#neat freak steve harrington

[hello-sweetheart]

Steve hosting game night for the kids and always up and out of his seat, getting drinks and snacks and wiping away crumbs because he feels awkward if he doesn’t have something to do.

And Eddie just watching him bounce around until he’s finally had it up to here, so he pushes Steve down to the couch by the shoulders, softly scolding

“You know what? Just, Sit Down and Stay.”

And Steve, bitchy not-so-retired mean boy, rolls his eyes so hard and slouches down with a sarcastic and infuriated “woof.”

And Eddie fucking glitches before skedaddling to the kitchen for the drinks but also to just take a breather cuz??!!

What tf was that??!!

He looks down at his crotch betrayed and bewildered.

‘Jesus fucking Christ’

[stevesgother]

absolutely obsessed with chalkboard hearts! it’s such a sweet series!

would we perhaps be able to see smth smutty? like maybe the night after their wedding or even their first time together?

love u!!

thanks so much for reading! i decided to go with the latter, so here is steve and reader's first time together <3 steve harrington x fem!reader from the chalkboard hearts au, but can definitely be read as a standalone. cw: SMUT, p in v, oral (f receiving), language

"This is really quiet the bachelor pad you got here, Harrington."

You tease him as you take in the surroundings of your boyfriend's kitchen for the first time. It'd took some convincing to let dinner be at his place this week. He'd just finished cooking you a delicious meal-- salmon with white rice and lemon-- and insisting that you not touch a single thing. Just sit there and look pretty.

"Not really a bachelor pad anymore, is it?" He observes as he takes another sip of his pinot noir. You'd never taken Steve Harrington to be the type of man who knew which wines paired well with fish, but here he'd surprised you again. He seemed to be full of them these days.

"I think we'd have to be married for it not to be," you swear he blushes, "but it's a lot cleaner than I thought it'd be!"

"Ouch," he places a hand over his chest in faux offense, "You saying you thought I'd be a slob?"

"I'm saying, you're a single man in his mid-twenties," you laugh at his dramatics.

"My mom was sort of a neat freak, I guess," he admits, a little more subdued this time as he picks at what's left of his salmon with his fork, "The house barely looked lived in most of the time."

His parents seemed like a consistently sore subject, or at least one that wasn't reminisced on with much joy. You attempt to lighten his mood, "Well, my house always looks like the Tasmanian Devil blew through it-- you know you're always welcome there."

A sense of pride blooms in your chest when Steve cracks a grin, "Yeah, Abbey seems to have that effect everywhere she goes. My classroom isn't much better by the end of the day." He chuckles.

"Sorry about that," you wince at your daughter's apparently incessant need to make everywhere she goes an absolute pigsty, but he waves you off.

"You all done, sweetheart?" Steve asks as he stands to rinse his own mostly empty plate. Now, it's your turn to blush at the usage of the pet name-- still something you're not quite used to hearing directed towards you.

"Yeah," you tell him bashfully, "Yeah, I am. Thank you."

The smile you flash him is more than enough thanks, if you ask him. Burning with the power of a thousand sunrises: enough to light a fire behind his ribs.

He really did go all out for this date. The button-down dress shirt is evidence enough as he rolls the sleeves up to his elbows in an effort to keep them dry as he rinses your plates free of food.

The muscles in his forearms flex deliciously beneath the fabric with every movement he makes; you trace a vein from his hand all the way to wear it disappears underneath his sleeve, thinking about all the different ways those hands could--

"It's rude to stare, you know," Steve tells you without look, snapping you out of your daze.

"I-- sorry, I, uhm--" You scramble, feeling suddenly flustered and hot in the face.

"Hey," he says, abandoning the dishes in favor of comforting you, "I'm just teasing. You can stare all you want." Steve's lips are a mere breath away from yours when his sentence finishes; they're simply too tempting not to close the distance.

The kiss is tender at first, loving; but morphs quickly into something more consuming. His mouth tastes fruity and rich-- red wine, and something else that's ineffably Steve when his tongue laves over yours.

It's not long before hands begin to roam; Steve's large palm needing the plump of your backside, skating down your torso and inching dangerously close to the apex of your thighs. His mouth develops an interest in the tenderness of your neck-- that spot just below your earlobe. You can't help the breathy sigh that escapes you when he nips there.

"Have I showed you my bedroom yet?" Steve pants when his lips detach from your neck.

"Smooth," you chuckle.

"I'm serious!" He laughs back; you swear his eyes sparkle. "Cleaned it just for you." You yelp as he hoists you up; quickly taking the hint, you wrap your legs around his waist and let him carry you.

Neither of you were the wiser, but you'd both anticipated this might happen tonight. You, anxiously shaving in the shower and wasting an extra hour of hot water; and Steve, rushing home from work to shove miscellaneous piles of clothes into his closet and slamming the door shut.

And he wasn't lying, he did clean. Not that you have anything to compare it to, but you get a moment to look around when he plops you down onto his mattress; it was cute, albeit poorly decorated.

"Why do you have a bowling pin on your desk?"

He rubs at the nape of his neck, "I've just always had it, I guess,"

"it's cute," you reassure him, "you're cute."

"Cute enough to let me kiss you a little more?"

"Maybe," you say, quieter; the duvet ruffling under your head where you lie down in order to accommodate Steve as he crowds over you.

He wastes no time diving back in. You take the liberty of unbuttoning his shirt for him as he works open your blouse, revealing a cream, satin bra.

"You wear this for me?" Steve breathes as his fingers brush your pebbled nipple beneath the silk.

"So what if I did?"

He groans into your mouth, using his free hand to unhook the only barrier standing between him and what he wants. The second the previously unexplored skin is exposed; his hips begin to rut with a mind of their own. Your leg's part to make space for him.

The hardness of him against your core wasn't something you'd realized you needed so desperately until now; it's enough to have you keening.

Before you can process it, Steve's face is pressed between the valley of your breasts, planting soft kisses there before taking one of your buds into his mouth. He spends a considerable amount of time there before moving further south, nipping and savoring your freshly exposed skin as he goes.

"Can I take these off?" He asks with his hands fiddling at the hem of your pants, looking up at you through his lashes like he knows it's your personal kryptonite.

"Yeah..." your voice trembles and you hope he doesn't notice. It's been over five years since anyone's touched you like this, and no one's ever worshipped you quite like this. Not like Steve.

Steve grabs your hand in the gentlest show of affection, his brows marrying in the middle of his forehead, "Is this what you want?"

"Yes-- yes, sorry, I'm just nervous," you breathe, "it's been...a long time."

"Hey, me too," he reassures, "you're safe with me, right? And I'm safe with you."

"Right," You agree, feeling the tension leave your body bit by bit.

"Good," you pants and underwear begin their slow descent down your thighs, "Just relax, baby, let me take care of you--" That last part is muffled as he buries his nose in the folds of your cunt, licking a wide stripe upward.

He laps at you for what feels like hours, nosing at your clit and opening you up in preparation for him. Steve doesn't let up until you're clenching around his middle and index finger, back arching off his cotton sheets with a desperate cry of his name.

By the time he separates himself from your soaked core, you're so desperate for his mouth again that you reach forward to yank him down onto you. He chuckles into your mouth-- now he tastes of only you.

You palm him where he's noticeably tenting in his slacks, he quickly takes the hint and unbuttons them as he hovers over you.

"Yeah? You want this cock, baby?"

You have to stifle a gasp, "Harrington, you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Steve had been ever the gentleman since the moment you'd met him; almost too timid, sometimes. Hearing him speak such filthy words was jarring to say the least.

"Sorry--" Steve winces, "Was that...was that not? I can--"

You have to pinch his cheeks together to get him to stop spiraling, "Never said I didn't like it," he relaxes a bit, face flushing, "I don't want you to force it, though. Say whatever feels right."

"Yeah, okay," he whispers.

Wordlessly this time, Steve reaches for the top drawer of his nightstand and pulls from it's confines a silver packet. He tears it open with his teeth.

You don't catch yourself before saying, "That was hot."

"Hey, thanks," he breathes an airy chuckle.

