name like a prayer? Eddie gave up trying to hold back a long time ago. 

When his eyes come back into focus Steve is stretching to reach across his windshield, back muscles stretched long and strong. If Eddie closes his eyes he can imagine the feeling of the welts he’d left across his skin. Claw marks drug all the way down his back. Can almost imagine the feeling that elicited them. The groan he’d pulled out of his boy in turn. 

Eddie snaps his eyes open and is met with Steve’s lazy smile looking his way and he really can’t be blamed for the heat it sends dipping into his stomach and the strained huff he grits out. 

The way Steve throws his head back again, this time in a laugh at Eddie’s distress, doesn’t help his case. 

It gets the worst though, when Steve sets to detailing the hood. 

Now he’s got his back directly facing Eddie. He’s bent over at the waist, hips popped back and his spine dipped low and Eddie’s not a praying man, he’s not. 

But he’s about to send up one of gratitude because sometimes he can hardly believe Steve’s his. 

And Eddie’s not stupid. He knows Steve’s onto him. He knows because he’d laughed. Because he’s peeking over his shoulder every few seconds to see if Eddie’s eyes are still on him. He knows because he’s tugged his little shorts up enough that the crease of his ass and his thighs sits right below the frayed denim hem. 

There might’ve been a time where Eddie would’ve tried valiantly to redirect his train of thought. To stop himself from making a fool of himself. But now Steve’s his boyfriend. And Steve knows Eddie’s thinking about getting him naked more often than he’s not these days. He’s just as bad. 

So Eddie lets himself sink into it. Into the visions of the bounce of Steve’s cheeks when Eddie smacks him. Of the tiny freckle just shy of his hole and how he loves to sink his teeth around it. The tiny heart tattoo on the back of his right hip that Steve totally should not have let Eddie give him, but they both love nonetheless.  

He thinks about the way his normally strong voice, breaks and goes soft when Eddie fucks him. The way he squirms when he rides Eddie’s face. 

The goosebumps that break out across his skin on the comedown and his glassy eyes and soft smile. 

His eyes are wide open but he’s so lost in the memory of his boy’s ass pulled against his hips that he misses when Steve stops washing his car and climbs the steps of the porch. Doesn’t see him until he feels his weight drop down across his lap and hears Steve ask what he’s thinking about in a sultry whisper.

So Eddie really doesn’t feel all that bad about his thoughts burning hotter than the summer sun when he says, “Nothing, baby. Just you.”

[stilesgrace159]

I need a steddie horror/slasher au styled similar to Halloween. Babysitter Final Girl Steve Harrington fighting off a stalker serial killer. (Spoiler alert- it's Eddie). Bloody romance ensues.

(Please, I'm desperate! Someone roleplay this with me 😭🙏)

[ladamarossa]

Deadly Games (1982)

[finalgirleddiemunson]

Don’t Mention It (Steve Harrington x Reader)

summary: some mornings are bad mornings, and they’re filled with memories. Steve and you work through them together. (wc 1.3k)

warnings: angst, past trauma mentions, non-sexual nudity

a/n: had a moment where i thought about how how everything that steve has gone through often gets played for laughs and got so upset i wrote this. it kinda reads more loose than a typical narrative structure, my b

masterlist

----

Steve showers in the morning. 

In high school, he used to shower at night. To wash the pool chlorine and layers of the day off of his skin. 

But then things went bump in the night too often, too frequently. You and him both know now that the darkness can hide something more than bad dreams or phantasmal shapes. 

Sometimes it’s difficult to fall asleep tucked into bed safe and sound. Much less be vulnerable and relaxed underneath the shower- where the stream of water hitting against the tile blocks the noise of something that could be creeping nearby.

So, yes. Steve showers in the morning now. You don’t mention it. 

Just like he doesn’t mention how you check the doors and windows twice every night, flipping locks back and forth that you know were already secured but you just had to be sure. One last time. 

He leans on the doorway to the kitchen of your shared apartment and watches you go through your routine every night though. He’s gotten used to reassuring you beneath the covers that Yes, baby, you locked the windows. I watched you do it, I promise. You can go to sleep. 

Just like he doesn’t mention how you keep his old bat placed under the bed, in the same way that old lovers place dried roses or sleeping satchels filled with herbs beneath pillows. An extra omen that helps you both sleep. 

It’s the sound of the water running that wakes you, as it does most mornings. 

The bathroom door is open, letting the steam from the shower spill out and into the bedroom, carrying with it that clean and cologne-like smell of Steve’s body wash. 

