#healing steddie
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shares-a-vest · 11 months ago
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Update: 29/04/24 Now turned into a 1.9k fic here
Eddie begins making a Hellfire t-shirt and declares it is for Steve.
The Corroded Coffin boys oscillate between teasing and confused horror. Dustin is annoyed that it is Eddie who has managed to convince Steve to finally join a campaign, while Lucas is elated and beyond excited.
Mike and Will of course, do everything in their power to stop such a nightmare, including some ill-conceived scheming that is thwarted at every turn by Lucas.
But they needn't worry.
Because Eddie is just simply making Steve a Hellfire t-shirt to sleep in. It's a size too big. He paid extra for the softest cotton and it has short sleeves and a loose scoop neck so it doesn't scratch Steve's scar.
All so Steve can get a cozy night's sleep.
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loveinhawkins · 10 months ago
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Eddie surviving and going to see The Princess Bride when it comes out in 1987—and it’s a tentative thing, still, between him and Steve; they haven’t named it, but their hands still brush in the space between their seats, and really if Eddie were pushed, he’d say that they both know exactly what they’re heading towards, that they’re just floating between the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. That’s fine by him; they have time now, so much of it.
And the movie is charming and funny, but it’s not the romance or adventure that hits Eddie in the chest. It comes on unexpectedly, every time there’s a scene with the man reading to his grandson who’s sick in bed: suddenly Eddie can feel the softness of the bedsheets he had when he was young, when the move to Wayne’s was still raw and difficult, and it’s Wayne who’s reading to him softly, back when stories of things turning out fine were all Eddie had.
“Let’s see… where were we?” the grandfather mutters, and Eddie laughs because he can hear so much of Wayne in it, that gentle, wry humour. “Oh, yes. In the Pit of Despair.”
Eddie laughs again, choked. He’s clawed his way out of that damned pit so many times. His breathing catches at the thought that it’s been over a year since the deepest pit of them all, when Eddie once thought that the walls were far too high to climb.
“Woah, hey,” Steve whispers, “what’s wrong?”
Eddie shakes his head, smiling. “N-nothing.”
Their row is empty, and in the dark Steve reaches out, fingertips gently brushing underneath Eddie’s eye. They come away wet.
And Steve gives a little shushing noise, so that only they can hear, and it’s him who makes the leap, easily turning the page into the new chapter.
To some people Eddie’s first kiss would mean nothing at all—in their eyes, a chaste peck of comfort in a movie theatre would be just a speck in the grand history of the kiss itself. But for Eddie, it leaves them all behind.
“Farm boy,” he murmurs, when the movie’s over, smiling because the great, terrible story is done, and he is here; he is here. “Take me home?”
Steve smiles back, winks out the corner of his eye. “As you wish.”
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whathehonestfuk · 4 months ago
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Steddie s first kid is a boy, they're out with him and he starts having a meltdown/throwing a tantrum as kids do and some mom with a couple kids in tow come up and makes some comment about 'dad babysitting' completely ignoring the other one and starts trying to help calm the kid down by telling him things like 'big boys don't cry'
They're both like fuck all the way off with that shit he's a kid and a person he's allowed emotions and express them
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sentient-trash · 2 years ago
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Uhhhhhhh Steddie head over heels anamatic 👍
She’s a bit wonky she’s a bit off but it’s ok 🫶🫶
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trensu · 6 months ago
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Guess who's baaaaack! It's me, I'm back to writing. My laptop when kaput back in May and I've only recently gotten a replacement. In celebration of this, here's more of stasis in darkness. Enjoy :)
.
“Hello. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” the god said. 
“Years? But, why would you want–? I’m–I’m no one, Lord.”
“Don’t say that.”
The god’s voice hadn’t gotten louder, yet his words carried a force that made the room tremble. The air became heavy with it. Wayne’s breathing grew haggard under the pressure of the words. Steve tossed out any idea of false privacy and crossed the room in a few steps to kneel at the other side of the bed. He took Wayne’s free hand to anchor him. Wayne didn’t so much as twitch in his direction but his knuckles went white as he gripped Steve’s hand.
“You gave me your spoils and your stories every night. I felt your love in every word you spoke to me. You’re the reason I’ve been able to exist this long. Wayne Munson, you are the most important person in the world to me."
Wayne let out a wordless cry. The hand in Steve's shook. Steve viscerally remembered how it felt to have the god’s attention like that for the first time. He also remembered how guilty the god sounded after he realized the effect he had on mortals. With a slight grimace, Steve discreetly nabbed the Lord of Night's attention. 
"I think that was a little too much," Steve suggested cautiously in a low tone barely audible over Wayne's sobs. "Maybe dial it back a little?"
The Lord of Night nodded abashedly. When he spoke again, the pressure in his speech noticeably lessened though the love in his words remained.
“So, you see, I needed to meet you in person. To thank you.”
The last part made Wayne weep louder. The grip he had on Steve’s hand increased in strength, and Steve was sort of relieved Wayne was an old man because even this frail, his hands were pretty damn strong. If he’d been any younger, Steve would’ve had bruises for sure. The god waited patiently as Wayne collected himself.
“My Lord, y-you–” Wayne gasped as his crying subsided. “I don’t deserve–”
“Wayne, you crazy old man, are you going to argue with your god?” the Lord of Night said in the same teasing tone he used with Steve all those nights in his pilgrimage. Wayne’s eyes widened.
“N-No! I’d never–!”
The god laughed, playful and bright as a star. Wayne halted his protests to stare in awe again. 
“You know, I usually encourage a bit of dissent but this time, I’m putting my foot down. You do deserve this, okay?”
Wayne nodded dazedly. He still watched the god with soft, warm eyes. His hand twitched in Steve’s as if he wanted to reach up to touch the god. Steve loosened his grip to allow it but Wayne didn’t follow through with the motion.
“...you remind me of someone,” Wayne whispered. The Lord of Night tilted his head curiously.
“Do I?” he asked. At Wayne’s nod, he added, “I hope it’s someone good. I know what people say about me these days, and let me tell you, it’s not super flattering. King of Darkness this and monster herder that, blah, blah, mean and scary, blah.”
“I know better than to pay any mind to hearsay,” Wayne replied. "I’ve found that most people are fools, my Lord." 
The Lord of Night laughed again. Wayne looked delighted. 
The rest of the night continued along the same line. The Lord of Night listened eagerly to Wayne’s every word as he reminisced about past heists and recalled fond childhood memories. Steve kept to himself, for the most part, letting the Lord of Night and his last believer bask in each other’s presence. Wayne stayed awake as long as he could but finally fell asleep as dawn approached. The Lord of Night began to fade as the first rays of the morning peeked through the bedroom window.
“Watch over him for me, please?” the Lord of Night asked Steve. “I’ll be back tonight.”
“Of course, Lord,” Steve replied. 
The sun broke past the horizon and the Lord of Night vanished. Steve took the stone from the bedside table. He wrapped it up carefully in cloth before returning it to his satchel. That level of care probably wasn’t necessary considering it was solid stone but it was the only thing they knew would keep the god tethered to this plane so far from his last shrine. Steve was charged with carrying his god's tether and he would not let him down by being careless with it.
It was also the only thing he had been given that belonged to his god. Typically, a holy warrior would be granted a symbol of their faith by a temple priest once a god had accepted the holy warrior’s offered service. Most of the time it would be a simple pendant or bracelet with a god’s sigil; a mass produced thing any follower could obtain, the only difference being that a holy warrior’s token would carry a particular blessing from the high priest. A holy warrior would carry that as a sign of their commitment until they’ve earned a more prestigious item to replace it during their years of service.
Steve’s journey so far has been as atypical as it could get. Most warriors traveled to their god's grandest temple. They recited that god's specific prayer for a holy warrior's offering, witnessed by a high priest who would then reveal whether the offering was accepted. Steve's god had no official prayers of any sort, much less temples or clergy. Steve's god couldn't really remember his own symbol aside from a vague outline of it; not nearly enough for it to be inscribed on even the simplest of tokens. 
Regardless, Steve wouldn't trade his experience for anything. Most holy warriors toiled for years, even decades, before getting a chance to meet their god. Steve met his god nearly at the beginning though he hadn't known it at the time. He'd been able to see him and speak to him. Steve’s humble offering of servitude had been accepted directly by his god rather than by priestly proxy. So what if his god wasn't able to grant him a token for his pledge? His presence was a privilege Steve would take over any boon.
It was a sentiment Steve knew Wayne understood. Steve scooted his chair closer to the bed where the old man lay sleeping. He wrapped a hand around Wayne's wrist to track his weak pulse, and settled in for his vigil.
��
Steve woke Wayne a handful of times to make sure he drank some water or ate some of the vegetable soup Steve had thrown together using whatever he’d picked from the garden the day before. They chatted for a while; Wayne telling Steve about his life before age and sickness caught up to him. Eventually, Steve was able to coax him back to sleep when it became obvious his energy was fading.
At some point in the day, Wayne’s temperature began to rise. Nothing worrisome yet, but dread trickled into Steve’s veins regardless. The old man had been fighting whatever ailed him for a while now. If a fever overcame him, Steve doubted Wayne would survive it.
When the Lord of Night appeared alongside the fading sunset, he seemed as worried as Steve. Wayne sat in bed, propped up by pillows Steve had strategically placed. His eyes were rheumy but steady.
“You’ve seen the Door already, haven’t you?” the Lord of Night asked Wayne dejectedly.
Wayne’s gaze strayed from the god. He glanced at the corner opposite of the bedroom door. His hands shook as he tried to point that direction. Steve didn't see any door there. The god took Wayne's hand between his own, tangible to his last believer even as he appeared more translucent than the night before.
“It showed up earlier today,” Wayne whispered. The god nodded.
“You don’t have to answer yet, but soon. Once you go through the Door, you’ll be in Death's domain. No god is allowed to enter there besides him. I would have lost my chance to meet you if we’d been delayed any longer.”
“Good thing you have Ser Steve. He got you here real quick from what he told me,” Wayne said with a crooked smile.
“Has he been talking himself up?” the god asked amusedly. “Trying to impress the boss?”
“It’s my first quest,” Steve butted in with mild exasperation borne of embarrassment. He hadn’t expected Wayne to mention him at all during his communion with the Lord of Night. “I have to make a good impression.”
“To make up for the first impression, huh?” the Lord of Night teased. 
Oh no, Steve thought when he caught Wayne’s curious look. He wanted to hide his face in his hands. That would be childish. Steve was a man so he was above that, unfortunately.
“Wayne,” the Lord of Night said with palpable mischief. “In exchange for all the stories you’ve given me these many years, what if I told you how I got my very first holy warrior?”
“I didn’t know better,” Steve groaned weakly in an effort to stop the story before it began in earnest. The Lord of Night made a shushing motion in his direction. 
“It would be a privilege, Lord,” Wayne said with matching mischief.
“Settle in, my loyal follower, and listen closely,” the Lord of Night began with exuberance. “I call this tale The Trial of Nine Nights.”