It's only as he's rolling the condom on that you truly see how well-endowed he is. The Levi's he's always wearing don't leave a ton to the imagination, but this is a whole different ballgame. You were beginning to sweat, if you were being honest.

Steve hands are trembling slightly as he attempts to line himself up with your entrance, "You're shaking, Steve."

"I know, I'm sorry--"

Your hand on Steve's wrist halts his movements, your other palm gently stroking the stubble starting to grow on his cheeks. You plant a loving kiss on his forehead before urging him off of you and onto his back.

He stares up at you like a moth looking into a flame; his hair all mussed around the frame of his beautiful face.

"Just relax, baby," you echo his words from earlier, "I've got you."

There's almost no resistance when you sink down onto him, despite his size. A breathy whimper escapes you at the stretch and Steve's mouth opens in a silent 'Oh'.

His hands fly to your hips to prevent you from moving just yet, giving both of you time to adjust to the position. Your head finds a comfortable home in the crook of his neck where it junctions with his shoulder, his arms wrapping around the plain of your back to keep you tucked into him.

Steadily, you begin to meet each other's grinding in a rhythmic tempo. It's lazy and it's beautiful: like two souls entwining as one.

As he picks up speed, his thrusts begin to punch little sounds of ecstasy out of both of your open mouths. You urge him to look at you with a hand to his cheek, not wanting to miss his expression as you're both pushed closer to the edge.

"Are you close?" Steve asks through gritted teeth, planting his feet to pound into you harder.

"Yes, Steve-- don't stop--"

He doesn't deny you, not when you sound so sweet and wrecked on top of him. He staves off until he feels your velvety walls begin to squeeze him harder; his hand sliding between the slick of your bodies to circle your clit, giving you that extra push you need before you're finishing around him with a loud whine. Steve's thrusts falter, and you can tell he's close.

"I love you--" Steve grunts as he comes inside you with one last pump of his hips. He stills, only just registering what he's admitted.

You rise onto your elbows to meet his gaze, his eye's wide and pupils blown. Sweat beads at his hairline, just enough for on droplet to slide down his temple. You can practically see him trying to think of something-- anything to say.

"I'm sorry," he starts to backtrack, "You said to say-- you said 'what felt right' so I-"

"Did you mean it?"

"I... of course I meant it,"

"Then stop apologizing. I love you, Steve." Your face floods with warmth, "I think I've loved you for a long time."

"I love you," Steve whispers.

"Right, we've established that," you laugh affectionately.

"Do you want to stay tonight?" He asks in an almost trance-like state.

"If you'll have me," you brush the stray hairs that stick to the dampness of his forehead.

"I'll always have you."

taglist - @soulxiez @sadieshairbrush @the-witty-pen-name@ilovetaquitosmmmm @micheledawn1975 @cherryc1nnam0n @paleidiot @adaydreamaway30 @mrsnarnian @negomi123 @twinkling-moonlillie @royalestrellas @jamdoughnutmagician @cali-888 @kolsmikaelson @1deverland @borhapparker @alexa4040 @chiliwhore @weonlysaidgoodbyewithwordss @paddockspookie42 @foxes-n-frogs @j-mlover383 @i-love-gfv @the-fairy-anon

[sp0o0kylights]

You know what I want to see, I want to see more of Steve, Eddie, and Robin being 1980s small town kids from Indiana, by which I mean;

Robin is The Source of Gay Knowledge purely because her parents host Hippie Christmas and she managed to sneak away to find a neat bookstore in Indiana once. 

Her knowledge is not in depth. It's patchy, woven together through rumors, stories she heard or things she picked up from her parents' old pictures. She's got a handful of zines, one book, and some movies she managed to order for Family Video behind Keith's back.

She acts like she's Queen of the Queers because in Hawkins she pretty much is.

(Max and El ask her what a lavender marriage is once, something they overheard snooping around. 

Robin confidentially answers that it's code for when one woman dresses up as a man, fooling officials into wedding two woman.

She does not live this down two years later when they find out what it actually means.) 

Eddie doesn't spend every weekend in Indianapolis. 

Gas is expensive, his busiest days of his "job" is Friday and Saturday, and he has no fucking clue what the hanky code is. 

He's wearing that bandana because Metallica front singer James Hetfield has one on all their tour posters. 

Eddie does make it down to a gay bar though, by accident. Rick needed some back up for a shady deal. Promised Eddie a boatload of free drugs to sell if he agreed to just stand there and look mean. 

He was warned the bar they were meeting in was 'weird' and to not 'freak out' --which Eddie thought was hilarious given his nickname and general appearance, but whatever.

He doesn't understand when they get there, because it's just a bunch of hot men with hanky's in their back pockets everywhere.

Then he sees two women kissing and it clicks. 

He can't out himself in front of Rick, but one of the bartenders playfully dresses him down for his own hanky, letting him know all about the code and teasing him through his embarrassment. 

He's got an offer to come back and learn what color and which pocket his hanky should actually be in, a prospect Eddie was salivating at until Chrissy Cunningham up and died on his ceiling.

(He still wore the hanky, because the feeling of that bartender tugging it out and stuffing it back in might be the closest thing he's ever had to sex and he absolutely wants a repeat. 

He's young and horny, sue him.) 

Steve Harrington may not be academically smart but he's not dumb. 

He figured out a while back that the basketball team as a unit probably crossed the queer line more than once--or at least it did before Hargrove came in. 

( Brad Handly for example, went around slamming kids into lockers and screaming slurs like a fucking movie villain one Monday because the varsity team got dead drunk at Laura's party on Sunday and hey, look, there weren't that many girls there, okay?

They all had fucking hands and mouths. Everybody but Tommy was single and hot to trot. Nothing gay about it.

Its not even like they were kissing or treating each other like chicks. It was just Brad's first time and they got to tease him later for overthinking it. 

Dude graduated soon enough after and given Steve was on the team as a sophomore, he hadn't thought about the guy and why he might be freaking out so bad in years.) 

Robin's entire panic attack at Starcourt, and a few more after had Steve replaying that whole incident. Reframed it a bit, and, yeah.

In retrospect that had been extremely gay, actually. 

It sat with him a lot easier than he'd thought it would. Partially because of Robin, but mostly because that's just who he was.

Stranger things had happened to Steve and this one didn't want to kill, maim or otherwise eat him, so it got filed under 'interesting facts he should never tell his parents if he wanted to keep his trust fund' and then he went about his day. 

(Or he tried too, anyways.

It caught up to him when Eddie and Robin somehow figured out the other was queer and dragged him along to some bar Eddie had a standing invitation at, with demands for Steve to do what he did best.

Babysit.

Their magical trip was utterly destroyed when Brad Handly happened to be the very same bartender who had given Eddie the invite.

 Considering Brad's immediate bark of laughter followed by a hug and introducing himself as "Steve's gay awakening", Steve ended up having to speedrun through Eddie and Robin both having a crisis for him.

It didn't help that Steve had politely, and laughingly, corrected Brad with a casual; 

"Pretty sure that was Tommy man, but if it helps I think that tongue of yours gave Matt Burdon a crisis."

--which ended up with him answering a lot more gay sex questions with Brad than he cared too. 

At least he, through Brad, was able to help Robin connect to some local lesbians and--after a second crisis from Eddie regarding how Steve managed to have more sex than "the resident town freak and guy who actually knew he was gay, Steve!"-- even helped Eddie out by catching the metalheads tongue with his mouth later that evening.

The last one landed him a boyfriend, trust fund be damned.) 

[drinkingbeerfroma]

Wrote a lil fic inspired by this amazing Subway AU art by @stablefuse, if you wanna check it out :))

Subway Rats and Weird Men

Summary:

Steve's weighing his chances if he’s strong enough to punch the guy and make a run for it, but he thinks he’s too lithe to carry any actual weight into his fist. God knows Steve hasn’t won a single fight in his entire life and thinks this time may not be an exception. Guy’s all bricked up.

—

Steve rides the train late at night, tries to solve a mystery, meets a hot stranger, a creep and a stalker, and gets himself a boyfriend, all while trying not to fall asleep and get bitten by rats.

