#gareth au

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Rising rockstar Eddie sees Steve at one of their shows and falls for him hard and fast.

Little does he know, Steve is also moderately famous...he's in a boy band. Imagine something like Backstreet Boys or NSYNC.

Jeff knows. Gareth knows. Freak knows.

Eddie doesn't, and Steve doesn't tell him. No one tells him.

They walk past a billboard with Steve's band, and Eddie squints at it. "Hey. That guy looks like you!"

And Steve just laughs, "haha, yep, sure does! So where are we eating, babe?"

People don't recognize Steve much on the street because he dresses differently in real life. So Eddie is blissfully oblivious to the true nature of his boyfriend while CC and all their friends make bets.

And he always bitches when CC hum Steve's band's most recent hits. "Really, Gareth? Pop? Traitor."

But the second he learns who Steve is in his professional life, he sits down, listens to their whole discography, and actually memorizes some of the songs, because pop or not, his boyfriend is a pro, he's really good at what he does, and then he makes CC record a cover of his favorite Steve song (and also maybe because Steve tells him he composed some of it, and Eddie's so proud).

From that point, if someone shit talks pop in his presence, he frowns at them and says: "I'll have you know, my boyfriend's in a boy band! And you wish you were as successful as him, you sorry excuse for a musical elitist."

[wynnyfryd]

Steve’s drunk and sad at a party and doom-swiping through Tinder when he comes across this profile:

Eddie, 21

guitarist, dm, dipshit, six time ass eating world champ 💪 🌎 my friends call me Eds, but you can call me Daddy

“What the fuck?” Steve laughs to himself. First time he’s really laughed all night, actually; this party kinda blows.

He slinks down further into the couch, takes another sip of hunch punch and tilts his phone so no one sees him swiping right on this shit. It’s obnoxious. Like, objectively. He’s just…

Bored.

And curious. Surely that bio has never actually worked for the guy, right?

Steve swipes.

It’s a match.

He snorts to himself again, sends a message before he can overthink it.

Steve: Hey, Eds. That’s kind of a bold move, isn’t it?

Message sent, he goes to back out of the app; doesn’t really expect an answer this close to midnight on a Saturday night — only losers use Tinder at this time of night, and what the fuck does that make him? — but then Eddie starts typing.

Eddie: hey, cutie :) what is?

Steve: Uhh…

Jesus. Why is he blushing? He’s not the one who wrote a wildly aggressive hookup bio. Guy might as well have sharpied DTF on his forehead.

Steve: Your bio? 🫣

Eddie: huh?

Eddie: i mean, dnd can get a little spicy on occasion but i’d hardly call it scandalous

Steve: What’s that?

Is it a sex thing? It’s probably a sex thing.

Eddie: okay, what?

Steve: What? I’m so confused lol

Eddie must be, too, because it takes him a few seconds to answer, and when he does he just says:

Eddie: hold pls

Steve holds. Takes a big gulp of his drink and winces; pretty much all vodka at the bottom.

Eddie is typing and then he isn’t, then he is again and then he’s not, and Steve frowns at his empty cup and wonders if he’s already fucked up the one interesting thing that’s happened to him all night.

Finally, finally, a new message pops up.

Eddie: ………god. DAMN it, Gareth 😤😤😤😤

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 20

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19

Chrissy is willing to admit that when Steve doesn’t call her after his date, she panics. If her mom wasn’t such a light sleeper, she would’ve snuck out to check up on him. But instead, she wallows, dozing on the couch, not even able to call Jeff to bitch because what if Steve chooses that moment to call?

So, she can admit, when he finally calls a few minutes after seven in the morning, she’s a little short with him.

“Finally, Steven,” she hisses into the phone, keeping her voice quiet so as not to alert her mother to their conversation. “I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he rushes out, sounding contrite. “We sort of fell asleep.”

Chrissy gasps, a smile slowly spreading on her face as the implications set in. “You guys slept together?” she demands gleefully.

“We didn’t have sex!” he shouts, and she’s glad, for the first time, that his parents are so absent from his everyday life. “We just fell asleep!”

She’s still smiling, twirling the phone cord round and round her fingers. “Does that mean it went well?” she wheedles.

She doesn’t think that Eddie would suddenly realize he’s straight and renege on the date, not really, but Steve had, and she can’t get the terrified tone of his voice out of her head.

“Well—” he drawls, leaving her on tenterhooks for a few seconds more. “He took me to see some shitty horror movie.”

“Oh my god,” she whispers, full-on grinning now. “What a stereotypical move.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he replies so wryly that she can almost see the way his eyes must be rolling. “Except he barely talked to me the whole time and didn’t even try to hold my hand.”

“No!”

“And then he took me into the woods like some sort of serial killer, and then tried to kiss me so abruptly that my lip split a little.”

“No!” she shrieks with laughter before catching herself and slapping a palm over her own mouth as Steve’s own amused chuckle filters through the phone line. “And you still spent the night?”

“He was nervous!” Steve defended. “And besides, the second kiss was much better.”

“Your boy’s a fast learner, huh?”

Steve hums, and she wishes he was here with her, so she could see the dopey grin that must be on his face as he says, “yeah,” with a dreamy sigh. “He took me stargazing.”

Chrissy coos, can’t help it, not when this whole thing’s been building for so long now. Not when there’s been an edge of fear to everything Steve’s said for months. He deserves something nice for once.

“And you’re going out again?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replies, and a knot of fear she’s had tucked beneath her sternum loosens.

He sounds excited, happy, hopeful. If Eddie does anything to jeopardize this, Chrissy will be digging a very deep hole and tossing him into it. She’s got a shovel, and the muscle strength built up from years of cheer—she’ll manage just fine.

So, when Eddie walks up to her in the cafeteria in some sort of fucked up parallel to that first time and bends at the waist in a showy bow, hand outstretched as he asks, “a word, madam?” she’s ready to kill him.

But, when she glances at Steve at her side, his ears are red, and he’s smiling up at Eddie from beneath his lashes. And when she looks back toward Eddie she catches the tail-end of a wink that has Steve sputtering.

Even Jason doesn’t protest from the other side of the table where he’s quietly seething.

So, she takes his hand and follows him out of the cafeteria.

Eddie doesn’t seem to know where he’s going, as he walks through the halls, peering into nooks and crannies until he finds a corner he deems suitably vacant enough. He flops down, legs outstretched in front of him, uncaring of the dirt caking the floor.

He pats the spot next to him, smiling up at her, so she slides down the wall and crouches beside him, unwilling to let her bare legs touch the floor.

Eddie leans away from the wall and wrestles his jacket off before placing it on the floor in front of Chrissy. Gratefully, she sits atop it, crossing her legs to keep them safe. She turns her body so she’s facing Eddie dead on, and he follows her lead.

When he doesn’t say anything, she breaks the silence with a quiet, “I hope you know that if you hurt my friend, I’ll kill you.”

“I have no doubt, Lady Cunningham,” Eddie replies, drawing an X across his heart with his finger. “But, I’m not here to talk about Steve.”

“Then—what?”

He’s grimacing now, no longer meeting her eyes as he fiddles with his rings, one of his fingers bizarrely missing its usual adornment. “We’re friends, right?” he asks hesitantly, like he’s choosing each word with deliberate care.

“Of course,” she replies, eyes trained on the little furrow between his brows. He’s picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans, further fraying the edges. “Why would you ask that?”

He sighs, slumping into himself in a way that makes him look small. “I’m glad I’m here, okay?” he asks, not waiting for her to answer before he continues. “Steve’s great, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. But, you still lied to me—"

"We never lied to you," she cuts in, and he waves his hand in assent.

"Yeah, yeah, but you all like, conspired behind my back, and that feels…”

“Shitty,” she continues for him when he seems to lose his words.

“Yeah! Shitty, it feels shitty that you were all talking about me behind my back all so you could keep this from me."

Chrissy sighs. She’d known they’d have to talk about it eventually–clear all this stale air so they could move on–but it doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. But, he’s right; no matter their intentions, they’d all made a mess of things. She’d known that even as she’d been in the thick of it.

So, she starts where these things should always start, and looks him dead in the eye as she says, “I’m sorry.”

He finally looks up, seeming almost surprised. “Just like that?”

“Yes, Eddie, just like that,” she replies, maintaining eye contact even as her gut squirms. “We were just trying to protect each other, but that doesn’t mean it was the right choice.”

His eyes are wide, still shocked, and she wonders, something uncomfortably close to pity bubbling up within her, if he’s not used to receiving apologies at all.

“Both of you?” he asks.

Chrissy averts her gaze, mouth twisting up. “You know how Steve said Jason has been kind of stalkery?” she asks, watching Eddie nod out of the corner of her eye before she continues. “Well, it was worse before. He kept coming to my house and cornering me at school, and I just wanted to move on.”

It was more than that, though. She still remembers the way fear crept down her spine as cold sweat when she’d opened her door to Jason smiling at her like they’d never broken up, the way her throat had closed up when he’d scooted far too close to her side at the lunch table.

The way he kept cornering her in the hallway when no one was around to witness it. 

“So, when I found Steve trying to write that first letter, I struck a deal,” she continues. She feels bad about that, even now, even still. “He’d be my boyfriend, and I’d help him with the letters.”

She finally turns back to Eddie, braced for, what? Condemnation? But he’s squinting at her like she’s a puzzle he’s trying to crack as he says, “you totally would have helped him anyway,” with so much conviction that it warms her. 

“Oh, definitely.”

He’s still looking at her, but he’s smiling at her, eyes warmer than she’s ever seen them. 

“Alright, I forgive you,” Eddie says, like it’s easy.

It’s too easy. 

“Just because we had reasons doesn’t mean it was fair to you,” she replies, steel in her voice as she squares her shoulders and looks at him dead on. “It doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt,” she finishes, reaching out to pat his knee.

He doesn’t jerk away, just looks at her hand on his knee with a peculiar smile on his face. “You know there was a time when you touching me like that would’ve sent me into a tizzy,” he says, still looking down at her hand.

“And now?”