The rest of the night, the god recounted Steve’s pilgrimage. The way he told it painted Steve as some sort of gallant hero. It was suspenseful and whimsical. It didn’t sound like Steve’s experience at all. Yet every word was true, told with a flair that Steve himself would never have imagined. Wayne had hung on his god’s every word, despite the sporadic interruptions caused by coughing fits.
“The way you tell stories…” Wayne said faintly between coughs as the story wound to an end. “You…really do remind me of…someone. My little starmaker*. He was…” His voice trailed off weakly as he tried to catch his breath again.
“Rest now. Tell me about him tonight, Wayne,” the Lord of Night commanded as he disappeared with the arrival of dawn.
Wayne’s temperature seemed to climb with the sun. Steve did what he could to help. He stripped the bed of blankets and draped cold, damp towels over Wayne’s brow. More than once Wayne had asked Steve to answer the door.
“Someone’s knocking,” Wayne insisted.
“I’ve checked already,” Steve lied. He hadn’t heard a single knock all day, much less one coming from the very door-less spot Wayne kept indicating. “No one’s there.”
Wayne drifted in and out of a restless slumber. Despite Steve’s efforts, the fever had not lowered by nightfall. The Lord of Night paced at the foot of Wayne’s bed with a caged restlessness. Wayne had yet to wake up. 
“I don’t think he’s going to make it. Can you do anything for him?” Steve asked, hesitantly. “You came here to help him, didn’t you?”
“No,” the Lord of Night said shortly. “I can’t. I’m not a god of medicine. I’m not a healer.”
Each word was said with increasingly helpless frustration.
“I’m not strong enough to calm his dreams. I can’t ease his pain,” the Lord of Night said angrily. “At this rate, I won’t even be able to apologize to him.”
“Apologize for what?” Steve asked incredulously. Steve’s question went unheard. The Lord of Night tugged at his hood as if trying to hide his not-face. He gave up his pacing and slumped defeatedly on the chair beside Wayne’s bed.
“His family has sustained me for so long. He’s so devoted to me, and I keep failing him,” the god said, voice thick with shame. The brooding silence that followed was unlike the Lord of Night’s usual demeanor.
Steve wanted to protest the god’s claim. He was tempted to ask why the god believed he’d failed his last follower. Steve had seen people who’ve scorned and rejected their gods for a multitude of reasons. Wayne had not behaved like any of those people. Wayne had been so happy to see the god, Steve couldn’t imagine Wayne wanting an apology of any sort.
Before Steve could steel himself to ask, Wayne finally stirred awake.The Lord of Night straightened and drew the chair closer to his last follower. Steve situated himself near the corner Wayne had claimed to see a door. There wasn’t anything Steve could realistically achieve by placing himself between Wayne and the unseen door. When Death’s Door knocked, there was nothing a mortal being could do to keep it from opening. Regardless, Steve hoped he could provide some semblance of comfort by standing guard. 
Wayne’s eyes were glassy. He lay limp and disoriented, making not a sound outside his labored breathing. Neither the Lord of Night nor Steve spoke. Steve didn’t want to startle the man nor bring his attention to the unseen door. After a few minutes, Wayne finally noticed his bedside companion. 
“You,” he croaked in a daze. “I know you.”
“Yeah, it’s me.” The somber tone went unnoticed by Wayne whose entire face brightened with an unexpected joy. 
“Eddie,” Wayne said shakily. 
“What?”
“Eddie, you’re here,” Wayne said with more love and joy than Steve had ever heard from another person. He felt a momentary flash of envy that someone could hold another so dear, before it hit him that Wayne was speaking to the Lord of Night. The god seemed as dumbstruck as Steve over it.
“Is…is that me?” the Lord of Night asked. The god sounded so young and lost. It reminded Steve of Dustin and his friends when they were small. It inspired all the same protective instincts.
“‘course it’s you, Eddie,” Wayne said fondly. 
“Eddie,” the Lord of Night whispered. “Oh, it is. It is me. I’m here.” 
The words rang through the air. The finality in them nearly deafened Steve. The words were a realization that shifted the entire cosmos. The air he breathed, the light he saw, the very world he perceived had changed fundamentally. It was a change so loud and obvious, Steve was certain every human left on earth and everyone beyond the Door knew it happened. Yet between one blink and the next, the world remained the same as it ever was. Everything that had been still was and would continue to be for as long as the stars burn.
Inexplicably, Steve experienced a bout of vertigo at the shift that had and hadn’t happened. He fought back a wave of nausea that accompanied it.
“Eddie,” Wayne rasped over the rattling of his weak lungs. No longer translucent, the god appeared solid and real in a way he hadn’t even at the shrine where Steve first encountered him. Wayne’s wrinkled hand reached out to gently cup the Lord of Night’s cheek.
"Hey, Uncle Wayne," the Lord of Night said with a new voice. 
"My starmaker, I missed you. So much. But how're you here? You were gone, you di–"
"We didn't want you to be alone," Eddie, Lord of Night, responded thickly, leaning into the hand and covering it with his own.  "We wanted to thank you for taking care of us all these years."
"Don’t,” Wayne wheezed, teary. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eddie. You deserved so much more than your pa or me ever gave you."
"No! No, Uncle Wayne, don't apologize," he said earnestly. "You were perfect. You gave us a home when pa died. We were so little and you protected us. You loved us. That's all we ever wanted."
“Oh, Eddie,” Wayne said in a heartbroken rasp. “That damn door’s been knocking all day. Who'll take care of you when I'm gone, Eddie?" 
"Don't you worry about that, Uncle Wayne. Steve's gonna look after me.”
“Are you sure?”
The Lord of Night took off his hood and turned back to look at Steve for the first time since he sat himself at Wayne’s side. All the air left Steve’s lungs in one fell swoop. His god had a face.
His god was beautiful.
The Lord of Night’s skin remained pale, providing a stark contrast to his large, dark brown eyes glittered with bittersweet joy and sorrow. His lips, full and a soft shade of pink, were pulled into a wide, mischievous grin that dimpled his cheeks. His dark eyebrows were almost hidden under wild curls. His hair draped over the slope of his shoulders and matched his eyes wonderfully.
Steve willed himself to stay steadfast and strong under the god’s gaze. The Lord of Night’s grin twisted a bit as if he wasn't entirely pleased by what he saw. The nausea from before came back because Steve knew what people looked like when he'd disappointed them. As usual, he had no idea what he'd done wrong.
“Yeah, I’m sure. He already promised,” Eddie, the Lord of Night, said. He turned back to Wayne and gently wiped the sweat off the old man's brow. 
“Good,” Wayne said with a. “You need someone takin’ care of you, the way you get in trouble all the time.”
“We weren’t that bad,” Eddie said with a watery smile. After a pause, Eddie continued reluctantly. “Uncle Wayne, if you need to answer the Door, you can. I won’t be alone.”
“Yeah,” Wayne murmured. “I’m tired, Eddie.”
“You won’t be for long, I promise, just answer the Door.”
Wayne’s breathing slowed. His eyes drooped closed. Eddie clung to his hand until it went lax. A choked sound escaped him when Wayne’s breathing stopped. Steve instinctively stepped forward to comfort him but Eddie abruptly stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. He whirled around and stumbled towards the empty space Steve left behind. 
“You better take care of him. Wayne is a good man, he’s earned–” Eddie said to…the wall? But stopped and reeled back. His mouth curved down in a scowl. Eddie’s eyes were dark and glowering as he stared at something there that Steve himself could not see.
“Oh, fuck you, I know I can’t do anything to you but–”
Eddie stopped again. He looked like he wanted to punch something. Or someone?
“I just want to know that he’ll be happy and saf–hey, asshole, I’m still talking you, don’t you dare– FUCK,” Eddie shouted at nothing. He panted in anger. Steve cleared his throat.
“My Lord?”
“I forgot how much of a dick he is. It’s not like I was asking for details! I don’t fucking care what’s past his stupid Door. It’s not a crime to want your family to, like, go somewhere good after. He could’ve just said yes or no!” Eddie ranted.
“My Lord, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Oh,” Eddie paused. “Right. You wouldn’t. And you shouldn’t. Not yet. Not for a long time, hopefully.”
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*starmaker - so this is a reference to some lore i dropped in the previous scene during some edits I made after I had posted it on tumblr. basically, the legend explains why bedtime stories are a thing and that the lord of night creates a star for every story that impresses him. a really good book or author will get called a starmaker, though to the general population it's just a thing people say to denote greatness in stories without context of where the saying came from.
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and now we're all caught up with what i've written so far, wow! but don't worry, i still have plenty more to write, stay tuned.
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imfinereallyy · 1 year ago
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Steve is losing it. He has been here before, mind stretched beyond belief, cracking, snapping in half.
He squats down behind the counter at family video, hands around his knees, head bent into his lap. Steve rocks from heel to toe, heel to toe, so the rest of his body never hits the floor. He takes a deep breath, trying to push past tears. Push, push, push.
The breath stutters, Steve sobs.
He needs to get it together. He needs to push beyond what’s happening right now. Steve can do it; he’s done it alone before. He’s always alone. No one can see him like this. He would filled with shame if they did. Not because he thinks they would care. No, Steve worries they wouldn’t care very much, if at all.
Silly Steve. Always alone. Can’t move on. Always alone. Can’t break free from the past. Always alone. Can’t look beyond his own bullshit. Always alone.
Always Alone.
Always Alone.
Always—
There is a hand on Steve’s back. Gentle. Cautious.
Someone is here.
“Stevie?” The voice says softly.
Steve knows that voice. He gently raises his head and blinks away the tears. “Eds?” His voice creaks roughly; he worries for a brief moment if he has been shouting.
“Stevie…” Through the blur, Steve can see Eddie’s eyes soften at Steve’s disheveled state. A shameful heat bursts through his veins.
“Steve,” Eddie says a bit firmer, but not harsh, grabbing Steve’s attention. “What do you need?”
Steve is surprised for a moment. Eddie doesn’t ask, are you okay? Or how can help? No. Eddie asks, what do you need?
Steve shatters. “Please,” is all Steve gets out before collapsing in Eddie’s arms as he sobs. Eddie doesn’t say much, just sways them back and forth and strokes Steve’s hair.
Steve feels safe here.
***
just a little thing, inspired by my panic attack today. projecting and writing, my fav. also sorry if it makes no sense. anxiety really wiped me out.
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artiststarme · 1 year ago
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It's No Secret... Anymore
Thank you to @mx-jinxous for the prompt! This took a really long time to write but it was so much fun playing with everyone's dynamics. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!
~*~*~*~
Steve felt like he was dreaming. It felt like he was looking through someone else’s eyes, dissociating far from his own body. He couldn’t feel the weight of Eddie’s slowly-fading body in his arms or the burning of the wounds in his sides. He wasn’t aware of where he was or if anyone was following him. He was purely relying on muscle memory and muscle memory alone. 
He didn’t see the speeding car in front of him that swerved into a nearby bush and fence post. He hardly noticed the hands pulling him backward and out of the road. He came back to himself though once he heard his brother’s voice. 