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationship: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington

Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Working Adults, Modern AU, Steve Harrington is a little neurotic, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, but a neat freak, Billy Hargrove is Obsessed with Steve Harrington, IT'S DELICIOUS, Billy Hargrove is a creep, But a hot creep, Some light stalking implied, Subway rats and romance go hand in hand, non-linear story telling, Subway AU

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

I accidentally deleted this request but i still remember it. so I apologise to who requested it!

Prompt 8: Secret Santa

Prompt 19: "I know it's not much but-" "-it's perfect"

SECRET SANTA

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem! Summary: in which your friend group decides to do a secret Santa. and Eddie doesn't really care, not until he sees who he got. Warnings: One use of Y/n, I'm sorry, ok?!

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

Eddie dug a ringed hand into the beanie that Steve had brought around the group.

He didn't really care for this, whoever he got he was going to chuck a few chocolates and candy their way and call it a day. he didn't have the money nor the energy to actually do this activity right.

i know what you're thinking. if he didn't want to do it then why is he here, in Steve Harrington's Livingroom with all his friends doing this?

well the answer to that question is the echo of your laugh ringing in his ear as he pulled the name out of the beanie.

Steve moved on and waved the hat in front of Dustin, who was too busy trying to see who Eddie had gotten to realise it was his turn

Eddie flipped open the piece of ripped paper and there he saw your neat handwriting, your name written so perfectly.

maybe he would try.

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

Eddie frowned. A week had past and he had no idea what to get you. At this point, it would be easier to slap a bar of chocolate and call it a day.

But he couldn't do that

There had to be some kind of thought behind it

If he just bought a quick snack for you to eat you would probably assume he doesn't care about you. Which is totally not true.

And what if he didn't get the brand you like? What if you were allergic to the flavour he got? What if you just didn't like chocolate

Eddie was becoming a mad man, overthinking everything.

You like music. He doesn't know what bands though

You like art, but are you more of a drawer or painter?

You like animals. But he can't get you a pet

This was so bullshit

Only girls know what to buy girls

So he went to one of the weirdest and coolest girls he knows.

"Robin, you're a girl" Eddie fidgeted as he slowed down to walk with her

The group were out in town for a lunch at the diner and he took his chance when he saw you walking at the front with Steve, ignoring the bubbling of jealousy, he stayed behind to ask Robin a question that was killing him on the inside

"Good observation skills you got there, dimwit" she snorted. Shaking her head disapprovingly

"No- I mean.. what do you buy for a girl?" He asked nervously, scratching the back of his neck

"Are we talking a little kid or do you mean a woman, Eddie?" The blonde girl replied. Of course she knows what he means, she just likes winding him up

Eddie sighed "a woman, Robin"

"And would this be for the secret santa?" Robin questioned knowingly

"Robin, just please" he begged.

Eddie needed help, he needed to know what to get you, to impress you

It was like the gods have given him a chance. And he'd be dammed if he got you a gift you hated

"You got Y/n, didn't you?" The Buckley girl asked

How does she do that? Eddie thought to himself

"No..."

"Aren't you friends with her? You should know what to get her" Robin shrugged

Which then raised the question

He is friends with you, right? He counted you as a friend, but did you count him as one?

Either way. Eddie definitely didn't talk to you as much as he'd like to.

Which makes him think, does he love you when he doesn't know anything about you

Wait.. he loves you?

"Robin, please, I'm freaking out here.. we give presents in 3 days and I have no ideas on what to get her"

"I heard her talking about how she needs a new bra the other day" his friend said casually

Eddie's steps came to a halt as he feels his whole body heat up. Robin laughs to herself seeing Eddie's red face and pink ears, blushing like a mad mad.

He can't get you a bra...isn't that.. harassment? Eddie thought to himself

"No.. I'm not getting her a new bra.. anything that isn't... weird"

"Oh well if you said not weird then I have a whole bunch of things you can get her!" Robin smiles cheerfully

That was a lie.

Robin had started blackheads at the curly headed boy who smiled back enthusiastically, asking what it is

"Eddie, you... poor man... there isn't anything you could give her that isn't weird... because its you"

Ouch.

Plan Robin was a fail.

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

Eddie layed in his bed. Hands together in his chest and he stared up at his ceiling

He was supposed to be leaving in 20 minutes but he couldn't bring himself to get out of bed

Not when the plush toy stared at him from his desk, taunting him.

He can't show up to Steve's house to give you a stupid teddy bear. He'd look like a fucking idiot.

He leaned up, staring at the soft plush animal. He was told it was your favourite animal by Robin, the only semi-useful thing she had told him 3 days ago.

He frowned, it wasn't even fucking wrapped!

He got up. Going to the cupboard, he didn't have wrapping paper.. but he had old newspapers that he used to use for craft laying around. He could use that, right?

.

He glared down at the present. A lump of paper strangled by a whole roll of tape.

He wasn't the best wrapper, ok?

Eddie thumped his head on his desk, banging it until he groaned in pain, holding his temple, shaking his head

This was useless. He's not going. He can't go. He won't do it to himself.

He rubbed his hands down his face. His tired and lazy eyes met with the little figurines he had personally made for dnd.

Of course. How could he be so stupid? He cursed himself for forgetting that he had made a little figure that represented you a few months back.

It wasn't for you, per se, but he wanted to secretly incorporate you in the game. You didn't even play, so it wasn't like you could call him out saying the little elf princess resembled you.

If he gave you this it would be seen as thoughtful and maybe even flattering, that he took the time to make you. Which he did do, but this way if was less creepy.

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

Eddie walked into Steve's living room, gift in hands with a sheepish smile.

Seeing you there, next to Robin, almost made his balls sweat. You looked beautiful.. you weren't gonna like his gift, but before he could turn back, Robin greeted him happily.

Jesus H Christ, Robin Buckley.

Eddie's smile tightened as you looked over, a soft smile planted on your plush lips as you said hello.

He lifted his hand to wave but slapped it back to his side quickly before going over to the tree. This was going to kill him.

He sat beside Dustin and made short conversation with the freshmen when he heard a hushed whisper of his name.

You were looking over at him when he looked back. You quickly turned away, your face flushing red as Eddie frowned

Were you making fun of him? Teasing him? Right, you must have thought you were a freak just like the rest of them.

It was hopeless, loving you. After so long you'd think he would learn to move on. Or maybe actually pack up the courage to talk to you, even in a group setting.

It was beyond you, the way he felt towards you. You assumed he didn't like you cause he never made any attempt to talk to you, and when you'd go up to start a conversation with him, he'd rush away, having something brilliant to say to Dustin. So you just gave up trying to be his friend, if he didn't like you.

But it was too late to take his gift back and run because Steve had announced it was gift time.

One by one, each member of the group went up to the tree and found the gift with their name on it.

Eddie stood up and grabbed the box, wrapped neatly in red and green wrapping paper, stuck together with a bow on the top. His name written messily on a ripped piece of paper that was taped to the top.

Dustin shook his box as Eddie sat back down, While You got up to get your gift.

Eddie nervously watched as you walked up to the tree. Looking down at the two presents left. You frowned at you picked it up, going back to your spot on the couch

You haven't even opened it and you already hated it.

Then one by one they started to open the presents. Guessing who had gifted them the present in their hands, Dustin had Guessed Lucas, Lucas had guessed Robin, Robin had guessed Mike, Mike had guessed Steve, Steve had guessed Mike, Eddie had guessed Nancy, Nancy had guessed you..

And as you opened your gift, tearing open the plush toy, your eyes immediately went to Robin, and you shook your head, smiling softly, noticing the small wrapped present.

You didn't take it out from the box as you opened it, but he could tell your reaction was mixed by the squint in your eye that was quickly replaced by a wide eye grin. Your gaze lifted and landed on Eddie.

You guessed him.

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

Eddie fought to catch you before you left. Making sure he was the last person to say goodbye as you left the Harrington home.

He followed you out, right to your car door before he stopped you.

The plushie raised to your chest as you snugged the soft fur of it. The figurine you kept in the small box he had put it in, held in your hand as he smiled sheepishly at you

"I uh-" he stopped himself, itching the back of his neck

He should run while he can, save himself from the embarrassment before you turn him away.