“Nothing,” he replies, shrugging. “It was never you, Chrissy Cunnigham.”

“You either, Eddie Munson,” she replies, matching his smile as she smacks his hand once before withdrawing. “Now is that it, or was there something else you needed?”

He looks away, cheeks darkening to a blotchy red, she’s almost worried he’ll faint. “I, uh, well, the jacket?”

She thinks of Eddie’s jacket beneath her first, but that’s not where he’s looking. His eyes are planted firmly on the sleeve of Steve’s letterman with a sort of longing that’s almost funny in its intensity.

She doesn’t ask any follow up questions—if he wants the jacket, he can have the jacket. After all, it’s Steve’s no matter how attached to it she’s become, and Steve had looked up at him with the sappiest look she’s ever seen on his face.

She’d do more than give up his letterman to keep him happy.

Still, it feels strange when she pulls it off her back. A shiver runs through her–she feels almost naked without its familiar weight. 

Since that first day in the library, it’s been her shield against Jason’s pushy advances, and her reminder that, no matter what happens, she’d still have Steve. 

But, Jason’s backed off, and everywhere she turns, she sees her people: Steve, yes, but Jeff, and Eddie, and the Hellfire boys–even Robin. Her life’s full to bursting in a way that it’s never been before. 

Chrissy will miss it, but she doesn’t need it anymore. Besides, she knows where Steve keeps his spare key, and she’s not above stealing something else from his closet. 

“Jeff’s going to be sad,” she says, patting the bundled fabric in her arms like it’s a favored family pet, feeling strangely choked up. “He really liked it.”

Eddie grimaces down at it and asks, “do I need to get this thing dry cleaned?”

Chrissy throws her head back and laughs. “No, but if you would’ve waited a few more days, you might have.”

He makes a gagging noise, but when she holds it out for him, he readily takes it, even if he doesn’t put it on. She wonders if it’s fear of homophobes or the thought of her and Jeff’s bodily fluids that stops him. She’s polite enough not to ask, even as Eddie says, “Wait, is it you wearing it or him that Jeff likes?”

She opens her mouth to reply, ready to offer up a vague “both,” but Eddie holds up his hand and cuts her off, talking quickly like he’s afraid of what she might say. “Wait, don’t tell me. I really, really don’t need to know.”

Chrissy springs to her feet and picks Eddie’s own leather jacket up off the floor and sliding it on. It’s even baggier than Steve’s was on her, clearly designed for layering. “I’m borrowing this,” she says, turning her back on him and making her way toward her next class just as the warning bell rings. “It’s cold today.”

“Don’t do any weird sex things with it!” Eddie calls.

She laughs again, making a point to neither confirm nor deny her intentions no matter what he yells after her retreating back.

When Jeff slides into her passenger seat after school, he quirks a brow at her new look, and asks, “that Eddie’s?” as he buckles his seatbelt.

“He wanted Steve’s,” she says, reaching out to pat his knee consolingly.

“I’m going to miss that jacket,” Jeff sighs, looking genuinely forlorn for a second before he gets a particular gleam in his eye that Chrissy’s becoming increasingly familiar with. “You know—”

“Eddie requested that we don’t ‘do any weird sex things’ with his jacket,” she cuts in, putting her car in reverse and slowly backing out of the spot.

Jeff groans like he’d been shot, and throws his head back into the headrest. She reaches out to dig her fingernails into his knee, just this side of too-hard so his groan shifts into a hiss.

“I know, baby,” she says, smiling sweetly at him as they pull away from the school. “But, I’ll get your mind off it in no time.”

Jeff gulps, and doesn’t utter another complaint for the rest of the night.

***

Robin watches Chrissy follow Eddie out of the cafeteria. Even after the door closes behind them, she keeps staring, wanting desperately to know what they’re talking about. This might have all started because of her crush on Chrissy, but Robin’s nosy at heart, so even as the flames of her crush burn down to embers, she wants to know.

Steve had called her on Saturday, spilling all the details of what sounded like a truly horrible date as if it was some sort of fairy tale while Robin cackled in his ear. But he’d sounded buoyant with exhilaration, and all Robin had been able to think about was that he’s like her and he’s happy.

Maybe there’s hope for her, too.

Robin’s broken out of her reverie by a shoulder bumping into hers. “Should we help him?” Vickie whispers, and it takes Robin a minute to snap her eyes away from her vibrant green eyes to follow her gaze over to Steve.

All the losers he’s still pretending to be friends are jeering at him, Tommy H. going so far as to slip into Chrissy’s vacant seat so he can jostle Steve around with a decidedly unfriendly look on his face while Steve picks halfheartedly at his lunch.

Robin’s out of her seat before she can even think about it, palms slapping noisily on the table as she calls. “Harrington!” Steve perks up, metaphorical tail wagging as he meets her eyes from across the room. “Come help me win a bet!”

He’s up and out of his seat in a matter of seconds, leaving the remains of his lunch abandoned on his table as he trots over, slipping into the empty seat across from her while all the other band kids look at him like he’s got the plague.

“What’s the bet?” he asks, looking far more relaxed already than he had while surrounded by his supposed friends.

Robin kicks him under the table as she replies, “the bet was whether you’d come when you’re called.”

“Oh, hardy har har,” he mocks, kicking her right back until she links both her feet around his ankle and yanks him so he damn near falls off his seat.

“Poor little puppy,” she coos, reaching across the table to pat his head while he bats her hand away.

Vickie’s laughing from beside her; it rings through Robin’s ears like church bells. She gets stuck, staring at the pink of her cheeks, the red of her hair, the mirth in her emerald green eyes, hand still outstretched toward Steve’s hair.

He kicks her again, and she snatches her hand back, grateful for the intervention until she catches sight of the knowing look Steve’s shooting her. In retaliation, she grabs one of her carrot sticks and tries to shove it down his throat.

“Not a word, Harrington, or we’re through,” she hisses, finally succeeding in shoving the carrot into his mouth.

“You guys are so funny,” Vickie says, still laughing.

Steve smiles, carrot sticking out of his mouth like it’s a cigar until he bites into it with a snap, seeming oddly satisfied.

Chrissy and Eddie don’t come back, and by the time lunch is over, the rest of the band kids have finally stopped sitting there like scared lemmings, waiting for King Steve Harrington to attack. She’s sure they’ll soon learn what Robin already knows: the king is dead, long live the king.

She loves him so much, it’s almost stupid.

“So, Steve Harrington, huh?” Vickie asks, inexplicably walking out of the cafeteria with her even though Robin knows for a fact her class is on the opposite side of the school.

“I mean, yeah?” Robin replies, feeling her face heat from the inside out. “He’s just like, not what I was thinking at all, and maybe the best friend I’ve ever had, which is crazy—it’s crazy, because it’s Steve Harrington, right?” Her hands, she realizes with horror, are miming an explosion above her head while her mouth makes a weird, crackling explosion sound. “Who would’ve guessed?”

When she finally gets her mouth flapping under control, Vickie’s smiling at her, walking close enough that the sleeve of her sweater brushes against Robin’s bare arm.

“I don’t know, I always thought he seemed nice.”

Robin’s nodding along like one of those bobble head hula girls that boys are always putting in their cars, even though Steve Harrington isn’t nice. He’s an unmitigated bitch with a sacrificial streak a mile wide, but he’s not nice.

“He’s like a stray that I let into my house one time, and then my mom fed him, so now he keeps following me home,” her mouth says.

Vickie’s mouth laughs in return, so maybe it’s not all that bad.

Robin’s mind replays the angelic sound as she walks into her class, waving goodbye to Vickie as the other girl rushes away in a mad dash to make it on time to her next class.

God, Steve’s going to be such a bitch about this.

 ***

After Eddie’s talk with Chrissy, things shift.

Steve doesn’t sit with the jocks at all anymore. He and Chrissy, still joined at the hip like they really are dating, shift back and forth between the band geeks and the hellfire tables at lunch on Tuesday, prompting hushed whispers to filter through the entire cafeteria.

For his part, all Gareth says is, “does this mean you two’s weird feud over Chrissy is finally over?”

Jeff snorts chocolate milk out of his nose while Eddie laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bench entirely, only staying upright because Steve props him up.

“What?” Gareth demands, tearing into his chicken strips with a viciousness that betrays his ire.

“They’ll tell you when you’re older,” Doug replies despite having no idea himself.

Eddie loves his friends so fucking much.

By Wednesday, a clearly fed up Robin frog-marches the pair of them to the Hellfire table and plops down beside them.

“Munson, I can’t do this split custody thing anymore,” she says, making the red-head that’d followed her over giggle. “They’re too much of a handful.”

“Or maybe even two handfuls,” Steve replies, across the table at her like he’s not playing the most overt game of footsie right below it.

“Don’t be gross, dingus,” she scoffs, and Eddie’s mind goes galloping off with thoughts he shouldn’t be having in a room full of teenagers just waiting to push someone a few more rungs down the ladder.

“Are you guys coming back to Hellfire?” Gareth asks, clearly unable to stand not knowing what’s going on a second longer.

Steve looks at Eddie, brown eyes devastating beneath his lashes. “I’d like to.”

Eddie opens his mouth, ready to grovel at Steve’s feet to get him to come, to get him to keep looking at him like that, but then Robin cuts in with a sly, “you know this means you’ll have to come to Steve’s basketball games,” and he slams his mouth shut.

Steve grins, all seduction dropping off his face as he reaches across the table to give Robin a high five like they’re already on the fucking court. She slaps his palm hard enough that the sound of skin on skin damn-near shatters the sound barrier.

“We can sit together,” Jeff says, but he’s not even looking at Eddie, eyes trained on Chrissy’s blushing face. “It’ll be fun.”

Eddie groans and lets gravity overtake him, dropping his head to the table so suddenly that it would have hurt if Steve hadn’t put his palm over the spot just in time. Eddie turns his face so he can glare up at the other boy, but Steve looks so hopeful and excited that he has to look away again, burying his face into Steve’s palm.

“Fine, I’ll go,” he drawls, lips brushing against Steve’s hand with each word.

“What the hell is happening?” Gareth demands.