“Steve? Steve-O? Come on buddy, you’re worrying me here. Where have you been? I haven't seen your ass all week. Come on man, are you… are you fucking bleeding? Brother, answer me. We can’t be out here, there’s an earthquake going on. Come with me.”
Steve blinked just to come face to face with Phil. He was shining his flashlight on Eddie’s face against Steve’s shoulder but his eyes were focused directly on Steve’s.
“You with me, bro?” His mustache twitched unhappily and Steve rushed to answer. 
“Um, no. Not really. I think he’s dying and I kinda might be too. And I think my friends are missing? Where am I?” Steve couldn’t get his thoughts together cohesively. His mind was fractured, overcome with too much trauma in too little time. 
Phil just looked more concerned at his words with his face becoming vaguely panicked once he looked at Eddie. He looked quickly up at Steve, down at Eddie, then back at Steve. “Is this Eddie Munson? The murderer Eddie Munson? The Eddie Munson that has been on the run all week? Good golly Steve, I’m trying not to curse but what the fuck?”
Steve just looked at the pinched expression of pain that Eddie held and murmured, “he’s my friend.”
“Oh my god, Steve. Fine, we’ll deal with this later. Think you can walk to my squad car? I kinda damaged the front end but I’m sure it's semi-driveable. Powell’s tied up with the gates to hell opening up, I have plenty of time to take care of you.”
“Yeah, I can- I can walk,” and he could with the support of Phil. He felt his brother supporting both his and Eddie’s weight until they were deposited into the backseat of the patrol unit. 
“And uh, is the girl hiding in the bushes with you? She’s kinda been watching us for awhile. You might have a stalker, little bro.” He shined his flashlight over to the bush and saw a sandy bob duck behind the foliage. 
“Robin?” Steve muttered, still out of it and only on the verge of consciousness. 
“Buckley, is that you? Come on, you’re coming with us back to Steve’s place. Let’s go,” Phil waved the light between the two. He had both hands on his hips and stood like a disappointed middle-aged dad. “I don’t have time to be doing things willy-nilly. Let’s go!”
Robin poked her head out of the bushes and scooted gracelessly over to the car until she was able to bump elbows with Steve. They both relaxed a smidgen within the same space, the two brain cells reuniting after a stressful ten minutes apart.
Phil hopped in the driver’s seat and bumped his head against the steering wheel. What had this idiot gotten himself into now?
~*~*~*~
By the time Phil arrived at his house at the edge of the suburbs, all three kids were out cold in his backseat. He stood at the open back door for a moment before sighing and lugging first Robin, then Eddie, then Steve into his living room, huffing with exertion all the while. He would definitely have to cut back on the station donuts and start exercising again. Right after he dealt with the dying fugitive on his brother’s couch, the blood seeping through Steve’s shirt, and his brother’s unconscious best friend that was snoring atrociously. 
Jesus Christ. 
Well, he had plenty of practice with medical care from his EMT training so he got to work. He got the first aid kit out of the squad car and started with the murderous Munson. Phil didn’t know what had happened to these kids but it couldn’t be any good. Munson’s entire torso was torn apart like he’d been gnawed on by a wild animal. It wasn’t bleeding too bad but he was missing chunks of skin, so much so that Phil couldn’t sew him up with just sutures. Hell, this kid was going to need skin grafts. A lot of them. 
He put gauze on the worst of the wounds then cautiously stepped over to Steve. What he’d seen on Munson made him hesitant to look at the damage but surely it couldn’t be worse than that. Right? As soon as he lifted Steve’s shirt, he came immediately to two conclusions. 
1. Steve had a lot more chest hair than he did and that was totally unfair.
2. The wounds on Steve’s abdomen were deep, infected, and horrific. 
Just like with Munson, there was nothing to close. All he saw were missing chunks of skin and muscle that should have been in his sides. The marred remains were covered in grime and yellowish puss that made the entire room smell of infection. 
Fuck, he couldn’t help them here. He had to get them, all three of them because he wasn’t touching an unconscious girl for anything, to a hospital. But that begged the question; which hospital? Munson… Eddie was wanted all through the state of Indiana for at least three murders and an assault. If he took him to any nearby hospital, he would be arrested and surely there was more to the story if Steve was protecting him so much. He couldn’t let one of Steve’s only friends get arrested without hearing the story from the both of them. 
He had to take these three up to a hospital in Illinois. Chicago was roughly four hours away, he knew from his and Steve’s annual visits to their great aunt in Evanston. It was a risk, both for aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive as well as hoping he survived that long of a drive, but his gut told him to trust his brother on this one. So that’s what he did. He loaded the three teens back into his patrol car and mumbled swears under his breath when he passed the “Leaving Hawkins” sign. He hoped to all that was mighty that he was making a good call. 
~*~*~*~
Steve woke up to familiar voices; one hushed and one screeching. 
“You kidnapped them?! You’re a cop, I thought you would help them but instead you drove them all the way to goddamn Chicago like some middle-aged pervert loser?” Steve came around to a loud argument between what sounded like Dustin and Phil. It was weird though because he’d never introduced the two. 
“Hey, listen here shithead, words hurt. I am not middle-aged, I’m 28. And why would I kidnap my own brother? I can legally take him anywhere, it's practically my birthright. I don’t have to go through all the work of kidnapping him.” Phil shook his head at Dustin.
“Stop trying to trick me, I know Eddie is an only child!”
“Munson?! I’m Steve’s big brother, you little gremlin. Can’t you see the resemblance?” He gestured between where Steve was groggily looking up at him and then back at himself. 
“No, but I can’t see anything past your outrageous mustache.” Steve saw Phil’s jaw drop and knew that Dustin had crossed a line. 
“You short fucker, that is too far! I take a lot of pride in this ‘outrageous mustache’,” Phil put air quotes around the offending remake before pointing an aggressive finger in Dustin’s direction. “I will absolutely take you off the visitation list, toothless. Do not test me.” 
“Don’t threaten me, I’ll report you to the authorities!” Dustin countered. 
“I am the authorities!” Phil dropped all decorum and screamed at practically the top of his lungs. 
Sensing enough was enough, Steve tried to push himself up to a sitting position before a burning in his sides caused him to fall back down. Both men (or one man and Dustin) stopped their squabbling and rushed to his sides.
“Steve, you’re hurt so don’t try to get up. Shit kid, let me get a nurse or something. You weren’t doing too hot.” With that Phil sprinted out of the room, presumably to the nurse’s station and Steve was left with Dustin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin. 
He looked blearily at all of them before asking the most important question, “where’s Eddie?”
They all parted to reveal Eddie lying in the bed next to him. His neck and chest were covered with bandages but his face looked peaceful. There were no cuffs on his wrists as Steve assumed there would be. He laid back again and let out a sigh. Everything was as it should be, he could finally relax.
“Um so Steve, don’t be mad but your brother can be really persuasive when he wants to be and you never introduced him as your brother so I just kind of assumed that we were getting captured by the police and that it was going to be so much worse than the Russians because I always thought Officer Callahan was kind of psycho. But then I woke up here and he bought me Cheetos so everything is fine. Except it's kind of not because you and Eddie have been out for a couple of days and I told Big Not-Harrington about the Upside Down and now he’s really worried. Why did you have to stay asleep so long, dingus? I missed you!”
Steve honestly zoned out when he heard “Cheetos” and only tuned back in when Robin, the usual physical affection-hater, threw herself on top of him in a hug. He withheld the grunt of pain and held her back just as hard. 
“What the hell just happened, bro? Like that was a lot of words, little bird lady. Woah.”
Steve didn’t know if he was hallucinating the long-haired surfer in a Hawaiian outfit or if Vecna had somehow managed to melt his mind after all but he had never been more confused in his life to see the new visitor make themselves known. 
“Who the fuck is that?” He muttered in absolute bafflement. 
Dustin sighed as he too wrestled a hug from Steve, “that’s Argyle. Come on, Steve. Keep up.”
“Like the sock pattern? How many drugs am I on right now?!”
~*~*~*~
“... and that’s kind of why I didn’t tell you about the Upside Down,” Steve finished from his seat beside Eddie, their hands tangled together as they both sat across from Phil. 
He looked at both of them with a completely deadpan stare. “Again, but the truth this time.”
Eddie huffed in annoyance. “We are telling you the truth, man! An evil wizard guy named Vecna-”
“Slash Henry, slash One,” Steve and Robin interjected in unison.
“-possessed four teenagers to end the world or something and broke their bodies apart with his mind. Then the angry mob thought it was me but I would never kill anyone, especially not Chrissy. She was always really nice to me and remembered my band from the talent show in middle school. And then we got stuck in Hell where evil demon bats ate our flesh and tentacles ripped through the earth. Then we saved Nancy from the evil mind melt powers by playing her favorite song. After that, we made a plan and she shot Vecna and killed him while Dustin and I were decoys where I was attacked.”
“Then I went back for Eddie and carried him out where you almost ran us over. The end,” Steve emphasized the finale with a deliberate nod of his still-aching head. 
Phil looked at them with the most exasperation Steve had ever seen in his life. He let out a pitying chuckle, his poor brother didn’t sign up for this. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
Phil's eyes rolled so hard that Steve could tell he saw stars. He could almost see the scream being prepared in his throat and couldn't gather enough strength to escape it.
"STEVEN MICHAEL HARRINGTON, WHAT THE MOTHERLOVING FUCK?!"
"Look Philly, I'll say it one more time then I'm done, okay? It first started way back when Will Byers went missing in 1983..."
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flowercrowngods · 1 year ago
Text
It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.
Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.
It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.
Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.
Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.
It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.
It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.
Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.
They have a couch now. A sofa.
It's so fucking unreal.
He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.
And it feels really fucking big.
At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.
For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.
The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.
It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.
And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."
"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.
Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.
Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.
"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.
"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."
Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.
Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.
And it's so unreal.
"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."
Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.
"Why's it crazy, angel?"
He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.
"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."
Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.
"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."
"We've got a couch now."
Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.
"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."
Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."
And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.
But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.
And they have each other.
They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.
In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.
Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.
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shares-a-vest · 10 months ago
Text
Just a Shirt (Read on ao3)
wc: 1.9k | Rated: T | cw: Mild descriptions of Steve's s4 injuries (mostly the scar on his neck), Hospital mention, Brief mention of nightmares
Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Post s4 Fix-it (Everyone Lives), Hellfire, Fluff and Angst (Happy Ending), Love Confessions, Injury, Cuddling
Eddie makes Steve a customised Hellfire shirt, just for him. Based off this ficlet/headcanon. But the BIGGEST thank you goes to @tangerinesteve (formally babydollbaron) for their incredible tags below. They gave me the biggest and softest brainworms. I hope I did your wonderful ideas justice!
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“Here-p,” Eddie mumbles, pushing a too-neatly folded shirt into Steve’s hands.
“Uh, thanks,” his boyfriend hums, quirking a brow in confusion.
Eddie shrugs the whole thing off for good measure because it’s just a shirt – that’s all it is.
... But not really.
Like, at all.
He looks away, avoiding Steve’s gaze. While their relationship isn’t too new for gifts, it might be too fresh for a t-shirt that screams, ‘You are part of me and I can see that you are in pain and I think I can fix it. Nay, I need to make you comfortable’.