You don't even like him, right?

"I hope you like the gifts" he settled for., eyes tearing away from yours as he lazily pointed to the plush and the box.

"I do.. their really cute, thank you" you beamed up at him

Cute? You called him cute?! -oh wait

His faint blush drained from his face when he realised he misheard you.

"I know it's not much but-" he looked down at the floor before you cut him off

"-it's perfect"

Eddie looked back up at you, eyebrows raised "Yeah?"

"Yeah" you nodded "you can never have enough toys on your bed. I swear my bed it full of them.. and the figurine, wow.. the detail is amazing, Eddie.. I can't believe you'd do that"

Of course he'd do that. Totally not for his enjoyment for making the game better, but for you to enjoy, maybe on display or in the trash, he doesn't care.

-he does-

"I know you don't play but-" he started before you cut him off again

"I was actually hoping to ask if you'd want to teach me how to play... you guys reference it so much I just wanted to understand it.. if you want to?" You asked

"Of course I want to! I mean hellfire could use someone like you" he stood up straighter

You were interested in him? Well not him but- yeah sure let's go with him, for his sake.

"Someone like me?" You questioned teasingly

"A-an elven princess" he pointed to the little box in your hand.

You hummed and smiled, looking up at him so gently it made him want to faint.

After a moment of silence, Eddie decided that was enough because if he stared at you for one more second trying not to tell (scream) that he loves you, he would break.

"Well.. merry Christmas" he smiled tightly before backing up

"Oh, Eddie, Wait" you stopped him, opening your care door and placing the gifts on your passenger seat before leaning over to the back.

Eddie stood in his place, trying not to stare at your ass as you leaned over. He closed his eyes, licking his lips.

When his eyes fluttered open again, you were right in front of him, holding out a little wrapped box with a cute bow in it.

He looked up at you, confused before you leaned up and kissed him on the cheek

"Merry Christmas, Eds"

You backed away. Your hands together, fiddling with your fingers as if you were nervous. You got in your care and shut the door when he finally realised you had given him a gift.

As as you drove away, he opened it.

Opening the small box, his heart almost skipped a beat.

It wasn't much, but to Eddie it meant everything.

It made him know that you pay attention, that maybe you care about him, maybe in the way he does you.

And it was even sweeter because you didn't have to get him anything, you weren't his Santa.

You got him a ring

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Violent Night, 2022

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Words: 2.7k

Notes: I’m doing great rn😌😌😌 so fine so peachy so wonderful

You’re not surprised when Steve opens the door and he’s looking confused and disheveled like he’d just woken up from a nap. 

“Hey baby, I thought you were coming for the party tomorrow” He mumbles as he steps aside and lets you in. The house is silent as he takes your coat and hangs it up in the hall closet, you slip off your boots and go right into the bunny slipper he holds out for you. He smirks as he takes in your outfit, you’re wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of pajama pants, which as he looks closer he realizes is also his.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” You tell him like it perfectly explains everything and he follows after you as you walk through the house with your overnight bag.

“Okay… yeah?” 

The house is beautifully decorated, of course, his mom did it up before they went to the Bahamas, she’s even got three stockings hanging like they’d be there. 

But they’re not, they never are. 

“You have like an insane amount of things to do tomorrow and I just figured-“You shake the bag and he takes it from you now.

“Maybe I’d sleep over and we could get an early start together!” 

He smiles at you, cupping your face and pulling you closer to kiss your forehead.

“You don’t have to do that sweet girl, you should be with your family on Christmas Eve, opening presents with them tomorrow morning before coming here” 

“I am with my family Steve” You smile as you tilt your head up for kisses “Besides my mom wants me to bring you home, she said she wants her favorite son with her on Christmas. If you don’t wanna come I’m all set to sleepover” 

He kisses you softly, running his hand down your shoulder and interlocking your fingers. 

“Don’t you literally have a brother?” 

“Yup! So, why don’t you get packing? And we can leave in a couple hours after setting some stuff up for tomorrow?” 

Steve can feel the lump in his throat as he chuckles and nuzzles his nose against yours. He knew the moment he’d met you, you were the one. He can only hope you agree and don’t find the Christmas present he’s hiding in his closet. 

It’s a little cheesy the way he feels with his stuff packed in the bag with yours like you’re the ones going on vacation together. He’d thrown some stuff for overnight in it and called it a day and came down to help you start setting up. 

He’s not really sure when it happened but he’s not surprised it has. You’d lost your pants along the way, pouting that they were too long for you. 

“I mean, they’re not too long for me,” He says as he hands you the star for the top of the tree. The party was mainly going to be in the basement so he’d set up another little tree downstairs. It doesn’t look nearly as neat and perfect as his mother’s and somehow that makes it even better. There’s room for everyone to put an ornament on when they come in, Steve holds your waist as you put the one up he’d gotten you last year, it’s a mini Polaroid frame of your first Ferris wheel ride. Eddie had gone to incredibly dangerous lengths to get that photo and you still remember the way Hopper lost his shit on all three of you as you tried not to giggle.

“Can’t wait to go to the fair with you again” He kisses the tip of your ear, and you smile. 

“Mhm, and I can watch you win a bunch of prizes for me” You turn in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and he pecks your lips. 

“You remember, like two? Years ago… when you decided to do the dunk tank?” 

You groan into his chest as he snickers and pulls you into him closer “Oh my god and my top fell off!!” 

“Literally there has never been more donations in the freaking history of the dunk tank” 

You smack your head into his chest and he laughs, his head tilting back. 

“I’m like ninety percent sure half of that came from Ed-“ 

You squeak as the power goes out and he holds you close to him. 

“Hey, don’t worry I got you” He takes tiny steps with you over to the desk in the corner of the room and roots around in its drawers for a moment. You stay stuck to him and he doesn’t let go, he knows how much you hate the dark. 

He turns on the flashlight and hands it to you before grabbing a second one. 

“You cool if I go check the fuse box?” 

“Where is it?” 

He goes through the desk again and grabs a couple walkie-talkies, he turns it on and to the right channel before handing it to you. 

“In the other room, but I’ll be with you the entire time, alright pretty girl? Can you be a big girl for me?” He cups your face and you lean into him, gulping a little but nodding 

“Yeah… yeah I can be” 

“Alright… you know how to use this, yes?” He taps the device and you roll your eyes playfully 

“Oh trust me, yes.” 

“I’m sorry what? Over” Steve holds the walkie to his mouth and you giggle, clicking the button 

“I know what I’m freaking doing. Over” 

You keep the flashlight on him as long as you can until he disappears into the next room, you’re starting to get nervous when the walkie-talkie scratches. 

“Y/N? You there? Over” 

“Hi Stevie, over” You sigh into it and you can hear the smile in his voice 

“Awww, is my big girl scared of the dark? Over” 

“You shut your fat trap. Over” 

“I think it’s cute, all cuddled up with your teddy bear, little flashlight in your hand…bet you’d look even cuter with me pumping my-“

You hear a scream and a door slam and suddenly the radio cuts off, you jolt up from the couch clutching your teddy bear and holding onto the flashlight tighter. 

“Steve?? Steve are you there???” 

It’s silent for a few seconds, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“You didn’t say over. Over” 

“Steve Harrington!” You screech into the radio and scream when you’re suddenly tackled over, you go to smash your flashlight across his face and he catches it 

“No no baby it’s me it’s me!!! It’s Steve!” He’s wheeze laughing as he holds you down, and you try and kick at him. Tears are streaming down your face and he coos, letting go of your arms. 

“Ohhh nooo no baby don’t cry I’m so sorry” He laughs as he cups your face, kissing your cheeks. You shove him off you and he grabs your waist. 

“Hear me out, hear me out”

“No! I’m breaking up with you!” You wipe at your eyes, your hands shaking and he hugs you as tight as he can 

“I swear I screamed for a reason! I promise! The grabbing you part was just me being an asshat”

“What the hell were you screaming for!” You punch him in the gut and he wheezes, falling over and letting go of you 

“There was a bat, it literally flew right at my face” 

“A bat?!” 