Much to his dismay, no one replies.

Things slide back to normal after that—Chrissy and Steve showing up to band practice and hellfire and lunch like nothing had ever come between them. But, it’s better now because Steve knocks their feet together beneath tables, and lets his hands settle on knees and stares just a little too long at Eddie’s lips.

It’s driving him crazy; he wants to reach out and touch, reach out and take.

But that’s not something that’s allowed. Boys are born in their own, invisible bubbles to keep them from touching other boys. Eddie doesn’t know how he never noticed it before, but he wants to shatter it like glass, let it cut up his feet if it means he can brush his lips against Steve’s.

There are all these rules left unwritten, but flung at their feet like slurs: don’t stand too close, don’t look too long, don’t dare to touch.

He wants to, though, thinks maybe in the confines of Gareth’s garage and behind the closed doors of the drama room he could, and it would be safe.

But they live in Hawkins, Indiana, and he’d like to live long enough to get the hell out of here.

So he lets their feet tangle beneath tables and doesn’t lean across them to have a taste, no matter how often Steve licks his lips.

Friday can’t come soon enough.

***

Robin’s been twitchy for days by the time she pulls Steve into their bathroom stall. He follows her dutifully, only laughing a little as she pulls a towel out of her backpack and lays it down before sitting on the floor.

“You plan this, Birdie?” he asks, settling across from her, the towel beneath them insulating him from the cold that’s seeping up from the floor.

Robin’s face turns a blotchy red like a blood vessel burst and dispersed beneath her skin. “Boobies,” she blurts, staring at him with beseeching eyes before she slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

Steve nods, his attempt at sage wisdom undercut by the way he has to bite his lip to stop from laughing at her. “Boobies, yes,” he chokes out. “I’ve, uh, heard of them.”

That’s all it takes for Robin to kick out at him. When her foot gets dangerously close to his crotch, Steve grabs her ankle and cradles her foot in his lap, rubbing the bone.

“Don’t make fun of me!” she whines, still trying to kick him.

“Okay, okay!” he cries out, chuckling as he holds onto her leg for dear life. “Sorry, just—what’s this about boobies?”

“Stop saying boobies!”

Steve uses his free hand to lock up his mouth and toss the invisible key into the toilet, smiling as the blush on Robin’s cheeks creeps up her nose and onto her forehead until she resembles an especially square tomato.

“Vickie—”

And Steve can’t help it, he really, really can’t. “Has nice boobies?” he cuts in, already grabbing at both her legs to stop her jackrabbiting feet from finally landing a blow to his balls.

“I hate you!” Robin shrieks, but even she’s laughing now as she writhes atop the towel, scrunching it as she earth-worm-inches closer to him so she can slap at his ribs while he’s defenseless. “Steve Harrington, you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

She tries to say it with conviction, but Steve’s hands have crept beneath her crew socks, and his fingers are tickling against the inside arch of her foot, so her words come out more as shaky exhalations of laughter. He wiggles his fingers as she squirms away, kicking out with such reckless abandon that one of her feet breaks free and kicks him far too high on his inner thigh for comfort.

“Get your boy cooties off me!” she demands, and he does, pulling his hands out of her socks as she backs away until she’s leaning against the opposite side of the wall again, pouting at him. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, feeling lighter than air. “Now tell me about Vickie’s girl cooties.”

Robin smiles bashfully, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. “Vickie doesn’t have cooties,” Robin replies, gaze distant. She looks wistful, enamored, hopeful. “She walked me to class the other day, even though I know it made her late.”

“Yeah?” Steve prompts, helpless to do anything but to smile back.

“Yeah,” she replies. “And maybe it’ll be like Chrissy again, you know? But you and Eddie…” Robin kicks out at him again, nudging her foot into his and then leaving it there, their soles pressed together. “Maybe there’s more of us out there than I thought.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, absolutely in love with brave, hopeful, honest Robin, here in this stall, in this moment. “Maybe there are.”

They smile at each other, two queer kids in the bathroom together, seeing themselves in each other, again, and again, and again. Steve hopes they’ll always be like this, here, on the bathroom floor, finding hope in each other’s smiles. He has Chrissy, and Jeff, and Eddie now, too. But, Robin will always be the first person who looked at him and made him feel seen.

“We should get married,” he says, not thinking about it before it comes out of his mouth and hangs in the air between them, making Robin’s eyes bug out of her skull. “Just think about it! Eddie and I can’t get married, and neither can you and Vickie—”

“You’ve literally gone out with the guy once, and we don’t even know if Vickie likes girls yet—”

“—but we could totally just marry each other instead!”

The silence of the bathroom rings once Steve’s declaration is out there. Robin swallows, throat bobbing, eyes wide enough that Steve can see the little red veins near the back. Suddenly, Steve wonders if he’s stepped over some line he didn’t even know was there.

Before he can spiral too far, Robin launches herself across the space between them, knees bracketing Steve’s hips as she leans over and bites his shoulder, hard.

“Ow, Robin!”

“You’re insane, Dingus, you know that?” she asks, moving away from his shoulder to plant a kind of wet kiss against his forehead. “I’m sixteen, and you’re proposing in the boy’s bathroom.”

She rubs her hand against his head, likely fucking his hair up beyond repair, but he doesn’t even care because she kisses him again, this time on the top of his head.

“I meant like, later?” Steve says shyly.

He’s always fallen hard and fast, knows that about himself. It’s a fundamental law of the universe: gravity makes things fall down, the earth’s always spinning on an axis, and Steve Harrington puts his whole heart into people who don’t always give it back.

But Robin’s on his lap, kissing his head, and leaking what’s either snot or tears into his hair. “Alright,” she warbles, sounding embarrassingly soggy. “When I get a girlfriend, we can just be permanent beards for each other.”

Steve puts his arms around her and hugs her tight, mashing his face awkwardly into her neck as she laughs. “Grow old in separate bedrooms,” he replies.

“Gotta keep our cooties separate,” she says, like she’s not currently dripping on him on the floor of the boy’s grimy bathroom.

He just squeezes her tighter and gives her a little shake, like a dog with its favorite toy. “Tell me about Vickie,” he demands, but it sounds a whole lot like I love you when it comes from his mouth.

“Okay,” she replies, and it sounds a lot like I love you, too.

PART 21

[kitchen-spoon]

Steve who finishes hair school in Indianapolis then moves to LA because he wants to do hair for movies.

He can’t find a job on a film set right away so in an attempt to get closer to the industry he starts booking at home hair drying & styling through an app.

When he starts its mostly older rich ladies who book him before dinners with their husbands business partners or soirées with their girlfriends. It reminds him a bit too much of his own mother but he pushes that aside in hopes that one day he gives the right rich lady an at home blow out.

That day comes but it isn’t a rich lady. Instead cut to Chrissy manager of newly famous up and coming band corroded coffin, desperate and scrambling. It was the day the band was meant to be shooting their music video for their latest single but the hair stylist they booked called in sick that morning. Out of desperation Chrissy gets on the app and hires Steve. He has 4 stars and over 20 positive reviews and she is running out of options.

Steve sees the name chrissy and sees its for a music video and assumes he is going to be doing some fun bouncy youthful hair for an up and coming pop star. Imagine his shock when heavily pierced and tattooed lead singer of corroded coffin Eddie Munson sits down in his chair with his curly birds nest of hair. Steve does his job though, detangling and defining Eddie’s curls. Steve is even more shocked though, when it turns out Eddie is actually super sweet and…kind of charming? He might even be flirting?

Steve is unsure through the whole day and all of the touch ups he does. There is plausible deniability to all the light touches and brushing against one another that happens. Until the end of the day when Eddie comes to him looking frustrated. Instantly Steve’s stomach drops, he seemed happy with the style all day! If he didn’t like it why film a whole music video with it?

“Steve.” Eddie stops in front of him. “Look, I’m just gonna be blunt.”

Steve’s eyes go wide and he clears his throat, “uh, yeah sure go for it.”

“Am I an idiot who has been flirting with a straight guy all day?” Eddie asked.

All the air left Steve’s lungs, he couldn’t help the small wheeze that escaped him. “No you haven’t I- god Eddie.” Steve started giggling with relief, he even felt a little dizzy with it. “I’ve been trying to keep it together all day, thinking I was delusional and you were just really nice.”

“Oh,” it was Eddie’s turn to widen his eyes. Then a huge smile broke out in his face. “No delusions there, I was definitely flirting with you all day.” He paused taking one of his curls between his hands and separating it causing it to frizz. “And uh, would love to keep flirting with you over dinner tonight…if you’re interested?”

Steve smiled reaching forward taking the curl from Eddie. He began smoothing it back together and smiled warmly. “I’d love to.”

[qprstobin]

I want a Steve who genuinely doesn't want to play DnD because it's just not his thing! He enjoys watching and thinks some of it seems fun, but just isn't interested in the time commitment, or the math, or various other parts of it.

HOWEVER he does demand, like a child when they find out someone is writing a book, to be put in every single campaign as a random npc. He doesn't want to sit down for hours roleplaying, but he does want that seductress in the tavern to have good hair and be named Stevana.

And this isn't like, something the others don't know about, it's very obvious who it is each campaign. Sometimes Eddie even convinces Steve to do the voice for the character if it's a fun one and Steve isn't at work. Steve enjoys how much it both amuses and gets on various Hellfire members nerves, especially because his characters are always... Pretty out there.

Gareth and Jeff tend to be amused by Steve's characters, unless they are actively getting in their way and even then Jeff at least normally just finds them hilarious. Freak continues to want to study Steve like a bug. A crowd favorite for the CC members but a point of annoyance for the Party was the character that Steve pitched that was infatuated with that quest's main villain and would appear randomly just to say something really suggestive about the big bad, inconvenience them somehow even in a really minor way, and then dip. They were definitely supposed to be rescuing Stefano at one point but he was basically kidnapping himself at several points. Dustin is perpetually annoyed because Steve won't play with them for real, but he WILL play a random bimbo that starts them on a quest and enjoys flirting with the older members characters.