Yeah… it’s perhaps a little too premature for something that says all that.
So Eddie looks at the floor, his beige sock blending into the similarly-coloured carpet that lines Steve’s bedroom. His foot really only looks like an actual foot and not a patch of carpet thanks to the hole in his sock that is currently exposing his pinky toe.
It’s just a shirt, he desperately reminds himself as he catches Steve unfurling it out of the corner of his eye.
It’s just a shirt.
A customised Hellfire shirt he made especially for Steve.
One that is two sizes too big, made of the softest cotton and led to an emptying of his wallet to obtain. A Hellfire shirt that has short sleeves and a loose, scooped neck Eddie fashioned himself after borrowing a sewing book from the library. A neckline he sewed on Mrs Pemberton’s machine after crossing the trailer park and answering a slew of questions from an all too inquisitive Max Mayfield.
It’s a Hellfire shirt in its logo only – despite what his friends might think. Or the fuss all his pea-brained lost little sheepie buddies kicked up along the way.
They have been a total nightmare these past few weeks, scheming and plotting and sabotaging like a little hoard of gremlins. But Eddie supposes he can really only blame himself.
He should have never said anything, never asked Gareth for the original master copy of the Hellfire logo he knows his best friend keeps filed away in secret on the rare occasions they let in new members. Or to get new t-shirts printed in instances of spilled beverage-based stain emergencies. But then Gareth of course squealed to Jeff, who teased Eddie mercilessly before blabbing to Freak, who, well… Freaked about the possibility of a jock joining Hellfire.
The shock. The horror! Oh, the humanity!
And then came what was nothing short of a campaign via Dustin, Mike and Will, all collectively working to not only prevent Eddie from something he wasn’t even going to do in the first place but to also create a drama so seismic that rumours got around the whole of Hawkins that one Eddie Munson would no longer be running his little ‘demonic’ social club.
Or at least that’s what Wayne said Ernie at the plant had told him that his son had said.
The only thing is, Eddie feels more than a little sorry for Lucas Sinclair, a kid now sulking around, utterly crestfallen that his favourite Laundry Basket Friend isn’t also secretly a full-blown nerd.
It’s just that Eddie wanted to give Steve a nice, soft, comfy shirt he had hoped he would look at just like he is right now.
Besides, Steve had admitted that he liked the Hellfire logo months back when they first started dating. Told Eddie it was, “So creative, man”, after expressing some mild disappointment that he hadn’t shown up for their first date wearing it.
He smiles at the memory, Steve’s eyes lighting up as soon as he hopped into the Beemer, far too eager to head off to Benny’s Diner that he hadn’t even bothered to let Steve chivalrously walk up to the front stoop of the new and improved Casa de Munson.
“Eddie…” Steve says, his voice just above a whisper and sounding just as soft as the too-important shirt in his grip.
“Don’t worry,” he snorts, “I’m not making you join or anything it’s just… You said you haven’t been sleeping well…”
He gestures with his hand, searching for the right words. Better words that won’t sound so monumental and weighted as Steve’s eyes trail right along the shirt’s scooped neckline.
The hem is probably a little flimsy, but hopefully, Steve won’t fucking claw at it like the old Tigers gym shirt he almost tore in two a few weeks back after bolting upright in a sweat after a nightmare. That is what did it – really set Eddie on his mission. Seeing Steve’s sniffles turn to tears and how he tried to hide them away, shrugging Eddie off before rushing to the ensuite bathroom.
He had come back a few minutes later, eyes red as he hugged his arms across himself, appearing small and frightened but acting cold as ice.
“Yeah…” Steve nods before mouthing what appears to be the word, “soft”, as he balls the fabric between his fingers.
“Hell, I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Eddie continues to ramble, “Just… tossing and turning. Also your… Y’know…”
He gestures to his own neck, referring to the still-reddened scar around Steve’s. One that Eddie knows leaves his throat scratchy and hoarse at the slightest provocation. A mark that nosey townspeople gawk at when Steve is at work, leaving him all embarrassed and well, not like Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington at all.
And Steve hadn’t even told Eddie about that part. Nope. He found out from Robin, who swung by the mechanic one afternoon, inconsolable about her best friend spending their shift at Family Video hidden away in Keith Anderson’s stinky loser palace of an office.
“Mhmm,” Steve nods, pursing his lips.
Eddie knows he isn’t mad – it’s just something his boyfriend doesn’t talk about. That he doesn’t like talking about.
He needn’t ramble anymore, really – fill the silence between them or attempt to explain himself because, in a flash, Steve slips off his tight-fitting navy polo and replaces it with his new Hellfire shirt.
And Eddie can’t help but beam at a job well done.
It hangs nicely. Loose enough to sleep in, but not billowing so much to swallow that physique entirely. The neckline sits just where he had hoped too, much lower than the regular Hellfire shirts, scooped below Steve’s collar bones so that even if it stretches in his sleep, it couldn’t possibly pull and tug at his scar.
It’s perfect.
Exactly what he wanted to give Steve, who looks down at the devilish, very metal logo – a sight that is sure to scare off his snooty parents for good if they ever see it.
Before he knows it, Steve lunges for him and Eddie feels his cheeks squish against his boyfriend’s hands as he is kissed.
And kissed.
And kissed some more.
Kisses that last for long enough and grow softer with every peck that Eddie soon feels his legs buckling and he forgets altogether what they are even doing up here, in Steve’s bedroom, in the middle of the day on a warm summer afternoon.
It’s just the he –
“ – I love you,” Steve smiles when he comes up for air and – 
His eyes blow wide in an instant.
And Eddie is sure his own do too – maybe even pop right out of his goddamn skull with an audible gasp in there somewhere as well as they both fully realise what has just been said.
Steve loves him?
Just the same as he loves Steve. So much that he is blurting it out now, in the middle of his bedroom on a warm, mid-summer afternoon – perhaps months too early when they are probably, most likely still in the honeymoon phase.
All because of one perfect t-shirt.
Steve’s brow pinches together and his jaw goes slack as he looks away.
“I…” he trails off, drumming his fingers on Eddie’s shoulders.
“Stevie...” he tuts, smiling back at him.
He steps closer still, closing any remaining space between them as he loops his arms around his partner’s middle and squeezes him tight.
Eddie backs them a step back, then another. Then another until he is at a safe enough distance to rock Steve back and collapse onto the bed.
They fall with a conjoined, “Hmphf” – one that knocks the wind out of Eddie’s already breathless lungs and has Steve momentarily distracted away from whatever inner turmoil he had going on a moment ago. As he lands on top of his boyfriend, Eddie gets a feel of the shirt, now warmed by Steve’s permanently hot body temperature. A feeling that makes it seem even softer.
Like it is already worn in and loved.
He wants to ball a handful of it up in his fist and never let go.
But Eddie forces himself to sit upright, settling down in a straddled position to hover over Steve’s clothed form. He smiles down at the sight beneath him, his giddiness short-lived and quickly fading as a big, brown and now glistening set of panicked eyes return.
“Stevie,” he whispers, running his hand up Steve’s torso.
He ghosts his fingers with a featherlight touch over the printed logo, an illustration he had first scribbled on the back of his math book in his junior year.
Eddie leans forward and takes Steve’s hands, clasping them tight and one by one, he brings them to rest above his head where his super-soft signature swoop is sticking every which way, mussed by the bedspread.
He can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight – momentarily giving into the greedy feeling he gets when he thinks about how this Steve is the one he gets all to himself.
But Steve frowns, those expressive brows looking positively pained now as if only one thing could possibly soften them.
“I love you too,” Eddie says, freeing a hand to delicately pluck at Steve’s loosened neckline, “Obviously.”
“You do?” Steve asks.
Eddie nods as a visible relief washes through Steve’s eyes, leaving his brows to soften up so much he wonders if his boyfriend might now cry.
And before he can say or do anything more, Steve bolts upright, once again leaving Eddie feeling winded and more than a lot flushed this time as he wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his neck, snuffling close like the world’s cuddliest puppy.
They stay like this for a long while, simply breathing in sync as they hold each other. And soon Steve begins to sink, his body going lax as his head slips down onto Eddie’s shoulder.
“I really wanna sleep,” he hums as tears seep through Eddie’s own plain black t-shirt.
“You wanna try now?” Eddie offers, pulling back enough to give an encouraging little smile.
Steve nods, refusing to let him go as they lower down together as one, his eyes fluttering shut when his head meets the bedspread.
“Wanna get all cozy under the covers?” Eddie continues, nudging at the bedding.
He really doesn’t want to move too much more – not when Steve looks like this.
Relaxed.
Loved.
Comfortable and wrapped up in a softness Eddie would like to keep him cocooned in forever.
But as he always does, Steve moves for them and rolls to the side. He snuggles in close, burrowing his head between the crook of Eddie’s neck and the mattress all protected and safe. Eddie palms around for the blanket and haphazardly wraps what sliver of it is free around them, shielding his partner a little more for good measure.
It’s good like this.
Calm. Warm.
Soft.
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loveinhawkins · 9 months ago
Text
The squeak of Dustin’s sneakers fades away as he heads back to the hospital parking lot, where his mom’s waiting for him.
Eddie watches the door to his room swing shut—the movement as boisterous as Dustin’s entrance had been; for the whole visit, he’d acted almost as if nothing had ever happened.
“You know,” he says once the door’s fully closed, “I kinda thought he hated me.”
He tries to make it come out like a joke—maybe then, it won’t hurt quite as much. He should’ve known that Steve would see straight through it.
“That’s not fair,” Steve says quietly, from where he sits in the corner of the room—arms folded, eyes sharp.
The silence feels damning. Eddie doesn’t dare break it: just sits there and lets it sting.
But then—
“That’s not fair,” Steve repeats, a little softer, “to him or to you.”
Eddie can’t look him in the eye. If he does, he’s going to say something that’s true but hurtful nonetheless—and God knows, he’s done more than enough damage already.
Steve sighs. Eddie can’t work out how to read him.
Maybe if he just keeps staring at the clock on the wall, Steve will give up and leave, and Eddie can keep it together until he knows that he’s alone.
“When are you going to stop?” Steve says and, damn it, Eddie’s resolve breaks in an instant; his head turns, but now Steve’s the one who’s not looking, his gaze fixed on the ceiling like he’s trying to memorise it.
(Fourteen hairline cracks on the tiles. Eddie’s counted.)
“Stop what, Steve?” Eddie says shortly. Maybe this will work instead: if he manages to hold that awful, flat tone for long enough—
“When are you going to stop punishing yourself?” Steve says. His eyes flicker across the ceiling tiles.
Eddie swallows. Forces out, hoarse, “That’s not—”
“Not what?” Steve interrupts. “Not what you’re doing?” He shakes his head a little, and his voice lowers. “You’re acting like they’re right.”
Eddie grits his teeth; he asks even though he already knows. “Like who—”
“You do know you didn’t kill anyone, right?” Steve says bluntly.