“Don’t worry! I locked him in the laundry room”

“What about the power??” 

“…Lemme make a call” 

Steve comes back in the room from calling the power company and flops onto the couch, he sighs loudly as he runs his hands over his face and you snuggle into his side, putting your head on his chest.

“So?” 

“Uh… well, the power will be back on in a few hours. But this house is going to be freezing by then, we can go home to your place if you want” 

A little thrill shoots up your spine when he says, “Home” You look around the room and sigh. 

“Well we can’t exactly hang more decorations in the dark” 

“I mean I could always start a fire if you wanted” He shrugs and nods over to the fireplace. It’s clean with fresh logs in it and you sit up excitedly 

“Can I roast marshmallows?” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be chestnuts, but sure” He snickers as he crawls over to the large fireplace and stacks the logs properly, he grabs some wrapping paper and lights it before setting it on the kindling. It goes up fast and you’re clearly impressed as you come to stand next to him.

“You know, that’s pretty sexy” You cross your arms over your chest as you watch him slowly stack the logs, the fire burning brighter with each piece. 

“Why thank you, would it be sexier if I told you I chopped the wood myself?” He looks up at you after placing the gate and you squirm a little, squeezing your thighs together

“Maybe…” 

He smirks as you bend down and kiss him. You pull away a little, looking into his eyes. His lashes are so long and pretty; you like the way they dust his cheeks when his eyes are closed. 

“You wanna do somethin’ fun?” He asks suddenly, breaking your little haze and you perk up

“Yeah okay” you shrug and he claps his hands together before standing up 

“Put those cushions on the floor, I’ll be right back okay?” 

“Okay” He pecks your lips before leaving and you blush as you get to work, taking all the cushions from the floor and putting them in a little pile on the floor. He returns with a ridiculous armful of blankets and tosses them on the floor. 

“If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s build a fort” 

You work together, and he teaches you how to build a fort, putting the pillows at the perfect angle so they’ll stay up. You giggle watching his intense concentration as he puts the blanket over the top. You set up the inside with more pillows and blankets and make it nice and comfy. Eventually, he crawls in with you, settling on his side. He holds out his arm and nods. 

“So? Opinions?” 

You giggle and lay on your back, looking up at the star-covered sheet on top. Man, he really did know what he was doing.

“It’s great!” You make grabby hands at him and he puts his arm over you, nuzzling his face into your neck 

“Good, I’m glad you like it. Gonna build you a real house someday” 

Your heart melts immediately at his words, your cheeks flushing hot as you hold him to your chest. He kisses your neck gently, slowly sucking a dark spot onto it. His hands come up your sides and you run your fingers through his messy hair, tugging lightly as he pulls your leg up. You squeak as he rolls you over on top of him and smiles as you sit up, your hands on his chest. 

“You really wanna be with me that long?” You ask quietly and he sits up with you, cupping your face 

“Baby I wanna be with you forever” 

“Oh Stevie,” You say softly as you press your lips to his, he wraps his arms around you, going right back to where he was as he eases your shirt up slowly, taking his time to feel your soft body in his hands as you take his shirt off. His chest hair feels good under your fingertips and you purr quietly as he pulls your hips down on him.

“You wanna do somethin’ else fun?” He mumbles against your lips, smirking as he pulls away a little and you smile with him. 

“You wanna know what I’ve never done before?” You scoot back off the pillows and onto the plush rug in front of the warm fire. You slowly remove your bra, toss it back into the fort, and sit back on your palms, your body on display for him as you make a little come here motion with your finger. 

“I have a feeling I can guess” He crawls out toward you, lying his body between your spread legs and kissing your thighs. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, gonna make me cum in my pants” his voice breaks and your eyes roll back at the soft whining noise he lets out as he grinds his cock into the floor. He nuzzles his nose against your panties, inhaling the sweet scent before dragging his tongue over the wet patch on the front. He swirls his tongue around it, making out with your panties before hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down. You lift your hips and he takes them off, tossing them aside, and leans in again, his eyes rolling back as stares at your glistening puffy lips.

He gets on his knees, shoving his pants down and wriggling them off and you giggle as he awkwardly throws them aside. He strokes his cock a few times, tapping it on your clit and running it through your folds. 

“You ready for me sweet girl? Ready for me to stuff this pretty little pussy?” He comes forward, bending down to suck your nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the perky bud as it hardens. He pushes you down slowly, releasing your nipple with a wet pop and you moan softly, reaching for him. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his chest against yours and purring at the soft curls coming into contact with your skin, he buries his face in your neck, biting that soft spot between your neck and shoulders before pushing into you slowly. 

The fire crackles around you, filling your chest with a deep warmth as he slides into you, thrusting shallowly a few times. You mewl softly and he swallows your moans, kissing you deeply as he pumps his cock in and out. He balances himself on his elbows, rolling his hips and grinding against your clit with each deep stroke, you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him in further with each thrust. 

"You like that, don't you?" He growls, his eyes dark with lust. "You like feeling my big cock stretch this pretty little pussy?"

His body has a light sheen of sweat on it as he picks up the pace, sitting up on his knees and grabbing your leg, pushing it upward so you’re in an L shape. You let out little high-pitched squeaks as he thrusts harder, his body snapping against yours. 

You reach forward with a shaky hand, rubbing your clit as he drapes your leg over his shoulder, the fire warms your back, as he ruts into you, growling lowly.

“F-fuck Stevie, Jesus Christ” You whimper, your eyes falling closed and he knows you’re just as close as he is. 

“Cum on my cock baby, fuck lemme see you fall apart” 

He reaches down, replacing your fingers with his and rubbing your clit in fast messy circles, your body shudders and you reach out for his arm, scratching at it as you cum on his cock. You gasp loudly, your head falling back into the fluffy carpet underneath you, your face twisting in pleasure. 

“Fuck you’re so pretty when you cum, so pretty cumming all over my cock like a little slut” 

He thrusts into you one last time, lifting your hips up with his cock as he cums inside you, burying his cock deeply as he finishes inside you. He presses into your tight heat, slowly putting your leg down before falling on top of you. 

You let out a soft “oof” and he nuzzles into you, peppering little kisses over your jaw and neck.

“That was good,” he says breathlessly and you nod, running your fingers through his sweaty hair and massaging his scalp. 

“Very very good” You agree, turning to face him. He kisses your nose and you giggle, nuzzling yours against his 

“I love you” He moves a strand of hair from your forehead, kissing you softly. 

“I love you too” you whisper back, looking into his eyes. He stares at you, trailing his finger over your cheekbone and he’s never been more sure of what he’s going to do tomorrow, under your favorite tree, while it snows. He’s already got the lights up and the candle-paved walkway ready. 

[youarethedancingdean]

Day 7 of @steddie-week

Prompt: Free Space

It all started February, 8th. Eddie found a card in his locker after lunch. It was plain except for a comic-style bumblebee and a speech bubble with the phrase 'Bee mine'. First he thought this was some sort of stupid prank by his band mates, Gareth would come up with something like this. But after opening it and reading what was written in it, he wasn't so sure anymore.

Eddie.

I know, it's not Valentine's Day yet, which is why I'm not asking you to be my valentine. But be sure, I will come the time.

Isn't the bee cute?

The handwriting was too neat to be any of his friends'. God, what if this was some delusional girl with a crush on the school freak, the gay school freak. He better start finding the words to let her down easy.

Two day later, Eddie found a card in his backpack. What the hell, who had put that there? This one wasn't one you could open. The front was white and said 'Save the Date' in baby pink, cursive letters.

Of course, I'm not planing our wedding. I'm not that insane. But, you do have a date on the 14th. Make sure you're free, will you?

Tacos or pizza?

Tacos all the way, but who was this? Eddie had never had a secret admirer, let alone a date. Was this really for real or just a stupid prank in the end. He found, that he was hoping this was real. Even if he'd let down a girl, at least someone had been interested in him this way for once.

The 12th came around and so did the third card. He came home from band practice to find it in the mailbox of his uncle's trailer. The envelope it was in was plain white, the only thing on it was 'Eddie.' written in the by now so familiar handwriting.