(Will and Lucas are... Maybe a little disappointed he's never flirted with their characters but also, Steve would never do that lol.)

Eddie is fine with it, he thinks this is a great compromise. He gets that Steve doesn't want to do hours long storytelling sessions, but this way he still gets to enjoy time with Steve doing one of his favorite things - creating characters and writing the most annoying stories possible. He loves that Steve is participating in even just a small way, and honestly only having him participate for a little bit at a time is better for Eddie's ability to stay on task anyway. He knows Steve wouldn't have fun being a player but he also knows Steve loves being a problem.

[firefly-party]

Temporary support drummer!Steve :D pls full view!

close ups under cut! ↓

[domsaysstuff]

Okay so this idea has been rocking around my empty skull for some time now just we know that Eddie can be a pretty mean DM and a shithead and I've been thinking abt romances in D&D and how it would work in Hellfire

And I had this thought that Eddie would like be "no romances!!" to the Corroded Coffin group (before the kids joined) and they're like why? and Eddie just to tease them says that he doesn't want to pretend to fall for their smelly ugly faces

Which just motivates them to try and seduce like every character that Eddie introduces for a fucking month and it leads to the creation of the rule: Every romance/seduction directed roll must be rolled above 15 to succeed AND if Eddie decides that the attempt is particularly bad the roll is with disadvantage

The Corroed Coffin boys are obviously teasingly like ohhh so we get an advantage if it's good?

"Doubt that would happen boys, but sure, if you make me, Eddie fucking Munson, to blush like a fair maiden then you'll get the advantage on the roll"

They try, they really do, but all the CC boys succeed in doing is killing off all of their party in three sessions and Gareth who is a little shit is actually rolling his third character (because the consequences of a failure are fucking brutal) by the time Jeff and [unnamed freak] give up

After that they know better (except Gareth who still sometimes does that just to annoy Eddie and be a little shit) to try and then the kids join Hellfire and Eddie has even less of an desire to flirt with fucking Wheeler, Henderson and Sinclair (they're baby children!!)

But the kids are a little shits too and they see Gareth being a little shit so they copy

It ends badly for them, they gripe about Eddie being unfair because like "all three of us have girlfriends Eddie and you don't so we clearly know more about romance then you do" Dustin not only gets a flick on the head for that but his character might have ended up being put into situations™ throughout the session that are "totally unfair!"

But fair to say all of Hellfire knows the rules and all of hellfire knows that no matter how well they try and how smooth they are (they really aren't ever smooth) Eddie will not blush or even consider they attempts as "good", the best they got was "tolerable" (Lucas got it and he's still very proud of it, as he deserves okay?), Eddie is impossible to fluster and so it's just is this fun thing they sometimes do when they feel particularly like little shits

And that's it about it

Until Vecna and all the upside down shit and the surprising friendship of Eddie and Steve happens

And suddenly Steve Harrington is not only sitting but playing D&D

Everything is going actually pretty good and Dustin practically vibrates out of his chair at how proud he is of Steve for how well he is doing so far and then

And then Steve tries to flirt with a pretty bard

Dustin deflates, he is ready for the absolute disaster that is going to fall upon Steve, he makes eye contact with Lucas - both of them ready with "it was actually a pretty good line tho!" at the tip of their tongues to defend Steve's decisions, he doesn't know Eddie's special rules after all and it would be funny to see Steve fail, sure, but it's Steve's first game and the kids wanted it to be good for Steve so convincing him to play again would be easier

But now Eddie is going to absolutely rip into him and Steve will never want to play again and-

"Roll with advantage" Dustin gasps, audibly, loudly, the room is silent, except for Steve who's very unaware of the chaos he just created and just rolls the dices, his usual confidence in place

And if someone looked closely - and all of the hellfire is fucking looking - Eddie Munson has indeed a light blush on his face

[seelie-regent]

Omegaverse CorrodedKing au

So Steve was close friends with the whole group throughout elementary and middle school. You literally never saw Steve without at least one of them. They did everything together and knew everything about each other. They didn't keep secrets from each other and were never apart for more than 12 hours at a time. When they formed Corroded Coffin in sixth grade Steve was their vocalist.

Steve's parents didn't exactly like it but didn't do anything about it. Figuring Steve would grow out of them. Mature and realize they weren't up to par to be around someone with the status of a Harrington. Figuring that when Steve presented as an alpha like they expected their little group would fall apart. Except Steve doesn't present as an alpha. He presents almost a year later than he was expected to as an omega less than a month before he's supposed to start high school.

His parents are furious. Especially since the rest of the band has already presented as alpha's. His parents forbid him from seeing them again. Steve tries to argue but it's shut down almost instantly with a threat to have him sent to an omega finishing school out of state. Not even a week after Steve presents his parents are looking into ways to hide his designation while seeing if there are any alpha's to marry Steve off to once he's of age that will benefit them.

So with no choice but to bow to his parents wishes he's forced to cut contact with the band and go on suppressants and wear false scent patches to make him seem like an alpha. He's forced into befriending Tommy and Carol who are the kids of his parents 'business partners. They force him to toss everything related to the band. Pictures, clothes, gifts, books, and everything related to D&D.

On top of everything Steve is made aware that Tommy and Carol are to report everything he does back to his parents. So he knows he won't get a chance to explain anything to the band.

Come the start of Steve's freshman year and the bands confused and devastated for Steve's "abandonment" of them. Their hurt turns to anger that they take out on Steve in whatever ways they can. Constantly talking about how they should have expected it given Steve's parents. Steve, desperate for a distraction, throws himself into sports and partying. Which the band uses as further "proof" of Steve being evil.

It doesn't take long for Steve to develop rejection sickness from the bands constant taunts. Not that he blames them. He knows how it looks. He wishes he could explain. But he can't. Better to be around them and see them even if they hate him then to never see them again.

It doesn't take long for Carol who's also an omega to realize what's happened. And to Steve and her own surprise she does her best to help him. They might not be able to go against their parents but they can redirect Tommy and his friends attention. They can be there for each other.

Steve does end up dating Nancy still. Seeing bits of the boys in her. She's nerdy like them, albeit in a different way. She's got the same big eyes and fluffy curls Eddie has. She's got Gareth's anger that she desperately tries to hide. She's got Jeff's determination. She's got Doug's sense of humor. And Steve misses them so much. And at this point Nancy may as well be as close as he'll ever have to having his boys, his alpha's, back.

Things still fall apart. Steve finds the courage to break away from Tommy except this time Carol goes with him. And he still tries to cling to Nancy, to the pieces of his alpha's that she has, and it's still bullshit come Halloween. What Steve isn't expecting when he comes into school the day after Halloween though is for his secret to be out. For Tommy to have told Billy as revenge when he saw Carol leaving with Steve and trying to comfort him. For Billy to have told the whole school. He and Carol leave as soon as they hear people talking about it. Scared to deal with the fallout of this.

The band started putting the pieces together as soon as they heard what everyone was saying. The more they think about it the more pieces they realize they're missing. It's when they really start to think about what they remember of Steve's parents. That they finally look back and think about Steve constantly looking at them. The longing in his eyes every time. How the looks of pain they always agreed were just wishful thinking when he would watch them. How they had written off the look of Steve's face every time one of them made a comment. How Steve always seemed a little off. How he seemed sick more often than he ever was when they were kids. And all the pieces they're putting together make them almost sick with regret. Desperate to fix it but horrified to realize they don't know how.

Dustin still stumbles upon Steve however Carol is with him this time. So it's Steve and Carol who face the demodogs to protect the kids. When Billy shows up and Steve tries to make him leave he propositions Steve. Steve laughs in his face, because seriously who did he think he was, which only serves to further piss Billy off as he storms into the house. Steve still gets beat to shit but Carol breaks Billy's nose when throwing things at him to try and get him away from Steve giving Max the distraction to knock him out.

Come school the following week everyone has heard some version of the story or another. The band can't decide which version is worse. The one closest to the truth, that Billy attacked Steve while he was babysitting after he turned him down, or that it was Steve's parents furious that the secret had gotten out. Steve's fairly certain the only reason that one isn't true is because he parents still haven't returned home. The band is desperate to apologize but still can't figure out how. Even if they wanted to the Party is keeping Steve so busy that they wouldn't be able to get a minute alone with him. Which might have been Carol's fault. She had accidentally let slip that the band was why Steve had rejection sickness while at the hospital and the kids had misunderstood and taken it as the band had done something to hurt Steve. Any time one of them tries to get Steve outside of school one of the kids suddenly pops up needing something. Dustin, Max, and surprisingly enough Mike are the worst ones about it.

Meanwhile Steve has no idea. He has no clue the party is keeping his away from Corroded Coffin. And he has no idea that his boys are trying to apologize. After several weeks Corroded Coffin starts to think Steve does know though. That it was Steve's idea. (It was Mike's) That Steve really doesn't want them around anymore and that this time it's their fault for being so casually and constantly cruel to him. So they back off.

Then comes summer. Steve and Carol working at Scoops. Carol falling for Robin. Robin oblivious and falling for Carol. And Steve and Robin becoming Steve&Robin one day early in summer when Steve accidentally tells her about Corroded Coffin and the truth of his rejection sickness. Then come the Russians. And truth serum. And Carol and Robin getting together. And Steve talking about how he dated Nancy because of everything she reminded him of. Completely unaware of the fact that his boys were right there.

Eddie has smelled Steve a scent the whole band was familiar with thanks to school and hanging around Scoops. Eddie had followed and seen Steve once more beat to shit and rushed to get the rest of the band so they could try and help their omega. Because maybe Steve didn't want them around but they couldn't just leave him like that. So the band walks in at the perfect moment. To hear Carol and Robin pull the full story from him. They're overjoyed to be proven wrong and devastated to hear what Steve says.

The rest plays out more or less the same and the band drags Steve to the hospital. Once he's released they finally talk things out. Steve refuses to accept an apology for any of it and they refuse all of his.

It's not till they tell the kids that the band learns complete truth. The kids are pissed that Steve would date the band much to Steve's confusion. He ends up learning about the small misunderstanding sprouted from Carol's poor explanation. After that the kids are completely on board with the relationship. Dustin latching onto Eddie and Will deciding Gareth is his favorite.