For a horrible moment, Eddie can’t breathe. “I—yes,” he says; it’s wrenched out of him like an involuntary reflex, the thought playing in his head over and over at the boathouse, then at Skull Rock—I didn’t do it, I didn’t, please, please—until it sounded less and less like the truth, and more like desperation.
“Then what?” Steve says. His head tilts down—he looks right at Eddie, eyes blazing like a challenge. “What is it? What is so fucking terrible, Eddie, that you’d—”
“What d’you want me to say, man?” Eddie says, exhausted. “I—I hurt—”
His voice cracks; he can’t get through it, can only think about what he wasn’t meant to have seen: a nurse opening his door too wide, and in that split second, catching a glimpse of Dustin frozen in the hallway, Steve crouched down in front of him, speaking too softly to hear; how Dustin’s shoulders shook; you did this, you—
“You don’t think I wish I could take it back?” Steve says.
The words pull Eddie right out of his head. Cautiously, he asks, “What?”
“Because I would,” Steve continues, like Eddie hasn’t said anything. “I’d take it back in a second.” There’s a harsh scraping sound: the chair legs dragging against the floor as Steve stands, like he suddenly can’t bear being still. “I think about it every day. If I hadn’t—” He stops abruptly, like the words have got stuck somewhere painful. His jaw works once, twice. “If I hadn’t left you to—”
“Don’t,” Eddie gets out, pleading. His hand twitches on the bedsheets uselessly; he’s too far away to…
In so many ways, he wishes he was stronger.
“Steve, you—you can’t do that to your—”
“Right,” Steve cuts across with a humourless laugh, “yeah, exactly,” and Eddie gets the feeling that he’s walked right into a trap without realising. “So you don’t get to, either.”
”Steve—”
“No! No, I’m not gonna just watch you fucking hate yourself for—for what? For being scared? For doing the best you could to—” Steve shakes his head again. “Dustin, he—he knows you were… I would’ve done the same thing.”
Eddie can hardly argue the point. He can hear from the strain in Steve’s voice just how much he means it.
And then Steve scoffs slightly, glancing up at the ceiling again—a fragile smile, like it’s only there to keep himself from crying.
“There’s—there’s so much—God.” He drags a hand down his face. “So much blame, Eddie. All the time.” He gets that awful, distant look to his eyes, the one that reminds Eddie that he was thrown into a story in its last horrific chapter; there are things he doesn’t know, but when Steve looks at him, he can feel an echo of the pain in his chest. “And I’m so sick of it.”
“I’m—”
But Steve interrupts before Eddie can voice it: a weak laugh then, “Jesus Christ, haven’t you been listening? Don’t apologise. It’s enough that—that you’re alive.” Steve swallows, steps back. Jerks his head to the door, “Dustin—he’ll be okay, I swear, just give it time. Before you—it kinda, uh. It was awful?” His voice goes up, but not in question, not really: more like he’s the one trying to joke around it, now—because anything else is too much.
It’s another story Eddie isn’t privy to. But he can read it in the way Steve’s eyes trace the ceiling. In soft words exchanged just before a hospital room.
The guilt doesn’t fade, not yet. But its grip eases around his heart. Makes room for…
“Hey,” Steve says shakily, like he’s crying, too. “Eddie, it’s okay. It’s okay.”
Hands are on Eddie’s face, and maybe it should be overwhelming—but all Eddie can feel is something like forgiveness.
“It’s enough,” Steve whispers. “Eddie, I promise you. Please. Please let it be enough.”
Eddie can’t speak. But he gathers Steve’s shirt in his fist; and you, he means, and you.
And maybe Steve hears it, because he sighs like he’s finally let go of something—like he, too, has been cleansed.
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solarmorrigan · 1 year ago
Text
Hands Where I Can See Them, part 11
Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Ao3
[Warnings for: open discussion of sex, brief sexual situation. Nothing explicit happens, but there is an optional explicit continuation to the chapter linked at the bottom if you're into it]
-
Eddie grabs the plastic-wrapped bouquet of flowers from his passenger seat before hopping out of the van and slamming the door behind him, heedless of the pocket of suburban silence that is Loch Nora. While Steve had insisted he be allowed to plan their next date (“It’s not because the last one got fucked up,” Steve had promised. “It’s because I like planning dates, too, and it’s my turn.”), he hadn’t said anything about not bringing him gifts.
Eddie heads up to the front door and rings the bell, even though it’s probably unlocked, and he could probably just walk right in – Steve might be expecting him to, even. They’ve started hanging out again, just spending time being together, like they had before, and Eddie’s pretty sure that means his “don’t bother knocking” privileges have been restored, but all the same, something about waiting at the door just feels right.
When he can hear Steve’s approach on the other side, Eddie holds the flowers up, obscuring his face just as the door swings open. There’s a moment of silence before Steve asks, “What are these?”
Eddie snorts, dropping the bouquet a bit and sidling around Steve and into the foyer. “These, my dear Steve, are called ‘flowers.’ They grow out of the ground. Sometimes out of pots. Although, full disclosure, I procured these from the grocery store.” He holds the flowers up again, presenting them to Steve.
“And… they’re for me,” Steve doesn’t quite ask, a slow-dawning smile crossing his face.
Eddie grins right back. “Everyone deserves to get flowers once in a while.”
Not even bothering to tamp down his evident delight, Steve accepts the bouquet, gesturing for Eddie to follow him back through to the kitchen.
“You know,” Steve says as he pulls a vase from a high cabinet, “if you were really being romantic, you’d have brought roses.”
“What?” Eddie asks, affronted as he glances at the flowers where they lay on the counter. “How are these not romantic? They’re pink!”
“They’re daisies. Those’re friendship flowers.” Steve smirks, filling the vase from the tap before bringing it back over to the counter. “You give them to your friends or, like, your mom. Roses are romantic.”
Eddie scoffs. “Roses are twice as expensive as every other flower because the greeting card industry told people that’s what they need to get to prove their love, and now they have every poor schmuck who can’t think for himself buying roses to conform to some predetermined, soulless notion of romance.”
Steve is undeterred. He pulls the daisies from their plastic and drops them into the vase before turning around to face Eddie, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. “Am I not worth a little conformity once in a while?” he asks, brows raised.
The noise Eddie lets out isn’t one he would precisely call a whine, but he’s not sure he can call it anything else. He leans into Steve’s space, trapping his arms between their chests, and pecks a kiss to his cheek. “Once a year. I’ll be a conformist once a year and buy you roses on Valentine’s Day,” Eddie promises. “How’s that?”
“Deal,” Steve agrees, unfolding his arms so that he can wrap them around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer until Steve is caged against the counter, his mouth pressed soundly to Eddie’s.
They stand there for a long minute, exchanging slow kisses with no other objective than to feel each other, to revel in the closeness, and even when the kisses end, they don’t quite pull apart, foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as they catch their breath.
“Hi,” Steve says, going almost cross-eyed for a moment in an attempt to meet Eddie’s gaze.
“Hi,” Eddie says back, smiling again.
He’s been doing that a lot lately.
“So where are we going tonight?” Eddie asks, pulling a little further back to give Steve more room to move.
“The couch,” Steve says, ducking out from around Eddie’s arms and scooping up the vase in two careful hands.
Eddie’s brows scrunch down in confusion. “What?”
“Yeah, c’mon.” Steve tilts his head to indicate that Eddie should follow him.
And follow him Eddie does – as if he’d do anything else.
Apparently, Eddie hadn’t heard him wrong; they go into the living room, where the smell of pizza is strong now that Eddie’s paying attention. Steve situates the vase on one end of the coffee table (and Eddie allows himself to feel smug about it, because whatever bullshit Steve gave him about roses, he definitely likes the daisies); the other end of the coffee table is covered with napkins and sodas and pizza and a few VHS cases.
“So… what’s all this, exactly?” Eddie asks, glancing from the setup to Steve.
“It’s date night,” Steve replies, sitting down on the couch and holding his arms out in a little ‘ta-da’ motion.
“Okay.” Eddie nods slowly, feeling a bit lost. “Not that I’m complaining—because I’m not, this looks great!—it’s just that this… looks like what we do together normally. Like movie night, or something.”
“Yeah, because I like what we do together normally.” Steve shrugs. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I really like the creative dates and the candles and flowers, but I also like just getting to be a slob on the couch with you sometimes, you know? I was never unhappy just hanging out with you, Eddie. It’s one of the things I liked– I like about being with you. I can just… exist around you.”
“Oh,” Eddie says, because he’s not sure he can say anything else.
He’s not sure how to tell Steve that he’s probably ruined Eddie for anyone else. That no one else could possibly live up to the standards Steve is setting. That he keeps surprising Eddie in ways that challenge him, that make him think, that make him grow. That Eddie can barely even comprehend the enormous amount of good fucking luck that had managed to land Steve in his life even after he’d fucked his first chance up. He doesn’t even know where he would start.
“Is… is this okay?” Steve asks, his expression dimming a little at Eddie’s lack of reaction. “Should I have–”
Whatever question he’d been about to ask is lost to Eddie’s lips, pressed firmly, reverently to Steve’s.
“I love it,” Eddie promises when he pulls away, giving him one more quick kiss. “I love you.”
Steve’s smile probably couldn’t get any bigger, and god, if it’s this easy to make Steve happy, Eddie still can’t understand why he hadn’t been doing it all along.
“I love you, too,” Steve says, and– actually, yeah. Eddie can understand exactly what makes Steve happy, hearing that.
Steve does eventually slide out of Eddie’s grasp to put one of the movies in (he’s been smuggling new releases out of the video store, insisting that no one will notice if they disappear for a night or two in between holds – apparently he and Robin have this down to a science), but Eddie reels him right back in as soon as he sits down, pulling him back into chest as Eddie leans back against the corner of the couch, arms around his waist.
“Can’t eat pizza lying back like this, Eddie,” Steve says.
“Sounds like a challenge to me,” Eddie declares.
They do make an effort, but Steve insists they sit up and eat like normal human beings when Eddie nearly spills soda on his head, and Eddie has to concede the point. It’s fine, though; he gets what he wants once they’ve finished, sliding the box and empty cans out of the way (mindful, still, of the flowers) and reclining back against the cushions together.
By the second movie, Eddie is laid out across the length of the couch with Steve on top of him, his head pillowed heavy and comforting on Eddie’s chest while Eddie runs an absent hand through his hair.
His attention is half on the screen and half on Steve, his fingers wandering down out of his hair and mapping out territory they had missed feeling for weeks. He brushes around the shell of Steve’s ear, distantly registering the shiver it causes, sweeps across the apple of his cheek, and runs one gentle fingertip down the slope of his nose, like he’s trying to commit it all to memory.
Eddie is running his thumb over the soft swell of Steve’s bottom lip when Steve, who has until now seemed content to let Eddie do as he will, presses a kiss to the pad of Eddie’s thumb. Eddie presses back, a mimicry of a kiss, and Steve opens his mouth and takes Eddie’s thumb inside.
Eddie freezes, but Steve does not experience the same problem. He closes his lips around Eddie’s thumb, sucking just for a moment before running his tongue up the length of it, swirling it around the tip, and then releasing Eddie.