The card was hand drawn this time. It was a sleeping bat hanging from the branch of a tree and a small red chested bird on the same branch. The drawing wasn't extravagant, but still pretty damn good. The inside read a joke that only a true nerd would really get. Maybe his admirer was nerdy, too? This was getting pretty interesting.

Be the bat man to my robin ♡

On Valentine's Day Eddie expected someone or at least a card to pop up at every corner. All day, though, he didn't get anything. He didn't even know where his stupid date would be, so he needed to get something, right?

It was 6:30 pm, when he heard a knock on the trailer's door. He jumped up excitedly, only to be disappointed when he opened the door to see Steve Harrington. Don't get him wrong, he thought Steve was beautiful and– GOD– he would date the living shit out of him. But there was no way Steve 'Straight Boy' Harrington had a thing for him. Hell, they barely exchanged nice words.

"Kids aren't here. Didn't they specify where to pick them up again? I think it's Max’ this time," he mentioned instead of greeting Steve, pointing at the trailer across the street where Max and her mother lived. "Not here to pick up the kids, here to pick up you," Steve responded with a cheeky smile, which left Eddie's face with a frown of confusion.

He was handed a small bouquet of flowers, all of them unique and unusual and definitely not some cheesy ones like roses. "Who put you up to this? I need to know, man. I've been getting these cards all week and I need to tell her... well, I need to talk to her. Steve only smiled wider, pointing at the small card in the bouquet. It finally read 'Be my Valentine' and contrary to the others he'd gotten it was just a basic, red and pink Valentine's Day card you could get anywhere.

You want tacos, don't you?

- Steve

Eddie’s eyes widened as he looked back up at the man in front of him. "You're straight," was all he said, quietly and calmly. He had to prepare himself for a disappointment, this had to be a prank after all. "Thank you for the diagnosis, Dr. Munson. But, I think you're wrong there. Look, maybe I shouldn't have made it this cheesy and silly, but I that's how I am, okay. And it's better you know that before you agree to go out with me. So? Tacos?" Steve was clearly pretty insecure and nervous, but he was also dressed nicely and his hair was looking even better than usually. And he knew he would pick tacos. "You're into me? You wanna date me?" Eddie asked, still in shock from it all. Steve nodded. "Let me get my jacket, you're driving," Eddie responded instantly, earning a relieved chuckle from Steve. "And, of course, were having tacos!" he called from his bedroom over the noises of someone looking for something specific in a huge mess.

[magniloquent-raven]

i wrote this for me but yall can read it too if u want 💖it's just 2k of piercing kink lmfao

(so. cw needles)

"What's this?" Billy flicks a balled up grocery bag aside, plastic clips and crumpled receipts rustling as he shifts the mess around. He's pretty sure Steve hasn't cleaned this shitty little table out since...ever, probably. If he digs far enough he'll probably find whatever crap the previous renters left behind.

Steve flops on his side, wriggling over a cushion to join him, and propping his chin on the arm of the couch. It doesn't get him far enough to see into the drawer. Billy rolls his eyes and pinches the baggie, lifting it high enough to sarcastically wave it in Steve's face.

Needles glint in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Straight, silver, hollow-point needles, individually wrapped in neat little conjoined packages. There's other shit in the bag too, antiseptic wipes in packets stamped with green lettering, weird looking tongs, latex gloves rolled into a nearly unrecognizable blue mass.

Maybe the better question would've been why does Steve goddamn Harrington have a piercing kit?

Steve blinks at it, recognition dawning at a snail's pace. "Oh, that." He folds his arms under his chin, resting on his forearms. His cheek squishes a little and Billy wants to do something stupid. Like. Grab his face. Or kiss the dumb little wrinkle between his brows. "That's Robin's fault."

"What."

"She wanted her nose pierced. And it's, like. Cheaper to just buy the stuff for it, I guess." He blows a strand of hair out of his eyes, and Billy's fingers twitch. "I told her it was a dumbass idea. But it turns out, not for the reasons I thought. She freaked out when I put the needle through. So. Yeah. It was a whole thing."

"Hm."

Billy eyes the kit. Imagines Buckley flailing and teary with a needle stuck in her face. Expects to be amused by her being a giant baby but instead the thought...changes. Shifts. To Steve and his careful fingers, gently preparing the spot, guiding her head to the right angle...

A surge of jealousy hits him in the chest, and the scene blurs, getting less coherent, until—

Cold needle and warm hands, the sharp rush of it, pain and heat and an indefinable feeling prickling up his spine.

Billy fiddles with the silver hoops in his ear.

There's something simmering in his gut. Nerves, maybe, partly. But it's more than that. Deeper. He bites his lip.

"You should do me too."

Steve sputters, a pink flush blooming on his cheeks.

Billy grins at him, all canine and confidence he doesn't feel. "Piercing, Harrington."

"But—"

"Nah, c'mon, we're doing this." He tosses the baggie at Steve—who fumbles, but catches it—and with his newly freed hands, strips off his shirt. He drops it on the floor, not bothered about where it might land.

Steve is doing his best impression of a fish out of water, shallow, quiet breaths the only sound escaping his gaping mouth. His entire face has gone splotchy. It's kind of adorable.

"I don't have all day," Billy prods. He does, and even if he didn't, he'd make time. But Steve doesn't need to know that. "I'm not gonna freak out, if that makes you feel any better. Cross my heart." He draws an x on his bare chest. Steve's eyes follow the motion, and linger even after he's dropped his hand.

He's been doing that a lot lately. Lingering. Looking. It's...interesting. Exhilarating.

"This is a stupid idea," Steve says faintly.

"When has that ever stopped you?"

That gets a laugh out of Steve, the corner of his eyes crinkled as he scoffs and acts offended. "Whatever, man, just don't blame me if it gets infected."

They're doing this. They're fucking doing this. Billy's stomach swoops like a bird in flight.

This is such a dumb idea.

Billy doesn't care.

He sits on the coffee table, across from Steve, who's still half-lounging on the couch. Their knees brush, and Billy feels it everywhere. He's a live wire, tense and jittery as a current runs through him, tingling in his extremities and coiling in his guts. It takes more than a little effort just to keep still and appear unaffected.

Steve eyes him, his gaze wandering up and down. "So. I'm guessing you don't want it in your nose..."

Billy snickers at that, he can't help it. "Do you say that to all the girls?"

"Good idea, mock the guy who's about to poke holes in you."

"No, no, I'm being serious," Billy dissolves into further giggles, "If you haven't figured out where to stick it yet I'd like to know."

"Har har."

"I could give you some pointers."

"Are you done?" The question is punctuated by the elastic snap of Steve pulling on a latex glove. He's trying to keep his expression neutral, unimpressed and unamused, one eyebrow raised and his lips flat, but there's a hint of mirth glittering in his eye and the corner of his mouth keeps twitching. Overall the way he's watching Billy fall all over himself laughing is too fond, too warm to be convincingly annoyed.

That shuts Billy up faster than genuine annoyance would have. He rubs the back of his neck, like he can wipe away the hot flush with his hands, and he ducks his head to hide a dopey grin.

"Alright." There's a rustling noise as Steve digs through the bag. "Um. I gotta." He waves the wipe he retrieved, vaguely gesturing at Billy's chest with it. The kit is clutched in his other hand, wrinkled between his tense fingers.

"What are you waiting for."

Steve inspects him. Silently. Eyes skimming over his chest again, flicking up to his face nervously. "You're sure about this, right?"

"Yes."

"You're really—"

"Steve. I really want you to do it."

Steve lets out a slow, quiet breath. "Okay." He nods, his expression hardening into something more determined. Something that makes Billy want to kiss his stupid face even more than usual.

It doesn't help that the next thing Steve does is put his hands on Billy's chest. He only needed one. Two fingers separated from Billy's skin by cold, damp antiseptic. Two fingers circling the hard nub of his nipple while his thumb brushes sensitive skin underneath. That would have been overwhelming enough. But Steve shifts closer to him, perched on the edge of the couch, positioning himself between Billy's thighs, and skims his palm up Billy's side, over his ribs, for no goddamn reason.