A year and a half later Steve's parents show up having finally found out about the last several years of Hawkins chaos. However they can't do anything. Steve had mated the band and moved out almost year before they show up leaving them with nothing to hold over Steve's head.

Steve can't imagine a timeline where he's happier. He has his boys back. His alpha's. And he gained a best friend, platonic soulmate, and a small pack of chaotic teenagers. There's nothing more he could imagine wanting.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

part two to this little thing 'cause i saw these tags on the last part from @stevesjester and actually kicked my feet and giggled about it

After Pretty Boy kissed him, Eddie walked back to the staff break room in a daze.

His slow lumbering gait still managed to scare some folks, though, so that’s a plus.

He opens the door, slowly turns to close it softly, and leans back against it once it is.

“Eddie? You okay?” Comes a voice he’d know anywhere. “Wait, that is you, right? You’re supposed to be Piggy Man tonight?”

Eddie pulls the rubber mask off, making his stomach flip thinking about the last time it was pulled up. You know, ‘cause he’s a sap.

Chrissy takes in his shocked, sweaty face, “Oh my god, you okay? What happened?”

He looks up at his roommate (best friend, sister) in her bloody cheerleader costume, an ironic holdout from their time in high school, and breathes a laugh, “I fell in love.”

“OMG OMG tell me everything right now!!” Chrissy bounces over to him excitedly and pulls him down to the bench of their one (1) break table, a sagging plastic picnic table.

He looks up at her bright happy face and barks out a half hysterical laugh, “I can’t believe you’re this excited about me potentially falling in love with someone I’m literally being paid to scare.”

“Oooh, so they were a runner??”

“Yeah, literally in this case.”

“Start talking, Munson, or I’m going to throw all your guitar picks down the garbage disposal.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus Christ.. Okay, so I did my usual creepy husky voice at him, called him all the usual things,”

“Let me guess, you started with ‘pretty boy’?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause he’s pretty. Duh. Damn was he pretty…”

“Uh huh. And you fell in love with him ‘cause he was pretty?”

“No, no of course not, listen to this:” Eddie sits up straighter in preparation for the story. “I had him backed into a corner, right? The fake gate over in section 2B,”

“Ah yes, of course.”

“Yeah! And when I lunged at him, he caught my arm, and spun me around.”

“Shut. Up.”

“No, never. SO he’s got me backed against the fence, and he–I swear to fucking Jesus H. Christ–lifts my mask up and kisses me.”

Chrissy starts to squeal incoherently. “Eeeeee!!! Shutupshutupshutup!! Holy shit there’s no way this happened!!”

“Look, 100% serious right now; he kissed me stupid, and spun around and booked it again.”

“Pretty Boy distracted you with a kiss to escape!?! I cannot believe this, c’mon..” Crissy grabs ahold of his arm again and pulls him out of the breakroom with her insane unchecked leftover cheer squad strength.

“Whoa, what? Where’re we going?? He’s probably gone by now! I was standing over in 2B like an idiot for a while after he left!!”

“Not that, we gotta go see Argyle.”

“Argyle why—ohhh shit. Oh my god, you think they caught it on camera?” Eddie’s actively following her now.

The two burst into the warehouses’ security office, where they’re met with the backs of two ‘zombie’ guards (and the leftover smell of weed).

“Argyle, Jonathan, you need to look at something for us,”

“Is it the footage of Eddie’s makeout sesh in 2B? ‘Cause we’re waaayy ahead of you pompom.”

“Ah!! Holy shit he was telling the truth?!” Chrissy bodies between the two, sending Argyle rolling away on his chair, and Jonathan staggering back a step.

“Dude, that’s so cool of your boyfriend to come to the haunt, keepin’ us in business.” Argyle directs at Eddie, though still spinning slowly in his chair.

“He’s not my–you thought he was my boyfriend?”

“Yeah man, why else would you look at him like that.” Jonathan points down at the screen. 

Chrissy re-winds it again and Eddie watches himself charge forward at Pretty Boy (damn, he’s still pretty though this grainy footage too, how the fuck is that possible??), get spun and–oh shit, they’re right.

“Oh Jesus Christ.” he hangs his head into his hands, falling down into Jonathan’s previously abandoned chair.

“Sooo…he’s not your boyfriend..?”

Chrissy re-winds the footage again. Squeals happily.

“Nope. Just met him tonight.”

“Wow dude, that’s like, love at first sight if I ever saw it.”

She re-winds it again, squeals.

“Yeah I know, it’s embarrassing as shit, alright?” Eddie’s still talking into his palms.

Chrissy snorts at that, “Not for you! Well..kinda..but him too, did you not see that pause?”

“...What pause?”

His question goes unanswered as Jon and Argyle move back in over Chrissy’s shoulders and after a few seconds both “Ohh…” in sync.

“The fuck’re you talking about?”

“Look,” She re-winds the tape once again and points, “Watch after he lifts your mask.”

So he does, and..okay, there was a pause.

“...So?”

“He totally fell in love with you at the same time you did him. Fell with him. With each other?”

“You both fell in love at the same time.” Chrissy says what Jonathan was trying to. “We have GOT to find this guy somehow.”

Chrissy records the footage on the screen with her phone, intending to post it online to find the guy, but Argyle’s positive he’s gonna show back up tonight.

“Give him a chance, pompom, he’s totally in love too, remember?”

“Fine, but if he doesn’t come back today, I’m posting this. Maybe it’ll get us some more business too.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.

“No.” Yep, there it is.

So, he rolls his eyes, puts his mask back on, and finishes out the night like everything is normal and he didn’t just fall head over fuckin’ heels for a random (hot) stranger earlier.

He’s done for the night before Chrissy since she’s got a lot of that fake blood to try and wash off, so he grabs up his stuff and heads out the front, intending to wave bye to Gareth at the front counter before braving the frigid late fall wind to warm up his car (and move it closer to the entrance so Chrissy doesn't have to walk in the cold). 

“See ya Ed,” Gareth calls, and he waves over his shoulder at him as he passes, his attention pulled to a blonde with a choppy bob looking in through the glass of the door, partially silhouetted by the bright ass headlights of a shiny Tesla parked behind her.

He can see the shadow of someone in the driver seat too, as he gets closer and opens the door for her, their face only partially lit up through the tinted glass by the glow of a phone screen.

She starts rambling off immediately after the door is open. “Oh my god, I thought we were too late and you were closed and I completely didn’t even realize I’d left something here when we were here earlier an–”

“Nope, no worries, ma’am, just go talk to Gareth at the front counter and he can tell you if someone turned in…whatever it is you left here.”

She says her thanks and scoots past him, and he spins quickly towards the side lot where his old Neon is parked.

He glances back when he hears the bell chime over the door, a bit delayed (probably the wind holding it open), and sees that the Tesla’s stopped beaming their headlights into the front door, that’s nice of them.

He unlocks his car and gets in, turning the engine over and cranking the heat as high as it’ll go. Once the engine stops it’s signature ‘I’m cold as fuck rn, don’t even try to move me’ rattle, he drives to the front door to wait for Chrissy, pulling in next to the burgundy Tesla.

He scrolls down TikTok for a couple minutes before a banner pops up on his screen

Chris C.: oh my holy fucking shit eddie, get your ass back inside!

Panicking, he races back in through the door, not even bothering to shut off his engine (or close his car door for that matter), thinking shiny Telsa duo is like, robbing the place or something, but as soon as he gets back in, he’s stopped dead in his tracks.

His heart’s still beating a mile a minute, but now with nerves.

Because standing infront of the counter are Chrissy (who’s actually vibrating with excitement), choppy blonde, and…

Oh fuck.

No way.

“H–hi, hi. I’m Steve, you’re Eddie right?”

He can’t help the grin that splits across his face. “Hey, pretty boy.”

thanks to @henderdads for rightfully pointing out that modern day rich boy steve would probably have a tesla <3

tagging everyone i saw in the tags of the last post that seemed interested in more/wanted to see the aftermath lmao: @bangarangdarling, @tartarusknight, @kas-eddie-munson, @wormdebut (AMAZING url btw), @vecnuthy, @perseus-notjackson, @homosexual-having-tea, @matchingbatbites, @scarcrossdlvrs, @anzelsilver, @auroraplume, @kkpwnall, @wildwildsoul, @bennys-burgers, @steveharringtonssluttywaist

[hauntingjasper]

We need candy Marshall and vampire Gumball!!!

Waow okay anon imma give you a lil concept, sorry for making you wait too long 🥹

My current takes on Candy Prince Marshall Lee and Vampire King Gumball

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 

Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 

First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 

It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 

The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 

As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 

Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 

Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 

Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 

Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.

Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson." 

Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea. 

"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--" 

"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 

"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 

"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 

"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 

"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though." 

He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 

Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  

The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 

 "Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 

Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 

"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"

They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him. 

Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes. 

A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it. 

Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.

"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise. 

Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement. 

He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose. 

“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.” 

Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest. 

The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time. 

“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it. 

One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands. 

“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.” 

Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm.  “You can touch mine if you want.” 

Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second. 

He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up. 

Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red. 

“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?” 

Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face. 

“Did he do that?” He asked. 

Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?” 

Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up. 

“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.” 

It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something. 

Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy. 

As always, it turned out to be the wrong move. 

"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room. 

“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds. 

The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!" 

Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him. 

“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp. 

The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things. 

“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back. 

This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces. 

"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently.  “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”

"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway. 

Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady. 

Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both. 

Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with. 

Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently. 

“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here." 

Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise. 

 “No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children. 

"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare. 

 As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.

 "He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.

"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”

"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!" 

Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together. 

"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step. 

"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back. 

“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.” 

He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was. 

“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.

One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it. 

The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him. 

It was fake as hell, but it worked. 

“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.  

 Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that. 

xXx 

Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list. 

He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt. 

It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them. 

It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on. 

They really were looking for someone. 

Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.

Them. 

Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards. 

“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy. 

She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke. 

His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.

“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel. 

Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide. 

Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy. 

Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself. 