For a long moment, Eddie stares, unseeing, at the TV. He has one hundred percent lost track of what’s happening onscreen.
“…Steve?” he finally ventures.
“Mm?” Steve lifts his head, looking up at Eddie, and Eddie is forced to pull his eyes away from the screen to look back down.
Steve’s bottom lip is still shining a little wet where Eddie’s thumb had slid out, and his eyes are blown dark and wide in the low light of the living room (or maybe for other reasons), and Eddie feels he has no other recourse but to kiss him.
Steve seems to agree, meeting him halfway when Eddie leans down towards him.
These kisses are nothing like the ones they’d exchanged against the counter earlier; these quickly grow heated and hurried and slick, mouths sliding fervently against one another. Steve is wriggling a little against Eddie’s front, trying to gain enough of a foothold to push himself up so their mouths are level, and the feeling of his tongue still sliding wet against Eddie’s, his hands around Eddie’s biceps, his belly pressing into Eddie’s pelvis, has Eddie ready to pull back and tell Steve that if he wants to finish the movie, he absolutely needs to stop pretty much all of that – but then Steve manages to push himself up further, straddling Eddie’s hips and making it clear that he’s in exactly the same condition.
And he seems to have no inclination to stop.
Eddie’s hands go immediately to Steve’s waist, quickly sliding down to his hips and gripping, encouraging him to rock against him before–
“Mm – wait,” Eddie manages, lips brushing Steve’s in a half-breath between kisses. “Stop.”
Steve pulls back, brows drawn in worry. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing– nothing’s wrong, exactly, I just – like,” Eddie nods between them, his hands tightening almost unconsciously around Steve’s hips, “is this okay?”
“What part of me climbing on top of you made you think it’s not okay?” Steve asks. “Because clearly I’m doing something wrong.”
“No, I just mean–” Eddie forces himself to gentle his grip, sliding his hands back up around Steve’s waist instead, stroking slow circles with his thumbs. “We don’t have to do this. If you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”
Steve, for some reason, has the audacity to look offended. “I am actually capable of making my own decisions,” he says, tone going a bit sharp. “I’m not just doing this because I think you want to.”
“That’s– I know that, I do, I just want to make sure you know this isn’t all I want, okay?” Eddie rushes out, before the situation can spin entirely out of his control (if he’d ever had it to begin with; he’s actually not quite sure right now).
Above him, Steve softens a bit. “I know.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie’s mouth. “I’m glad it’s not just sex between us. I seriously am. But,” he bites his lip, staring down at Eddie with a little smile that catches somewhere between earnest and mischievous, “I also really like have sex with you. And I miss it.”
“Oh, thank god,” Eddie groans, letting his head fall back against the arm of the couch. “Because I would respect your decision if you didn’t want to fuck after all, but I would have to go hide in the bathroom and cry for a minute. And possibly jerk off.”
Steve laughs. “Well, we wouldn’t want that,” he says. “But I figure this is as good a time as any, right? I mean, this is the third date.”
“You know? I have honest to god lost track. I have no idea what’s going on anymore,” Eddie admits, and Steve shrugs.
“Fuck it, forget counting, then,” he says, smirking down at Eddie. “You wanna go upstairs?”
“Fuck yes.” Eddie nods, scrambling to get up off the couch the moment Steve is no longer pinning him down.
He follows Steve back through to the foyer, and they aren’t quite running, but whatever they’re doing is a little too excited to simply be called walking. Steve makes it to the base of the stairs first, and Eddie is right behind him, about to go up, when something occurs to him.
“Wait!” He grabs Steve by the wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “Wait, wait, hold on.”
“What?” Steve wheels around, wide-eyed as he searches for the source of Eddie’s urgency.
“I just remembered something important,” Eddie says, and then he drops to one knee.
Steve blinks at him. “What are you doing.”
“Steve Harrington,” Eddie begins, grandiose and a little ridiculous as he clutches one of Steve’s hands in both of his own, “will you do me the honor of actually dating me?”
For a long moment, Steve just continues to stare down at Eddie – but Eddie isn’t worried. He can see the warmth in Steve’s eyes, and the way he’s pursing his lips like he does when he’s trying hard not to laugh. Eddie’s pretty confident in the answer.
Finally, Steve nods, losing the battle against his grin the moment he’s no longer biting down on it. “Yeah, alright.”
“Yes!” Eddie pops up off the floor, reaching out to cup Steve’s face in his hands and leaning in for one hard, excited kiss. “I officially have the hottest boyfriend in town,” he declares when they part.
“Oh, yeah?” Steve asks, mouth curling into a smirk. “And what are you going to do with him?”
Eddie mirrors the look, taking Steve by the hand once more and tugging him along. “Come upstairs with me, and I’ll show you.”
And that seems to be the right answer, because Steve seems perfectly willing to let himself be led and find out.
Smutty Continuation; explicit, click through at your own discretion (This is entirely optional, you will not miss any plot if you choose not to read!)
Part 12
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fantasticallyfruity4 · 2 years ago
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Oh my god thinking abt a little Eddie who has no control of his life.
He’s thrown between his parents and child services and his uncle and foster homes every other week like a pinball.
It’s too much for a little boy to handle. He has no say in his own life. It’s a horrible feeling.
So as a teenager he’s desperate for control right?
He’s a Dungeon master, and he’s a DIY metal head, and he’s got the tattoos and the counter culture hair. And he’s a BDSM top. All of these things just scream “I’m in control now I have control over my life now”
And that’s great for him.
But he’s still that same kid, and he’s still suffocated by the pressure. Even if he chose it himself. He’d never say it though.
But then there’s Steve.
And Steve is the first and only person who makes him feel like he can let go of it a little.
He lets Steve drive and falls asleep in the passenger seat.
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unspecifiedfigure · 1 year ago
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i don’t see what anyone could see in anyone else
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 years ago
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Eddie was acting weird.
Well, he was always a little weird. But this was weirder than usual.
For one thing, he kept sneaking into the bedroom as soon as he got home from work, not even acknowledging that Steve was cooking dinner in the kitchen. He always came up behind him and kissed his shoulder before going to shower. Always. But not for the last couple of weeks.
Then, Steve noticed he would be on the phone with Hopper of all people. It’s not that they didn’t get along, they’d moved well past that, but they didn’t exactly seek each other out for conversations. He waited until Steve was in the shower or already in bed, which rubbed Steve a bit wrong. Eddie never hid shit from him.
But the turning point, the moment that Steve decided he needed to say something, was when Eddie went to dinner with Robin. Alone.
Eddie and Robin were friends. Some would even say close friends. It’s hard not to be when you face what they have together. But they always hung out with Steve.
So when Steve found out they’d been out without him, he confronted Eddie.
“What the hell are you up to?”
Steve was maybe coming off as a bit of an asshole. His hands on his hips like he was ready to discipline a child, his face serious, voice stern. But he had to know what was going on.
Eddie raised an eyebrow, not used to being at this end of Steve’s mom pose. He usually stood behind him with a smirk, arms crossed in front of his chest to emphasize his disappointment and amusement at whatever child had earned it.
“What do you mean?”
Steve rolled his eyes.
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
“Dinner with Robin? Without me?”
“Am I not allowed to be her friend without you?”
Eddie’s voice had turned guarded in a way that it hadn’t been with Steve in years.
Steve paused. Something was wrong. Eddie wouldn’t be acting like this if it wasn’t something big.
But what could he possibly be talking with Robin and Hopper about secretly? Was he in trouble? Were they trying to charge him with something from years ago? Why would he go to Robin about that and not Steve? Why would he have to sneak into the bedroom every evening?
The math wasn’t adding up, but Steve nearly failed math two years in a row so maybe he shouldn’t try to make the calculations.
“Are you in trouble? I can help. We can go somewhere. Hopper doesn’t have to know. Is he helping you? He should, he knows you’re innocent. They can’t even charge you for anything anymore right? There’s like, a statue of limits or something?”
Eddie was staring blankly at him.
It must be worse.
Maybe he was going into Witness Protection and Steve couldn’t come so he was trying to plan how to tell Steve. Oh God, Steve couldn’t let him go with no idea where he would end up or what his name would even be.
“Eds, please. You can’t go. They may not give you a choice, but you could maybe write to me so I can follow you? I’ll change my name too.” Steve felt tears in his eyes, and he hated it. He hated that his reaction to this was panic and crying as if he was the one in trouble and on the run. “Do they know we’re a package deal? And Robin. Robin will have to come. Is that what you talked about at dinner?”
Eddie was still just staring at him.
“Eddie please. Talk to me.”
Eddie shook himself out of his stupor, looking down at the floor and mumbling something Steve couldn’t quite hear.
“What? I can’t hear you.”
“I’m taking you to Disney World.”
That was not a sentence Steve ever thought he would hear. Especially not from Eddie fucking Munson.
His first reaction was to laugh, but when he saw the way Eddie’s face fell, he stopped.
“Um. Okay. You’re serious,” Steve let his thoughts wander as he watched Eddie’s whole body tense the way it did when he was working himself up.
Steve thought about how they had watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade last year and saw a float from a new Disney film, he couldn’t remember which one now, but he remembered turning to Eddie and saying, “you know my parents never took me to Disney World? All that money and they spent it all on their exotic vacations and cruises and left me at home.” Eddie had looked at him like he broke his heart before he said “Wayne could never afford it so I never really bothered to ask.”
And it wasn’t that a lot of their friends had been. Growing up, more kids spent time at beach resorts or the lake for summer vacations. Disney was still so new to people, it seemed like a pipe dream for anyone who didn’t have at least a middle class income.
But Steve saw the commercials. He watched the movies. He secretly loved the idea of a whole park dedicated to the childhood happiness and magic he felt when he watched them.
But he never asked his parents, and by the time he thought he could try to go, he was “too old.”
He’d given up on the thought.
Eddie was playing with his rings nervously, still avoiding eye contact with Steve.
“You’re taking me to Disney World?” Steve felt his voice break as the realization washed over him.
Eddie was somehow finding the money to take him to a place he’d secretly wanted to go since he was a kid, even though it was a place he probably didn’t want to go, and he’d wanted to take him so badly he somehow involved Robin and Hopper in the planning process.
God, he loved him so much.
Steve stepped closer to Eddie, hesitantly reaching out to pull his hands apart and lace their fingers together.
Eddie finally looked up at him and Steve couldn’t help leaning in to kiss him softly.
“You’re taking me to Disney World.”
Eddie nodded, a smile slowly spreading across his face.
“How? When? Why does Robin know? Why does Hopper know?”
Eddie chuckled before he placed a kiss on Steve’s forehead.
“Robin knows because she’s been arranging everything. I couldn’t really do it here and work’s been busy so I couldn’t do it there. She offered to help. We’ve been planning it since last Christmas.”
Steve felt himself fall even more in love. Somehow, the love of his life and his platonic soulmate have been planning this incredible trip for him for six months and had only recently given anything away.
“Hopper knows because I did have to make sure I could leave the state. I know my name was cleared, but I just wanted to be certain. Then, he got involved with the planning because he wants to take El and Will this year.”