He's not keeping Billy in place, his touch is too soft for that, he's just...holding him.

Billy's insides are mush. Hot syrupy goop.

And his dick is a hard line in his jeans, straining against his zipper.

He bites his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth to keep quiet. It feels wrong somehow, to look at Steve right now, while he's getting off on something that's...it's not the same for Steve. They're not on the same page, and he knows it. But he can't tear his eyes away. He's so close. And so pretty. Even more so when he's concentrating. Dark eyes focused only on Billy. Lips parted just a little.

"Okay, I gotta use the...this thing. Now." Steve tosses the wipe aside and picks up the clamp, clicking it a couple times and staring at it like it's a note written in a foreign language.

"Mhm." Billy does his best not to squirm.

See, the thing is, Billy's the only person who's ever done anything to his nipples. Like it's never occurred to the people he's slept with that he'd enjoy it. Maybe they just didn't care to ask. And maybe he was too embarrassed to bring it up. Chicks like getting their nipples played with, okay. It's...it's stupid that he can't get himself off without one pinched between his fingers. It's weird that sometimes he neglects his cock because he's got both hands up his shirt.

Turns out being touched by someone else is on a whole different level. Touched without a flimsy barrier between them. Touched firmly, with intention. 

He sways forward, jolting a little when Steve pinches, tugs, sending a bolt of heat right through him. He grips the edge of coffee table hard enough to hear it creak.

The clamp is colder than the wipe. Or maybe he's just warmer now. He can feel his pulse pounding, and he can almost hear the blood rushing south. 

"You're being really quiet," Steve says carefully. The clamp is securely in place, but Steve hasn't taken his hand off Billy's chest yet. His palm is a little sweaty, cupped under Billy's pec, his thumb moving absently in circles that make Billy shiver. 

"Is there something you'd like me to say?" Jesus, he didn't expect to sound so hoarse. 

Steve opens his mouth. Closes it again. "Um." He busies himself with rooting through the kit to fish out a needle. "Nope. Just. Usually I can't get you to shut up, so." 

He doesn't have a witty reply. Or even a fucking stupid one. There's nothing in his head but static and a silver gleam. 

"Last chance to back out."

Billy lets out an annoyed huff. 

"Okay. Well. Here we go." 

Here they go. 

Billy's breath catches when Steve unwraps the needle, his imagination already three steps ahead. The phantom sensation is enough to make his dick throb. 

He's as patient as he can be with Steve's hesitation. His lingering a hair's breadth from Billy with the needle's point. His shaky little breath to steel himself. Billy's about ready to crawl out of his own skin by the time Steve finally thrusts in and pierces him. 

As much as he was waiting and waiting and waiting for it, he wasn't fully expecting it when it happened, and it knocks the air from his lungs. One small point of contact is his whole world for the seconds it takes to pass through, one crystalized moment, sharp and shining. And then the rush. The blanket of warmth that settles over him afterwards. 

He doesn't realize his eyes have fallen shut until he opens them again, blinking until Steve's wide-eyed stare comes into focus. 

"I've got the, uh. Barbell. Gonna put that in now."

It's a tricky part. Billy wonders vaguely if Steve actually knows what he's doing, and he finds he doesn't care. He cares even less when he feels the needle move again, tugging, rubbing against sensitive skin. His gaze drops to the little bit of tongue poking out the corner of Steve's mouth, and everything else seems a little blurry. He shifts his hips, just a little, he can't help it. It's not a conscious thought, it's just friction; Steve's clever fingers and the warm scent of honey shampoo are making him dizzy. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, letting himself sink a little deeper into the haze of sensations. 

"There! Done," Steve says it, but he doesn't pull away. "Did you want the other one—"

"Yes."

Steve blinks at him. "You seem kinda…" His gaze wanders. Downward. A little more. And then his eyes widen. "Oh."

He doesn't sound as freaked out as Billy might've expected. He mostly sounds…curious. Which. Is very interesting. 

"Well. I guess I'll do you again then."

Holy shit. 

Okay.

It's different the second time. Steve's different. He teases, wiping Billy clean for much longer than he needs to, circling and circling 'til Billy's squirming, aching, wanting more but unwilling to beg. Every time he shifts his hips a shudder jitters up his spine. His briefs are wet and sticking to the tip of his dick, still uncomfortably trapped by denim.

It's also harder to keep track of Steve's individual movements. Getting the clamp, unwrapping the needle, putting the bag down, throwing the ripped packaging aside. The first time he was hyperaware of everything, anticipation clawing at his patience. Now, he's sinking into a warm bath, he's floating on a cloud, he's loose-limbed and more focused on the hot flush on his chest and the darkness of Steve's blown pupils than anything else.

There's just…moments. The surprised part of Steve's lips when Billy accidentally lets a whimper slip. The needle point piercing his skin. The sudden wave of heat that slams him in the gut when Steve brushes his knuckle over Billy's swollen nipple, the way his vision whites out and he trembles and he fucking cums in his jeans, while sitting on Steve's goddamn coffee table.

He's not sure when exactly Steve finished up, but suddenly he's all too aware that his chest hurts and his underwear is sticky and Steve is looking uncertain again, despite his hand resting on Billy's thigh.

"So…that was…" Steve flounders. Pauses. Opens his mouth to keep floundering.

Billy kisses him. It's one little peck on the mouth. Just one. It's two seconds of contact, and Billy's heart is only racing because he just had an orgasm, okay.

"Thanks," he says, his voice embarrassingly soft. Like that's gonna make everything less weird. 

But Steve smiles at him. Cracks a grin, and then snickers. Because, yeah, sure, it's weird, it was all weird, but…maybe that's fine.

tag list @spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful @prettyboy-like-you 💕

[berenwrites]

Beyond the Battle - Chapter 10 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Beyond the Battle­: Action & Consequence

Click here for All Posted Chapters

Summary: Steve hits things with a bat or gets hit depending on who you ask. He definitely does not have anything to do with the psychic stuff. That is El’s domain. However, as Vecna is defeated, the rules change.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Other Relationships: Steve & Robin, Steve & Dustin, Eddie & Dustin

Rating: Teen

A/N: Multi-chapter story, updated regularly. Honestly not sure how many chapters it will have yet because it's still a bit hand wavy in the middle, but definitely more than 12. Thank you to my beta for find my mistakes and to all those who read/like/reblog.💖 Follow #st:beyond-the-battle for updates.

Also on AO3

Chapter 10.    A Couple of Things

Steve rolled over to find Eddie sitting up.

“Eddie?” he asked as he realised that a, it was early morning, and b, Eddie had the most amazing bedhead.

However, any amusement flew out of his mind when Eddie looked at him. That wide-eyed worried stare he had seen too many times while they were in the Upside Down was engraved on Eddie’s features.

“What’s wrong,” he asked, sitting up.

He was pretty sure Eddie was not panicking over simply waking up in his bed, no matter how mostly asleep both of them had been when he’d climbed in.

“I’m really thirsty,” Eddie said quietly, “like really, really thirsty.”

That being said, Eddie opened his mouth. Steve squinted because the curtains were half closed and the light wasn’t very good, but then he saw what Eddie was trying to show him. Two neat little fangs were jutting from Eddie’s upper jaw.

“Oh,” Steve said. “Guess that part didn’t completely go away then.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Eddie asked, sounding just a bit hysterical. “Didn’t go away? Steve, I have fangs.”

“Hey,” Steve said, sitting up properly and reaching out to place a hand on Eddie’s arm. “It’s not like you’re some bloodthirsty monster. We can deal with this.”

“How do you know, Steve?” Eddie challenged. “How do you know?”

“Because I woke up to you freaking out, not chowing down on my helpless neck,” he said, giving Eddie a look. “Now how about we deal with this before anyone else wakes up. I think it will be much easier to explain once we can prove the solution, don’t you?”

He held out his wrist towards Eddie.

“Oh my god, you really are a self-sacrificial idiot, aren’t you?” Eddie said as if he could not believe what Steve was saying.