"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell. 

"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels. 

He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet. 

Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.

Food workers.

Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes. 

"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it. 

Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”  

‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held. 

“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways. 

Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another. 

"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.” 

Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees. 

Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down. 

Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head. 

Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them. 

What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent. 

Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale. 

‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’ 

Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed. 

Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful. 

Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong. 

Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat. 

It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)  

Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high. 

Worse?

This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look. 

Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.

Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.

What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls. 

“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that. 

The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order. 

[sparkle-fiend]

Long distance relationships are hard (especially on Eddie’s band mates).

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 5

part 1 | part 4

“…Henderson? Oh, holy shit, Henderson!!”

Eddie sounds like a kid on Christmas morning as he comes bounding across the street, movements like a great dane tripping over gangly limbs. He barrels into Dustin and tackles him in a great big hug, swings him off the ground in a circle and puts him back down so they can do some elaborate handshake with slaps and switchbacks and an ending tap-tap of their ankle bones.

What the fuck?

Steve watches this whole thing go down with his hands on his hips and his face doing something horribly sour because seriously what the actual fuck? Stupid handshakes with Henderson are his thing.

“What are you doing here, man?” Munson asks Dustin with a jovial pat on the back. Dustin’s squeezing him around the middle, tucked into his side like a little kid hugging a giant teddy bear, face just lit the fuck up with excitement over this. Steve feels his nostrils flare in a brief flash of petty rage.

“Steve!” he shouts happily. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re neighbors with Eddie?”

Eddie’s face falls when he looks up and sees Steve. Feeling’s mutual, dickwad.

“You’re here to see Harrington?” He asks in a voice like flat soda, all the earlier enthusiasm sucked out into the void. He takes a tiny step away from Dustin — just the smallest bit of distance, a subtle lightening of his touch against his shoulder — but Steve doesn’t miss the flicker of hurt that passes between Dustin’s brows. As if he needed another reason to hate this guy.

“Uh, yeah?” Dustin asks, confusion coloring his tone. “He’s my brother.”

“He’s your what?”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. “He said I’m his brother.”

“Not my blood brother,” Dustin clarifies, and Eddie makes a little noise. “But yeah. He’s fucking awesome. And you’re fucking awesome—”

“Language?” Steve tries for Claudia’s sake, but Dustin’s on a roll now, getting louder and more exuberant as he starts talking with his hands.

“—And oh, holy shit, this is the best! Wait ‘til I tell Mike and Lucas about this. With you guys living so close, we can hang out all the time! And we won’t even have to make two bike rides!”

Dustin leans in to squeeze Eddie in another hug, so stoked he’s bouncing on his toes a little (so stoked he doesn’t even bother to ask Eddie if it’s cool if the whole party shows up at his door, but that’s Dusty for you). His face is turned into the front of Eddie’s shirt, and over the top of his baseball cap Eddie gives Steve this look that Steve’s pretty sure he returns. Serious. Somber. Resigned. A fucking gallows stare, because…

Because fuck. Fucking- goddammit.

They’re gonna have to pretend to tolerate each other now. For Dustin.

Steve’s left eye starts to twitch.

—

“Are you selling him drugs?”

“Excuse the fuck outta you??”

Okay. Yeah. Bad start. Backtrack. Steve knows this is not the right way to approach a conversation, especially not when it’s Saturday night and you just interrupted your neighbor’s house party to be an accusatory dick to him. The Munson trailer door is wide open behind Eddie, and Steve can see a couple guys he vaguely recognizes from school sitting in the living room — a chubby white dude, a nerdy black guy, and a baby-faced kid with a scowl to rival Mike’s. They’re eating pizza and smoking cigarettes and sipping some cheap-ass brand of beer, and Steve is clearly interrupting.

“Sorry,” he tries again.

“Wow,” Eddie smirks. “Didn’t know you knew that word.”

“Shut up, man- just— ugh.” He takes a deep breath, wills himself to stop rolling his eyes at the guy he needs to ask a favor. “I’m sorry, okay? Can I just talk to you for a second?”

Eddie considers him for a moment; chin tilted up, lips pursed; and then he steps onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. “I’m listening,” he murmurs around a fresh cigarette, hand cupped around the end to light it.

He holds the pack out to Steve. “You want one?”

“Do I- what?”

Eddie shakes the box for emphasis. “Do you want one?”

“No, I heard you, I just…” The weird ceasefire between them is tripping him the hell up. He doesn’t think it’ll go too well if he says that out loud, though. “…Yeah. Fuck it. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

They smoke in silence for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, looking out into the dark of the woods that kind of freak Steve out if he lets himself look too long. Something about the branches like long, spindly fingers in the dark; like jittering spider legs; like a Mindflayer made of—

“You wanted to ask me something?”

Steve rubs his brow with his thumb, lets the panic out on a slow breath. “Yeah, I just… Look, I’m not trying to— I mean, I shouldn’t accuse you of anything, man. I just spent the afternoon getting myself all worked up thinking about it after he left, and- and Claudia needs me to look out for the kid, so—”

“Who the hell is Claudia?”

Steve tilts his head at him. “Dustin’s mom?”

“Oh.”

“I thought you two were close.”

Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing around his shoulders, “Nah, man, not yet really. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the little guy’s cool and all — smart as shit, too—”

“Isn’t he?”

“Fucking genius. He’s gonna cure cancer or some shit, I swear.”

Steve catches himself smiling; hides it behind another quick puff of smoke.

“Anyway,” Eddie says, “I don’t really, like, know the dude. We just met because I run Hellfire.”

Oh. “The DnD club?” No wonder Dusty’s obsessed.

Eddie shoots him a look, a quick blink of pleasant surprise. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Cool. He loves that game.” Steve pulls in more smoke, takes his time on the exhale; lets the nicotine buzz swim in his veins. He forgot how nice it feels. “So yeah, Claudia— his mom—asked me to look out for him, y’know? And I just, I know you used to supply the weed for my house parties and shit— and it was good quality shit and all but I don’t—”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, snorting a little in disbelief. “You think I’m gonna sell weed to Dustin?”

Huh. “You wouldn’t?”

“Hell no! One, he’s way too young; that shit’s, like, bad for young minds or something, allegedly.”

Steve frowns to himself, thinking back to him and Tommy smoking weed in Tommy’s basement in middle school; the brain damage they probably gave themselves doing it. Whoops.

“Secondly, can he even smoke? I thought he was sick or something.”

“What? Why would you think he’s sick?” Oh, shit, is he sick? Does Steve not know about it because he missed all those family dinners?

“Dude, take a breath.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand, wafting smoke in pretty tendrils under the trailer’s flood light. “I just meant, like, chronically. ‘Cause of his bones and shit?”

“Oh,” Steve breathes, relieved. “Oh, yeah, no, he’s fine, he’s just like missing collarbones and stuff; he can bend like Gumby.”

Eddie laughs at that, dimple popping out, and Steve can’t help but laugh a little, too, remembering the last time he told someone that. “Don’t tell him I said that, though, he’ll get pissed.”

“Scout’s honor,” Eddie salutes.

“You a boy scout, Munson?”

“Nah, Harrington. Just figured you were.” His eyes are bright and playful, sort of magnetic as he drops the last of his cigarette and stubs it out with the toe of his boot. “Anyway, I gotta get back to the boys. You wanna stick around for a beer, or are you satisfied with my answer, Nanny Steve?”

“Okay, do not fuckin’ call me that,” Steve laughs, sharp and short. Tries to season the words with a glare, but Eddie’s face is too impish and pleased to hold on to any real anger. “And I appreciate the offer, but I think your friends would try to kill me.”

“Mm, yeah,” Eddie agrees, wiggling his fingers as he waves a hand to gesture at the whole of Steve. “Gareth is not exactly a fan of your kind.”

Aaand he’s pissed again. Jesus Christ. “My kind?”

“Yeah. Jocks? Rich assholes?” His lips tip up in a crooked smirk, “Or, well—”

“Don’t.”

Steve’s just done with his stupid jokes suddenly, and Eddie must hear how much he means it because he raises his palms in surrender and steps back. Always stepping back and away, this guy. Fucking coward.

Steve doesn’t know why he reacts like this, but the shame is turning to fiery fury in his gut, curdling his blood like sour milk, pricking hot at his lash line. Damn it; he’s not about to let Eddie Munson of all people see him cry.

He scoffs at himself, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Whatever, man,” he sniffs as he turns his back on him, “Enjoy your party. Screw you.”

—

The most pathetic part, Steve thinks to himself as he writhes and twists in his tangled, sweaty sheets; 2am and he’s up again after a nightmare because of fucking course he is; is that somewhere between the insomnia and guilt over the way their conversation imploded earlier, his staring-blindly-at-the-ceiling-until-his-eyeballs-start-to-burn morphs into, like, daydreaming about how it could have gone.

He keeps repeating the scene in his mind, rewinding the tape to let it play out in richer detail.

It goes like this:

1. Eddie comes over.

2. Eddie comes over and apologizes.

3. Eddie comes over in the middle of the night to apologize because he’s so, so sorry that he just can’t wait until morning, even though it wasn’t really his fault; no, Steve’s the sorry one; no, Eddie is; no, they’ll both agree to do better, for the kids.

4. It’s two in the morning, after the cars are all gone and the party’s died down, and Eddie comes quietly across the yard; taps gently on Steve’s window so he doesn’t wake his mom.

Steve leans out and snaps, “What?” because he’s still a little pissed, and Eddie makes big, contrite eyes and plays with his own hands; fingers dancing in nervous circles; spinning rings.

“Listen, I, uh—” Eddie begins, “I might have… Shit, man, I might’ve been a bit of a massive dick earlier, and seeing as we have to play nice on account of the kiddos, I— do you- I mean— come have another smoke with me? Please.”

Please.

Please.

Please.

It’s a pleasant dream. Steve rewinds again, lets it play out in his head for a few more loops. Falls asleep just as he’s getting the dialogue right.

When he wakes up, Munson’s van is gone.

They don’t talk again for weeks.