Steve was gonna start crying, probably any second. He could feel the lump in his throat getting thicker.
“I’ve been saving up anything extra for months. The kids all put in some money to buy your ticket. Mrs. Wheeler let me use Mr. Wheeler’s airline miles to book the flight so it was only about half the cost. Mrs. Henderson gave me her work bonus to put towards the hotel at Dustin’s insistence. Apparently she usually uses it to send him to camp, but he didn’t want to go this year. So. Yeah. Surprise?”
Steve was crying.
Everyone had played a part in this happening, and Eddie was the man behind it all.
Steve threw his arms around Eddie’s neck and jumped to wrap his legs around his waist. He did this all the time, so Eddie only stumbled a little before settling with his hands under Steve’s thighs to hold him up.
“I love you so fucking much,” Steve said against Eddie’s shoulder, tears staining his shirt. “Thank you.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
Eddie placed a kiss on Steve's temple, letting his lips linger for a minute before pulling away.
“So we leave this weekend.”
Steve dropped his legs, immediately panicking about the trip.
“What? What about work? I have so much to do. How long will we be gone? I’m supposed to bring Dustin and Will to a show Sunday. Oh no. I don’t even have a bathing suit. There’s a pool at the hotel right?”
Eddie kissed him, effectively shutting him up, though not quite quelling his panic.
“I’ve already arranged all that. Mike got his license and got permission to drive them. Robin got you off the schedule. There’s a bathing suit in the bag I’ve been packing slowly for weeks.”
“Oh my God, that’s what you’ve been doing. I’ve been standing here waiting for my hello kiss while you secretly pack things for a surprise trip to Disney World. I’m so stupid.”
“Hey. None of that.”
Steve nodded once distractedly. Yeah, yeah, no talking negatively about his own intelligence or whatever they all made him agree to.
“When were you gonna tell me? When we were on the plane?”
“As if you would have arrived at an airport without asking me ten million questions,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “I was gonna tell you tomorrow night at dinner. Will even made this card that had clues inside.”
“Shit, I ruined it.”
“Sweetheart, no. It’s okay. I won’t tell Will. You can still keep the card. It’s a really cool design. He made Disney World look like a D&D game, said you’d probably not get all of it, but thought it was cool. It is, and I think I want him to design a tattoo for me when we get back, but I may have to call the shop in Indy I go to and –”
It was Steve’s turn to cut off his rambling with a kiss.
“I can’t wait to go with you. I can’t believe you would want to.”
“I’d go anywhere with you, you know that.”
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
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mugloversonly · 6 months ago
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I Don’t Need to be Fixed
This is for week two of @steddiesmuttyseptember Prompts: soft and slow | bruise | Rating: E | CW: rape/non con (not between main pair), use of the T slur, misgendering, misgendering of self, mentions of corrective sex. | All tags on AO3 there is a scene of the non con that can be skipped. It will be marked by !!!!! You can pick the story back up at the second !!!!!
AO3 link
Eddie’s been acting strange for the past few weeks. One Sunday when he came home from work, he seemed off. He usually slammed the door open when he came in to alert Steve to his presence, but recently he creaked it open slowly, sliding in, and into the bathroom. He took a shower like normal, but instead of coming out naked to flash Steve (something he’s done since his top surgery), he wrapped the towel around himself tightly under his arms and practically sprinted to the bedroom. When he came out, he was wearing a big hoodie with the hood pulled up and a pair of Steve’s baggy sweatpants.
Today it’s been nearly six weeks and he’s still acting strange, repeating that same behavior after every shift. Even on his days off, he was still wrapped up, and when Steve made a move he flinched back hard. When he asked, Eddie always said he was fine just tired. He was trying not to spiral, but it was like his boyfriend was hiding from him, what could it mean? Was it the upside down? Was he cheating? Steve shook his head, he knew Eddie would say if it was the upside down and he wouldn’t cheat.
“Babe? You doing okay?” Steve asked as Eddie got ready to leave for work.
He nodded once before he left throwing a quick, “bye, love you” over his shoulder. That couldn’t be good.
About an hour later, the phone rang but before Steve could answer it it went to voicemail. “This message is for Eddie Munson. This is the free health clinic, we have his test results in.” The message went on, but Steve didn’t hear anything else.
~~~
Eddie sighed as the current patron he was serving finally moved from the bar. He could feel his energy draining. He loved this job, he did, but he’d be lying if he said it was perfect. Things were wonderful until a few weeks ago.
As he was ruminating on it, the problem customer in his thoughts walked up. “Hey there, beautiful.” Eddie stepped back and without saying a word went over to the other bartender of the night.
“Jeff, can you take this one?” Eddie said pleadingly. He never asked Jeff to take his customers unless something was really wrong.
“I’ll be right with you sir.” Jeff called to the man whose eyes were trained on Eddie.
“Did I make you feel better girlie?” the man asked. Eddie swallowed his fear, turning away with disgust. Jeff’s eyes were huge as he looked at Eddie.
“I’m going to get the bouncer.” He quickly ducked out from behind the bar and practically sprinted to the bouncer.
“Hey Bear? That guy I told you about, he’s talking to Jeff.” Bear didn’t need him to say anything else, he simply walked behind the man and started dragging him out.
“Hey! I’m a paying customer!” The man screamed.
“Not anymore. Now you’re banned.” Bear said calmly.
“Because of that fucking Tranny?!” Bear stopped suddenly. He grabbed the man by the shoulders and threw him to the ground.
“Apologize. Now, or you walk out of here with a broken nose.” The man sneered and spit towards Eddie. “Okay.” Bear said before flipping the man onto his stomach. He slammed his face into the bar floor twice. He went to do it a third time when Eddie spoke up.
“That’s enough Bear. I just want him gone.” The bouncer stood the man up and frog marched him out all the while telling him he’d put up his picture to get him banned permanently.
Eddie took a deep breath and turned back to the bar. Chrissy the manager stopped him, “that was intense. Do you want to go home?” Eddie glanced around at the patrons and everyone was staring. He nodded, as he walked into the back to get his things. Chrissy promised he’d still get paid for the night and the police would be contacted. She took over the bar so Jeff could drive Eddie home since he walked and they didn’t know if the guy was hanging around.
Back at home, he sat in Jeff’s car outside the small house he and Steve shared. He stepped out and waved at Jeff once he got inside. He really needed to talk to Steve about what happened, but he was scared this would be it. His fears were nearly confirmed when he entered the house quietly to find Steve sitting on the couch with a bag packed. “Stevie?” He whispered.
“You got a message Eds.” He replied monotone. Eddie walked to the tape machine, hitting play with confusion.
“This message is for Eddie Munson. This is the free health clinic, we have his test results in. They have all came back negative, have a nice day.” The tape beeped. Eddie sunk to his knees, tears of relief streaming down his face. He moved until he was sitting with his knees against his chest and his arms were wrapped around them.
“Thank god.” He whispered over and over as he rocked back and forth. Steve’s voice cut through his small breakdown.
“When were you going to tell me?” His whispered. Eddie wiped his eyes, Steve’s tone confused him.
“Do you listen to my message?” Eddie asked angrily.
“Not on purpose. When were you going to tell me?” Steve repeated.
“When I got the results back.” He replied quietly. Steve stood and stalked over to him.
“Get up,” he snarled. Eddie just looked at him so Steve reached down and yanked him to his feet by his arm. “I said get up!”
“Ouch! You’re hurting me.” Eddie said yanking his arm out of the hold.
“Were you going to tell me if they were positive so I could get checked too?” Steve asked. Eddie shook his head.
“You wouldn’t have needed to, I’ve been keeping my distance, just in case.” Eddie said quietly. He isn’t sure how Steve figured it out, but he was even more unsure of his anger.
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me and shying away when I try to touch you?” Eddie nodded, the fear was clear in his eyes but Steve didn’t care right now. “I’m going to Robin’s” Steve huffed as he pushed Eddie away. Eddie felt himself crumble.
“You won’t even listen?” He cried. Steve stomped to the couch.
“I don’t want all the gory details no.” He said, his full mean girl coming out.
“Am I disgusting to you now?” He whispered, hugging himself.
“Kinda” Steve grabbed his bag and went to the front door. Eddie couldn’t take this. Why did Steve get to be angry about this when all Eddie felt was pain? Why was he angry at Eddie? Maybe it really was Eddie’s fault? He collapsed to the floor.
“Just a dumb Tranny, who got what he deserved right?” He sobbed out. Steve opened the door, but paused at that. “Something to fix him. But now, he’s damaged goods. Even the man who promised to love him no matter what hates him. But don’t worry, she’s fixed now.” Steve turned around to see Eddie staring at him, his eyes were blank, empty, and cold, even as the tears continued. “Back to her old self.”
“Eddie, what happened?” Steve asked softly, his blood frozen in his veins. “Why are you talking about yourself like that?”
“Don’t worry, Steve. I wouldn’t want to make you listen to the gory details. Have fun at Robin’s. I’ll be gone by morning” Eddie stood and sprinted to the bathroom, locking himself inside. Once there he climbed into the tub and turned on the freezing water, fully dressed. Once he was chilled all the way, he turned the water to scalding. He’d been doing this after work for the past few weeks to try to shock his system back to normal, it hasn’t really been working, but he didn’t know what else to do. The hot water burned his freezing skin but it gives him something to focus on, it’s then that there is a knock on the bathroom door.
“Eddie?” Steve called. Eddie rolled his eyes. After all the shit he just said, he has the gall to sound so concerned?
“Fuck off!” He shouted but Steve just knocked again.
“Please, baby. Let me in?” Eddie huffed, he could tell he wasn’t going to go away. He climbed out of the shower, not worrying about all the water he was getting all over the floor, and unlocked the door. He waited until he was safely back in the spray before giving the okay. The door opened slowly, cautiously, like Steve wasn’t sure what he’d see on the other side. Their eyes met and Eddie got the pleasure of watching Steve’s face frozen in shock as he took in the scene. “Can we get you out of the tub and into bed so we can talk?” Steve asked. Eddie hesitated before nodding. Steve grabbed a towel and turned off the water. He attempted to grab Eddie again but he flinched back hard enough to slam into the tile wall behind him. Steve raised his hand in surrender before handing the towel over and holding his hand out in offer.
Eddie looked at his hand as he wrapped the towel about himself, but he didn’t take it. Steve followed him into the room, sat on the bed, and stared expectantly at Eddie, who stood there in his wet clothes. “Can..can you uh turn around?” Eddie asked quietly. Steve’s heart broke but he did as he was asked. “Okay, you’re good.” He said a few minutes later. He’d pulled on his biggest hoodie and sweatpants that would hold him but also cloak his body, practically hiding it from view. He curled up on the bed as far away from Steve as he could, keeping his eyes on his knees to avoid Steve’s heartbroken face. The room was quiet for a long time before either of them spoke.
“I’m sorry I grabbed you like that earlier Eddie. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Steve broke the silence. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Yes you did. You just thought you were hurting a cheater.” He mumbled the last part. The word cheater hung heavy. “You didn’t even let me explain. You just...decided that I wasn’t worth it.” Steve stared at Eddie. “You wanna know what happened Steve? You wanna know why the free clinic called?”