As you wake, scrubbing sleep from your eyes and wetting dry lips, you come into awareness slowly. There’s a distinct lack of humming coming from the bathroom this morning. 

Another thing you don’t mention- the sign of a storm that only you know how to navigate. 

On the good days, Steve sings. When you first got together, you imagined that Steve would sing off-tune and loudly, a joke played for laughs. Your years together have found you pleasantly wrong in that assumption. In the confines of your shared bathroom, Steve sings like he was always meant to do it- perfect pitch and everything. It only makes you slightly envious at times.

But, most of the time he hums. Little tunes, songs he’s heard on the radio, whatever is stuck in his head. He scrubs shampoo from his hair and hums the song that was playing over his car radio when he asked you to be his girlfriend, or the song you danced to in the kitchen last night, or some new rock song that Dustin showed him that Steve swears he hates. The point of the matter is, most of the time Steve hums. 

On the bad days, there’s silence. Music does not drift out with the steam from the shower, only quiet. 

The lack of music today fills your lungs, viscous and hefty in its meaning. 

You pad to the bathroom and make your steps purposefully heavy. I’m here, it’s just me. You make sure the hinges squeak as you push the door open unnecessarily wider. Don’t worry, don’t be scared. I’m not sneaking up on you, nothing is here. 

You run the water in the sink, brush your teeth and make a big show of it even though the curtain on the shower is still closed. You do this on the bad days. Hedge in closer, palms open, slow and steady. 

When you’ve drawn out your morning routine as long as you can is when you finally speak. “Good morning, honey.”

It takes a moment, but the quiet croak of Steve’s voice rings out above the running water, “Morning, sweetheart.”

You wait, give him the opportunity to say anything else before you take your next step. “Do you mind if I join you?” You keep your tone light, as though the idea just occurred to you. As though this isn’t, in itself, a part of the routine that both of you play. 

“Please,” Steve responds and the cracked relief in his voice spurs you into action. 

You don’t bother to gather your shed clothes and place them out of the way. You just pull them off and drop them onto the tile as quickly as you’re able. 

When you step into the temporary sauna that Steve has made with the scalding water, you’re met with the sight of his back. The tan expanse of skin, dotted with freckles and moles that you’ve traced over a thousand times, now with water cascading down the muscles. 

Your first touch is just your fingertips along his arm. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. 

And when his shoulders crumple in on themselves just a little at the touch, you’re quick to curl your hand around his bicep, turning him in place to face you. 

You tuck yourself into the space beneath his chin, let his wet hair rain droplets down onto the top of your head and your shoulders. His body shields you from the brunt of the shower, but you hope that between you and the heat of the water he can find something to ground him. You splay your hands wide against his back as you hug him closer. Come back to me. 

You don’t mention it when he shudders above you, takes in rasping breaths as he presses his face into the top of your head. You just let him cry, swaying gently on your feet to rock him. 

You don’t mention it when the water begins to run colder and colder- until the tears give way to chattering teeth and you take his hands to lead him out of the shower. You set him down and wrap a towel around his body. 

You don’t mention that daylight is streaming in through the windows of your bedroom, that the darkness can’t reach you two here with blue skies and sunshine at your door. You both know that would be a lie anyways. 

All you can do is hold him. You give him soft clothes, loungewear that he wears around the house, and he dresses himself in mechanical movements. You do your best to keep touching him throughout it all.

“It helps,” He had whispered to you one night when sleep evaded your household. “When I’m like that. Just knowing you’re there. It helps.”

You had kissed his collarbone, an acknowledgment of his bravery. “I wish it didn’t get like that,” he murmured into the darkness. 

“I know. But I’ll always be here, when it does. And I know that you’ll be there for me, when I get like that. ” 

He had rubbed a hand up and down your spine at your words, his own acknowledgement. Neither of you slept much that night. 

Now, even with the cheery, morning light coming through the curtains, you both crawl back beneath the covers. You plaster yourself against Steve, the length of your body fitted against his. You keep a hand against his chest, feel the steady thump of his heartbeat under your palm. 

Hear this thing? You want to scream to the sky, to the Upside Down, to every last thing that made him scared of the dark. It means that Steve Harrington is alive, despite it all. And you can’t take him from me. 

Instead you just hold him. 

Steve returns to his body slowly, pieces clicking into place until at last the grip he has around you tightens with awareness. His muscles uncoil, a recognition of his safety. 

“I love you,” He says.

“I love you more.”

You don’t mention that you already know his response-

“Not possible.”