—

part 6

tag list got absolutely outta hand lmao and i can’t tag some of y’all bc of your privacy settings, so sorry if i didn’t tag you but here ya go i did my best 🩷 follow the tag #trailer park steve au for future parts. @steves-strapcollection @discorporatedmess @questionablequeeries @nburkhardt @disrespectedgoatman @a-little-unsteddie @thedragonsaunt @ledleaf @perseus-notjackson @devondespresso @loop-deloo @annabanannabeth @thewyvernkore @callas-shitshow @sentry-nest @aliea82 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @steddie-as-they-go @insominaticthoughts @lofaewrites @crazyhatlady86 @gothwifehotchner @potent-idiocy @discount-izukumidoriya @hbyrde36 @goldensnitchbcs @mightbeasleep @lawrencebshoggoth @beckkthewreck @silversnaffles @dawners @hellion-child @stray-bi-kids @iswearitsjustme @ilovecupcakesandtea @slowandsteddie @gaysonthefloor @pennyplainknits

[oneforthemunny]

Reader meeting mafia!eddies friends for the first time (Gareth, Jeff, max etc) fluff😁

a little bit of mafia!eddie fluff this fine morning <3

"Are you nervous?" Eddie looked over at you, hand sliding down the bare skin of your thigh, free hand on the wheel.

You fidgeted, fingers twisting nervously. You knew he could feel it, that he was trying to soothe you under his sweet touch, but it just made your chest tighten even more. "Yeah," You admitted, gnawing on your bottom lip.

Eddie grinned at you sweetly. "Don't be nervous, baby." He hummed, giving your thigh a soft squeeze. "You're gonna love them."

You let out a breathy, nervous giggle. "I'm not worried about liking them." You muttered. "I'm worried about them liking me."

Eddie shook his head. "They're gonna love you, baby." He said, a finality in his tone that had your heart swelling. "Trust me."

It was a big step- a huge step, really. Inviting you to meet his friends- his business partners. The most trusted people in his life. It was such a vulnerable step that it made your chest tighten.

Eddie kept his circle small, you'd give him that. Three people sitting at the back booth of the restaurant Eddie always took you to. The small room in the back that was always private and reserved for him.

Eddie nodded, curt but calm when he walked in, his hand finding the small of your back gently guiding you with him. He rubbed your back through the silk of your dress as he introduced you to each person. He knew it calmed you. After the countless nights you two had spent together, he'd learned that.

"Hi," You squeaked, tight and overwhelmed with nerves. You wanted to make a good impression, to have them like you.

Jeff smiled at you warmly. "We've heard a lot about you, you know?" A teasing, lightness to his tone.

"Really?" You lifted a brow, looking at Eddie carefully, taking the seat that he pulled out for you.

"Oh, yeah. You tamed the untamable." Jeff snickered lightly, shoulder nudging Max's in playfulness. "Of course we heard about you."

"Yeah, we wanted to meet you the second Eddie told us he had at date. A real date too," Max added, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Not with the hookers at the club that he usually-"

"-Alright." Eddie snapped, eyes cutting to hers in such a menacing way it had you shivering. Max only howled in laughter, her and Jeff falling into each other in giggles.

Eddie turned to you, and for the first time ever, you could see his cheeks pink with embarrassment that he tried to hide. "They weren't hookers." Eddie added, giving you a softened look. "I don't need to hire my hookups like some people here." He hissed, glaring at Jeff.

You shifted uncomfortably, giving a soft, nervous giggle. Your eyes met Gareth, across the table. He'd glared at you since you'd first walked in, giving nothing but a curt nod, lips snarled in near disgust at you. A look he still had now.

"Um," Your hands were clammy, wiping them gently under the table. "How long have you all known each other?"

"Since high school." Max said.

"Since Junior High, for me and Gare." Jeff nodded towards Gareth with a grin he didn't return. "We were all into Dungeons and Dragons. Used to play it growing up all the time in Gareth's mom's basement."

"Dungeons and Dragons?" You lifted a brow, a tiny smile on your lips when you turned to Eddie, his face flushing in heat. "I didn't know you liked that game."

"Oh, yeah," Jeff snorted lightly. "Eddie used to be our Dungeon Master in high school. Made a whole fuckin' club."

"Dungeon Master, huh?" You giggled, squeezing Eddie's knee playfully under the table. He didn't squirm, but he tensed under your teasing.

"Yeah," Eddie's voice cracked, swallowing to even it. "It's, uh, it's fun. You ever played?"

"No," You shook your head. "Never."

"Oh, it's so much fun." Jeff nodded. "We still play sometimes. Well, when we're free." He lifted a brow at Eddie's glare. "What? We do."

"You should play sometime." Max added. "I just started playing when I met them, but it's pretty entertaining. Or at least watching them lose their shit on each other is hilarious-"

"-So, where did you say you met Eddie?" Gareth's biting tone came from the other end of the table, silencing the playful conversation you'd been having.

You swallowed, shifting uncomfortably, his eyes glaring into you. "Uh, at my job." Your voice was shaky and unsure. "I-I work at the bank."

"But you're not from here?" Gareth's eyes narrowed.

"No," You shook your head. "I-I'm from-"

"-So, you end up in Hawkins, and immediately start dating Eddie?" Gareth's tone was suspect. The table was eerily quiet, Eddie tensing beside you.

"I-I didn't- I was roommates with Nancy in college, and I needed a job, so she, um, she got me a job at the bank with Joyce-" You were stammering nervously. You weren't sure why he frightened you so much. You knew Eddie knew everything about your home life, that he'd looked into you the second he saw you.

"-You don't think that's weird?" Gareth scoffed, looking over at Eddie.

Eddie's teeth grit. "No," He sneered. "I already looked into it. Me and Rick, Gareth, you fucking know that."

Gareth's eyes rolled over you unimpressed. "Besides," Eddie's hand fell on your under the table, squeezing it tightly. "I asked her out."

Max gasped lightly, brows shooting up in surprise. "No!' She gasped. "You didn't tell us that, Munson. Is that true?" She looked at you.

You nodded, swallowing your nerves. "Yeah," You forced a small smile, still shaken by Gareth. "He, uh, he came in and was kinda an asshole." You smirked at Eddie.

Max cackled, leaning across the table towards you. "No, I gotta hear this. Eddie won't talk about it, now I know why." She snickered. "Go on, tell me every fucking detail."

[steviesbicrisis]

Prologue

Gareth is in charge of the Corroded Coffin official TikTok account, he's playing Fuck Marry Kill with the three random celebrities filters and trying to make the other guys join as well.

When it's Eddie's turn, he's having none of it until he sees the three celebrities on top of his head.

He has no clue who these people are, but the one in the middle? Eddie is sure he's going to marry him someday.

Eddie has yet to find out that the guy is none other than baseball player Steve Harrington, 1/3 of the "Ladykiller Trio", currently playing for the Yomiuri Giants. In Japan.

And when things get too complicated for Eddie's liking, thankfully he has Gareth on his side.

Gareth the Matchmaker (1/?) - AO3 Next

Original post

----

How you can follow this AU:

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Please let me know if, with these options, you are following the story comfortably. If not, I will resort to going back to the taglist but I wanna avoid it as much as possible!

I'm really excited to be finally sharing this with you, please let me know what you think!

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Time passes in ways Eddie doesn’t fully understand, in the aftermath of Steve’s injury.

A few days are spent lounging around the hotel room with Steve drifting in and out of sleep, for the most part. Then they graduate to small day trips. Squeeze in some touristy shit; museums and landmarks not too far from the hotel, in case Steve gets a migraine or starts feeling nauseous. 

Day 6 features a follow-up at the hospital, where Steve is told the bandage is no longer necessary to cover the worst of the injury, surgery won’t be necessary, and he’s clear to fly home or wherever else he wants to go. Which means Eddie is also free to leave LA, but he’s already stuck it out this long, so he decides to continue to follow Steve’s lead and spend another day.

He gets a call from Steve before he leaves his hotel room on Day 7, informing him that Max is leading a trip to the beach before they leave California again. Steve insists it’s the least he can do since Lucas flew out to spend the last few days with her, so she could stick around until Steve was clear to travel again.

And that’s how Eddie finds himself wearing lavender board shorts from the surf shop that looked the least like a tourist trap, dousing himself with an entire bottle of the highest SPF he can find before stepping out of the store. His black ripped jeans and the Judas Priest shirt he’d worn, not anticipating a trip to the beach, are folded into the bottom of a large tote Robin is carrying with ease, as she picks out towels for everyone to lounge on. She catches sight of him and raises an eyebrow, but he holds his hand up to stop any commentary.

“Black is just going to make me burn even more than I’m already going to burn, and the blue pair I liked were the wrong size, so lavender it is.” He defends, but she just shrugs at him, keeps smiling and walks over to pay for the towels and her bathing suit.

Behind Eddie, Lucas clears his throat. He spins to find Steve, blushing and glaring at Lucas, who’s grinning. 

“What? Don’t tell me I need to defend the trunks to you guys, too. I thought you’d be on my side.” He whines.

“Oh, I don’t think Steve has any issue with your shorts. Or lack of a top.” Lucas teases, then laughs as Steve swings a soft punch into his shoulder.

“I just…” Steve trails off, turning his attention back to Eddie and Eddie can see the heat rise from Steve’s cheeks up to the tips of his ears, coloring him a soft shade of pink. “I didn’t realize how many tattoos you actually have, I guess.” He eventually settles on, before immediately occupying himself with finding sunscreen.

Eddie lets it slide, and they all pay for what they need, before crossing the street and trekking toward the water. Max is the first to toss her shorts and sandals into a pile, running toward the ocean and diving into the first wave she encounters. Lucas is just a step behind her, and he’s quick to catch her waist and throw the two of them back into the water just as she’s resurfacing.

Robin shoves a rented umbrella into the sand and Eddie helps expand it, as Steve lays out his towel so his face is covered by the umbrella’s shade, but his torso down is exposed to the sun. Eddie, on the other hand, huddles up so most of his body is concealed by the umbrella.