~~~
Steve looked at this broken man and felt a pang in his heart. He had huge bags under his eyes and his lips were still a little blue. Steve knew something had been going on, but now he was even more unsure about it. “If you want to share, Eddie.” Eddie scoffed. Steve could understand that, “I promise, I know you didn’t cheat, I won’t leave unless you want me to, tell me if you want, not because you think it’s the only way I’ll stay.” After what he just witnessed he’s willing to go on a little faith. After a brief moment of hesitation, Eddie finally spoke.
“I really was going to tell you once I got the results in.” Eddie promised. “You remember that guy at work a month and a half ago?” Eddie asked. Steve did remember, he was an older guy who made gross comments to the wait staff and hit on Eddie. He nodded. Eddie held out his hand for Steve to take, he did and Eddie continued. “He came back a week or so later.”
!!!!!
Eddie and Chrissy were working close that night. The bar was packed but the rude man from the week before stood out. He kept hitting on Eddie and Chrissy all night and he stayed until Bear kicked him out. When the two bartenders were ready, Bear offered to walk them to their cars. Since Eddie tended to walk to work, he let himself be escorted to the end of the block.
He didn’t live far, only a mile or two, but about half way there he felt like he was being watched. When he glanced over his shoulder he saw a few people milling around and assumed it was from them. He didn’t see the guy moving closer to him until it was too late. When he turned the corner, the guy pushed him into the alley and forced his chest into the bricks.
“Hey what the fuck?” Eddie yelled but the man shoved something into his mouth. Eddie froze for a moment when he recognized the man from the club. They thought he left, but he must have been hiding somewhere.
Eddie tried to struggle but the man was stronger and held his wrists behind his back with one hand. With the other he wrapped around Eddie’s waist and undid the button of his jeans before shoving his hand inside. “So the rumors were true huh?” The man whispered in his ear, it sent a shiver of fear and disgust up Eddie’s spine.
Eddie screamed against the gag, thrashed his body, but the man ignored him. He removed his hand for a moment to yank Eddie’s head back and slam it into the wall making his vision fuzzy. The man yanked down Eddie’s pants and boxers to his knees, shoved his own down, and forced Eddie’s legs apart.
He did his best to fight back, but with the blow to the head and his restricted airflow from the gag, he wasn’t able to do much. The man shoved his dick inside Eddie’s pussy but growled angrily when he found he wasn’t wet. “My dick not good enough for you tranny?” He snarled. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head girlie, I’ll show you what it’s like to be with a real man and you’ll be all fixed.”
He shoved against Eddie again who began silently crying. The tears dripped steadily down his face and off his chin, the man scoffed and licked at them. “Don’t cry, I’m just healing you.” Eddie didn’t know what to do. He tried thrashing again but that only seemed to make the man harder. He did the only thing he could and just shut down. Emptied his mind, hid in the same place he used to when his dad would hurt him.
It was finally over when the man’s hips sped up slamming his own into the brick wall no doubt leaving bruises. He had the decency to pull out before cuming on the alley floor. He pat Eddie once on the shoulder. “You’ll be all better soon girlie.” He said before he pulled his pants back up and walked out of the alley. Eddie stayed frozen against the wall for a minute before spitting out the fabric in his mouth and fixing his clothing. His hands shook, he felt his body draining of any energy but he knew he needed to get home.
!!!!!
When Eddie finished speaking, his face was wet as tears had been steadily streaming down his face. Steve lifted his free hand and reached toward Eddie but paused until he nodded his permission. He gently wiped the tears from his boyfriend’s face but it wasn’t until Eddie did the same that he realized he was crying too.
“Baby,” Steve whispered. “I wish you told me.” Eddie’s eyes closed and he hung his head.
“I know. I’m sorry.” He was quiet, if Steve wasn’t sitting so close he wouldn’t have heard him. “I’m sorry I let it happen.” Steve leaned back to look into Eddie’s eyes.
“It’s not your fault, my love.” Steve whispered.
“Yes it is! I tried to fight but I couldn’t. If I wasn’t… I’m sorry, Steve.” Steve’s heart broke for his boyfriend. He opened his arms in offering, nearly falling off the bed when Eddie launched himself into him, apologies pouring out of him. Steve couldn’t take him feeling like this.
“Hey, it’s not your fault baby boy.” Steve swore. “You didn’t ask for it, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry I didn’t listen the first time.” He held tight to Eddie as his cries shook his body. “You’re not wrong, you don’t need to be fixed.”
Steve continued his reassurances as Eddie’s sobs quieted into soft sniffles. “You want to know the worst part of all of this?” Eddie asked wetly. Without waiting for Steve to respond he continued, “I feel like my body isn’t mine anymore.” Steve wanted to find that guy and punch his face in for hurting Eddie. He finally got to a point where he felt like himself, just for this guy to ruin it?
“What can I do? How can we make it feel like yours again?” Steve asked.
“I have an idea, it might seem a little out there” Eddie hesitated. “Can we...have sex?”
“Are you sure?” Steve asked.
“Yes.” Eddie confirmed. Steve nodded in thought for a moment.
“Okay, but if you start getting uncomfortable we stop, okay?” Eddie nodded.
~~~
“Can I ask? How will this help?” Steve asked as he stood.
Eddie stood too and took off his shirt. “This time it’s my choice. You know?” Steve agreed and went to take off his own shirt but Eddie stopped him. “Can I do it?” When Steve nodded, Eddie pulled him away from the bed and undressed him slowly.
He kissed his lips softly before unbuttoning both of their jeans and shoving them down. When they both stood naked in front of each other, he paused. “Can we use the strap tonight?” Eddie asked shyly. They normally switched but he didn’t feel ready to bottom right now. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready again.
“Of course, whatever you need.” Steve promised. While Eddie made his way to the closet to get his harness on, Steve climbed on the bed, grabbing the lube and a condom. Eddie slid his little bullet inside the harness and tucked the controller into the waist band, right next to the lube plunger.
“Oh, gonna cum in me tonight baby?” Steve asked when he saw which dildo Eddie was wearing. It was average sized, something they used when they weren’t in a full scene. Eddie smiled softly as Steve threw the condom back in the drawer. Eddie climbed onto the bed, leaned over, and kissed Steve chastely. It quickly deepened as he licked into the other man’s mouth, softly stroking Steve’s with his own. “God you’re so handsome.” Steve groaned.
Eddie blushed and slid his hand down Steve’s chest, rubbed and twisted his left nipple until he moaned, then did the same to the right. Without separating their lips, he gripped Steve’s cock softly, stroking it to full hardness. Steve kept his hands on the bed until Eddie took his wrists and put them on his hips.
“Touch me Stevie.” He whispered against his lips. Steve slid his hands up Eddie’s sides then around to his chest.
“Can I jerk you off?” He asked quietly. Eddie nodded and he didn’t waste a second slipping his thumb and forefinger into the harness to grasp his cock. He stroked up and down before pausing with his middle finger hovering over the man’s cunt. “Can I touch you there?” Eddie hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded. He slid his finger through the wetness seeping from him but when he went to insert his finger inside, Eddie locked up.
“Stop!” Eddie yelled. His hands and lips stopped, and Steve pulled his hand back.
“Sorry.” Eddie whispered as his body shook. “I don’t know why I can’t…” he choked up. Steve gently stroked Eddie’s back.
“It’s okay baby, no apologies okay? If you want to stop we can” Eddie whimpered and shook his head. “If you want to keep going we can, I just won’t finger you okay?” Steve promised.
Eddie kissed him softly again. “Thank you. Can I get you ready?” He asked. Steve went to flip himself over but Eddie stopped him. “I need to be able to see you, is that okay?” Steve knew it would hurt a bit more than normal, but the trust Eddie placed in him over road that fear. He grabbed the bottle of lube and pressed it into Eddie’s hand.
Eddie felt almost shy when he poured lube on his hand, rubbing his fingers together to warm it up. They’ve done this hundreds of times by now, but every time felt like the first time. He kissed down Steve’s neck, sucking bruises into the skin as he slid a finger inside. When he didn’t meet any resistance, he moaned softly. He thrust his finger a few times before adding a second, quickly followed by a third.
“Eddie, baby. I’m ready, please.” Steve begged. Eddie smirked, twisted his fingers until Steve screamed.
“I found it, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, already knowing the answer, especially when he hit that spot again and again until Steve clenched around his fingers. Feeling mean, Eddie stopped moving, dangling Steve’s release in front of him like a carrot. He sat back on his heels, reveling in Steve’s betrayed glare. “What’s a matter baby?” He asked innocently.
“I need you Eds. Get in me before I explode!” Steve whined.
“Your wish,” Eddie began as he lined up, “is my command.” He thrust his hips forward sinking to the hilt in one motion. Steve shook as he tried to adjust, but Eddie wouldn’t let him. He thrust deeply and slowly, dragging his strap out inch by agonizing inch, making sure to hit Steve’s prostate on every inward push. He flipped the bullet vibrator on, moaning as it kicked into gear.
“Harder baby.” Steve begged, “please sir, give it to me.” The honorific always sent Eddie hurtling toward the edge. He bit harshly into Steve’s shoulder as he began pounding into him. The vibe pushed against his cock and the base of Steve’s making them both shudder.
“Feel good, doll?” Eddie asked, not waiting for Steve’s answer before his hand was back around his cock. Steve wailed as he was jerked quickly, the difference between Eddie’s hips and hand driving him insane.
“I’m close baby. I’m so fucking close.” Steve panted, wrapping his hand around Eddie’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. He began lifting his hips to meet his boyfriend’s thrust for thrust, incidentally pinning the vibe against his cock. Eddie threw his head back and grabbed the plunger in his waist band.
“Cum for me, sweetheart. Together” Eddie growled into his ear. That’s all it took for Steve. He released hot ropes of cum all over the both of them at the same time Eddie pushed the plunger. The body temp lube filled his ass while Eddie shook as he came. He worked them through it before he collapsed onto his boyfriend.
After when they were all clean, the sheets were changed, and they were cuddling, Eddie kissed one of Steve’s bruises. “Thank you.” He whispered. Steve smiled, grabbed Eddie’s chin, tilted his head up, and kissed him gently.
“No need to thank me. You’re my boyfriend.” Eddie sighed happily. Steve’s gentle words and touches helped him feel like himself.
“And don’t you ever forget it.” Steve smiled cockily and pulled Eddie until he was on top of him.
“Wanna go again?” Eddie eagerly nodded and jumped off the bed to get his strap.
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xxbottlecapx · 2 months ago
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Last chapter of my steddie yoga au is going up tonight!! It's my pinned post!! 💚
In honor of that, here is another pamphlet that I designed based off of the ones Steve makes in the fic.
And here is a link on how to fold it so u can keep it for yourself!
https://www.readbrightly.com/how-to-make-zine/
(Contents have mild spoilers for the fic so be wary if u haven't read it yet)
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(Disclaimer- Whilst Steve has a pdf, I do not, lol)
Special thanks to G for all his help 💚💚💚💚
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