“Oh shit, dude, I didn’t even think to ask. Are you worried about getting seen out here or something?” Steve asks, and Eddie frowns. It takes a moment before he realizes it probably seems like he’s hiding from any potential paparazzi.

“I get bothered so little by media that I hadn’t even thought about that if I’m being honest.” Eddie shakes his head but smiles at how thoughtful Steve is. “I’m just a little too pasty to trust the sun on a cloudy day, so direct exposure like this always makes me nervous. But I like laying in the sand and I’m happy you wanted me to tag along. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he assures Steve, who smiles at him until Robin mocks a gagging noise and makes them both blush and look away from one another.

The salt air and crescendo of waves and bellowing laughter kick up a surprising amount of inspiration for Eddie, and he fishes his phone out of Robin’s bag, typing away while she and Steve sunbathe. 

He’s so caught up in the piece he’s working out that he doesn’t realize anyone has spoken to him until Steve’s pressing a hand to his knee, looking a little concerned. 

“What? Sorry, I got an idea and I had to get it out before I forgot about it.” He mumbles, typing out his final thoughts before giving Steve his full attention.

“We’re going to return the umbrella and grab food before heading back to the hotel to pack up, if you’re hungry?” Steve asks, smiling at Eddie. He looks back at his phone to realize their hour with the rented umbrella is nearly up, so he nods and helps clean up the space they’d taken over, before they find a beachfront restaurant that doesn’t mind that none of the guys are wearing shirts, or that Max’s hair is still dripping wet, leaving a trail behind her as they move to their seats.

Once they’ve eaten, they go back to the hotel. Eddie asks if he can shower to get the sand out of his hair before he changes back into the clothes he’d had on pre-trip to the beach. When he re-enters the room, almost everything is packed up and Robin is on the balcony, talking on the phone.

“Nancy called,” Steve explains from the sofa, as Eddie flops beside him, towel-drying his hair gently. He hadn’t bothered to put his shirt on yet, not wanting his hair to make it all wet while it air dries. “Did they hurt?”

“Hm?” Eddie’s confused instantly, looking at Steve before realizing he’s eyeing the tattoos across his chest. “Some of ‘em more than others, yeah. But it’s a good kind of hurt.”  Eddie explains, and Steve frowns, but that’s okay because Eddie knows not everyone gets what he means whenever he explains the tattooing experience like that. “It’s… kinda like if you have itchy sunburn and you accidentally scratch it? It feels good to have scratched it, but it also hurts.” When Steve still looks confused, it’s Eddie’s turn to frown. He looks over Steve’s exposed arms and takes in the soft golden color they’ve turned and his eyes narrow. “Do not tell me you’re one of those genetic anomalies that doesn’t sunburn and always has a perfect tan, Stevie.”

Now Steve is grinning, throwing a shrug in Eddie’s direction. “Blame it on the 8 years of swim club during the summer off-season.” Steve laughs as an explanation, and Eddie instantly wants to know more about everything Steve has ever done in his life, but doesn’t know where to draw the line at how much is too much to ask to know, so he ultimately doesn’t ask for any further information. Which is fine, because Steve is leaning closer and taking hold of his left forearm, twisting it and tracing a finger along a snake that wraps around his skin. “Do they have meanings?”

“Some of them, yeah. Some of them I just got because I liked how they look.” Eddie admits, watching Steve’s fingers trace along the delicate lines of the snake. “That one’s got its mouth open like it’s hissing and about to bite.” Eddie considers what comes next, and decides to just lay it all out on the table. Steve had been open and honest with him, Eddie could return the favor. “Snakes are supposed to be a symbol of inner strength and perseverance, and they look sick. I got it after my first stint in rehab.”

Steve doesn’t falter, doesn’t even blink, and if Eddie didn’t know better, he would think Steve had already known about his trips to rehab before he’d said anything. Instead, he moves on to trace a blackout band around Eddie’s bicep. “Do any of them have stories you want to share? You don’t have to if it’s too personal.”

He’s stunned to silence for a moment, something that doesn’t often happen to Eddie. But he’s so used to everyone pressing to hear more about rehab and addiction and recovery that his brain physically needs a moment to catch up to Steve. “Oh. Uh. I mean, the one you’re touching doesn’t have a meaning or story, I just liked how it looks.” Eddie thinks for a moment, then, before he holds out the inside of his right forearm. “This one is a puppet master. Master of Puppets is my favorite Metallica song, and when I learned to play it is when I realized that music could actually be a career path for me.” They run through a few other tattoos; the Wyvern, the spider, the “you bow to no one” in elvish down his spine. While still working up the courage to tell Steve more, he switches his approach. “Do you have any tattoos? Or have you ever wanted any?”

“I’ve never thought about it in a serious way, because I’m not sure I’d like having something on me permanently like that.” Steve shrugs, flipping his arm over to point at his right wrist. “The few times I’ve thought about it, it’s been like. A robin, here. The Roman numerals for 94 somewhere. That kind of stuff.”

Eddie smiles softly, nods. “It’s adorable that you’d want one for Robin.” He teases and lets the moment breathe for a moment before he circles back to the tattoo of the snake. “I’m not ashamed of my story, or my history, but we hadn’t really talked about, you know. That aspect of things, yet. But, I mean. I made terrible choices when I was younger, and I got in over my head with drugs harder than I realized. And it’s happened more than once. And I’m not naive enough to think I’m magically cured because drugs haven’t raised an issue for me over the last few years. But I’ve been mostly sober for almost 4 years.”

“Mostly?” Steve asks, concern clear in how softly he speaks, and Eddie can’t help but grin and shrug a little.

“Still some weed sometimes. Still drink beer sometimes. Both in moderation, not anything out of control. It, uh, probably sounds weird but those weren’t substances I had issues with, so I don’t… I don’t really think about drinking or smoking as cheating, but I know some programs would call it that way.” He shrugs, and Steve nods, processing the information.

“Well, thanks for sharing that with me. I know it’s probably not easy to talk about, but. I learned a few new things about you today.” He offers with a little smile, and Eddie nods back. They slip back into silence, until Robin slips back into the room, looking between the two of them expectantly.

“Did you ask him?” She asks, and when Eddie turns his attention to Steve, he flushes.

“No, I uh…” He trails off, picking at a fingernail before looking up at Eddie, then back down at his hands. “We’re flying back to Chicago tomorrow, and we were wondering if you had your plans set for heading back to Nashville?”

“Oh, yeah. When you guys initially said you’d be leaving tomorrow, I booked a flight home for tomorrow afternoon.” He says and watches Steve’s lack of reaction. Wonders if he should have asked about joining them in Chicago until Steve gives an awkward smile. 

“Right, that makes sense.” He nods. “Well, we can all head to the airport together, at least?”

“Yeah, sure.” Eddie agrees, turning to look at Robin in the hopes of finding an explanation, but she turns away to take her turn in the shower, leaving Steve and Eddie together on the sofa.

~~~

Gareth picks Eddie up from the airport once he’s touched down in Nashville, and they head back to his house. Eddie throws himself into the comfort of his sofa, huddling up to a pillow with the intention of taking a nap, but his phone buzzes in his pocket. When he fishes it out, he smiles.

Stevie: Dustin has taken over the apartment, but we’re home. Hope you got home safe, too.

“Why are you smiling?” Gareth asks as Eddie is typing out his response.

“I’m not smiling,” Eddie responds instantly, schooling his expression and shoving his phone back in his pocket.

“Oh, so Steve texted you,” Gareth says, matter-of-factly, before scrolling on his own phone. “Want to order food? I’m hungry and you don’t have anything edible.”

“Why do you assume Steve texted me?” Eddie asks, frowning and sitting up straighter.

Gareth raises his eyebrow and glances over his phone at Eddie before he sighs. “Because you were making that face you’ve been making for the last month every time you text him, and you just got home from a week with him, so obviously he’s texting you again. Your turn to answer; food?”

Eddie stares at Gareth for a moment, watches as he turns his phone around to face Eddie, showing off the Uber Eats screen, before he scoffs and takes the phone to place his order. Before he hands it back to Gareth, though, he holds it just out of his reach. “What face am I making?”

“C’mon, Eddie, don’t play dumb.” Gareth laughs, but Eddie frowns deeper. Gareth frowns back, then. “You really haven’t put it together?”

“Put what together?” Eddie asks, finally handing Gareth his phone back. Gareth takes it, but doesn’t look away from Eddie until he answers.

“Dude, you’re in love with him.” He says, like it’s obvious, before going about placing his own order.

Eddie thinks for a moment. He knows he has feelings for Steve; finds him attractive and interesting and definitely wants to see if something is there. But to know that his friends can see through him puts him on edge, makes him defensive. “I’m not in love with him, we’re just friends.”

“Eddie,” Gareth laughs before he sees the serious look on Eddie’s face and he sighs. “Look, man. I’m not trying to start a fight or make you spiral or anything. I’m just saying. You leaned into a TikTok trend for him, voluntarily learned about the sport he plays, helped nurse him back to health after he got hurt and spent an extra week in LA to be with him longer. And now you’re texting him, again, like you did after we left Chicago. There’s something there, whether you want to admit it or not. Maybe it’s not love yet, but that’s where it’s heading.”

Silence settles over them, just the sound of Gareth’s short nails tapping against the screen of his phone, for a long moment. Eddie processes what he’s said, thinks it over, before flipping back to the text messages from Steve. He reads the words over and over before he decides on an answer.

Eddie: Glad you’re home safe. Miss you already.

He doesn’t have to wait long for a response, as Steve answers no more than two minutes later.

Steve: I miss you already, too, Eds.

Eddie considers responding but decides to tuck the phone back into his pocket instead. He drums his fingers against his knee, settling into a melody before he nudges Gareth’s leg with his foot. 

“Wanna help me set up the studio downstairs while we wait for the food?”

Gareth meets his look, raising an eyebrow. “Inspiration strikes over Steve Harrington?”

“I’ve got, like, four different ideas I started fleshing out in LA without instruments,” Eddie answers instead and ignores the smug look on Gareth’s face as they stand and make their way to the basement Eddie converted into a recording studio to get it ready while their food is delivered.