“No, in this case I’m a practical one,” he replied, “and your friend. It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

“That wasn’t the same,” Eddie protested. “That was like some other reality.”

“What happens there still has real world consequences,” he countered waving between both of them to illustrate his point.

“It doesn’t feel like then,” Eddie said, expression twisted with worry.

“That’s because I think some of that was meta… metapsy… no that’s not right … meta something,” he tried to explain.

“Metaphysical?” Eddie suggested.

“Yes, that,” Steve agreed. “El and Will were talking about it while we were still staying at the labs and the way El explains it, it’s not exactly a real place. It’s not like going between here and the Upside Down, it’s well…”

“More like astral projection?” Eddie asked.

“If that’s where you leave your body, then yes,” Steve agreed. “Things there can seem physical and have real world physical consequences, but it’s not necessarily the same thing. You remember biting me, I remember you biting me, but I think it was to do with creating a connection between us so I could help you heal, not actual blood. But it doesn’t make much different because it felt real to us anyway and you proved you can control your instincts.”

“I could hurt you,” Eddie insisted.

“I could heal it,” he pointed out.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Eddie all but whispered.

Steve shuffled a bit closer.

“Eds,” he said, wondering after he’d said it where the nickname came from, “we’ve all come out of this a little different. Some of us like you, me, and Will a lot different, everyone else changed by everything we’ve all been through. We stick together, we deal with it. Please, let me help you. If it turns out not to be good for either of us, we’ll stop, and we’ll call our child geniuses and supergirl to figure out something else.”

Eddie sat there looking at him in silence for a few seconds. It was only then he realised it wasn’t a trick of the light, Eddie’s eyes were black too. When the little red ring appeared, Steve knew Eddie had agreed.

“If I hurt you, you stop me,” Eddie said perfectly seriously.

“I promise,” he replied, lifting his wrist once more.

Eddie’s fingers were cold as they wrapped round his bed warmed skin. His nerves tingled. When black, red-rimmed irises looked up at him, he nodded. It felt momentous, and yet not at the same time. It felt right and obvious.

“One second,” he said, just before Eddie lowered his head.

Leaning over, he grabbed a couple of Kleenex from the pack on the bedside table.

“Sorry, just in case of spillage,” he explained, taking up his previous position.

Eddie took a deep, shuddering breath, and focused on Steve’s wrist.

Steve bit his lip. Eddie’s fangs going in definitely hurt, but the feel of Eddie sucking on his wrist, that went straight to his cock. In a way, Eddie had been right, it was very different from when they had been in the Void, but it was in no way bad. Quite the opposite in fact. And Eddie only took a few swallows before drawing back.

Acting on instinct more than anything else, Steve clamped his other hand over the wounds, drawing his wrist back to him. The Kleenex went red as his blood soaked through, but he concentrated. Not really clear what he was doing, he closed his eyes and didn’t exactly will the holes to close, more he pushed them to be right. It was the strangest sensation as, for a moment, everything around him became distant. His wrist throbbed, just once and the real world jumped back to the forefront of his mind.

Not sure he’d managed to do anything, he moved the Kleenex carefully. What he revealed were two, neat little pink patches on his skin, a mere echo of the holes that had been there.

“Now that is metal,” Eddie said.

“Says the guy with fangs,” was the best comeback Steve could manage.

He touched his nose, but his fingers came away clean. No nosebleed either, which felt like a significant victory.

“Oh, wow, I think I might be high,” Eddie said, swaying slightly where he was sitting.

Definitely not the reaction Eddie had had in the Void either. Steve knelt up and gently took hold of Eddie’s shoulders so he could get a good look at his friend’s face. All the while doing his very best to pretend he wasn’t half hard.

“Your pupils are blown,” he said as Eddie looked at him with his pretty dark eyes that were once again brown, but mostly pupil.

“You taste really good,” Eddie told him. “Wasn’t like this before.”

“Yeah, well I don’t think anything is like before,” Steve replied, doing his best to ignore the way Eddie was looking at him was stirring feelings he wasn’t sure how to deal with.

“You have lovely eyes,” Eddie said with a small smile. “Everyone always talks about the hair, but your eyes are amazing. You have a first-class ass too…”

“Okay,” Steve said, feeling his face heat up, “how about you lie down and try to get some more sleep. It’s still early and I don’t think you know what you’re saying.”

“Yeah, maybe, sleep’s good,” Eddie said, moving as Steve gently urged him back towards the bed. “Meant what I said though,” Eddie muttered, relaxing surprisingly quickly.

For a while Steve sat there processing. On the one hand Eddie had definitely been kind of high so anything he said couldn’t be held against him, however, Steve also knew that sometimes that was when the real truths came out. Straight guys didn’t usually tell other guys they had pretty eyes and a nice ass unless they were taking the piss. He was pretty sure Eddie had not been doing that.

Of course, the bigger thing he was trying to deal with was his own reaction. He wasn’t horrified by Eddie’s words, he wasn’t even a little bit worried, quite the opposite in fact, he was pretty sure he was reacting in exactly the same way he would if a pretty girl had told him those things. Now that he looked back, it had started in the Void. Complicated feelings from before had now started to untangle themselves and were making a very obvious pattern.

Climbing out of bed carefully, so as not to wake Eddie, he walked out of his room and down the landing to the second guest bedroom. The door was partially open, and he stepped inside, padding over to the bed and sitting down beside a still sleeping Robin.

“Robin,” he said, gently shaking her shoulder.

The only response was a noise of discontent.

“Robin,” he persisted.

“What?” she asked, not opening her eyes. “You’re still in the doghouse, y’know.”

“Sorry, I kind of need to talk to you,” he said quietly.

Something in his tone must have been enough, because Robin sat up, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Hey, Steve,” she said in a much gentler voice, reaching out and taking his hand, a worried little frown clouding her features, “what’s up? I’m not really mad at you, promise.”

“You know you explained how some people like the opposite gender, some like the same, some like both, some don’t like any and everything else?” he asked.

He could tell by the way Robin’s eyes opened that she hadn’t really expected where the conversation was going.

“Of course,” she replied.

“I think,” he said, going over everything in his head again just to make sure. “I think I might be one of the people who like both.”

“And that’s perfectly okay, right,” Robin said, moving closer to him. “You get that, don’t you?”

He nodded.

“Do you mind me asking how you figured it out?” she asked carefully.

“Eddie,” he admitted.

“Hmmm,” Robin said.

“You don’t look surprised,” he observed.

“Yep,” Robin admitted, “I thought you might say that. You kinda get this look on your face when you’re into someone,” she told him. “I might be shit at telling if a girl is into me, but I’m kind of attuned to when you’re into a girl, or in this case a guy.”

“Oh,” he said as he let that sink in. “But its’s not just because he’s back from the dead…”

“I know,” Robin said, effectively shutting him up.

“How?” he asked, because that was definitely the first thing he had thought of.

“Because you didn’t get that look after Eddie died,” Robin told him, giving him that intense look of her. “That last time in the Upside Down, when we left behind Dustin and Eddie as decoys, you had it then.”

He almost contradicted her, after all he’d barely known Eddie at that point, but he didn’t, instead mulling it over.

“Oh,” he said again as he replayed that time in his mind.

It had not had a happy conclusion and he usually tried to avoid the memories most of the time, but he let it play through his thoughts.

“You never said anything,” he said eventually, not quite sure what to think.

“Didn’t want to pressure you,” Robin said, squeezing his hand. “Kind of something you have to figure out on your own, so I was waiting for you to come to me. Honestly, I was expecting a bit more of a crisis, you’ve always been so very straight.”

He shrugged.

“Probably would have been,” he admitted, “but with everything else, it doesn’t feel quite as big as it might have.”

“I suppose raising the dead could be considered a bit higher on the momentous events scale,” Robin commented.

“He wasn’t dead,” Steve countered automatically and rolled his eyes at her, for which he earned a smile.

“That’s called splitting hairs, Dingus,” she said airily. “So, spill, what made you finally realise?”

The memory of Eddie’s mouth on his wrist flashed into his head and he felt his cheeks heat up almost instantly.

“Steven Harrington, have you been kissing another boy?” Robin accused, teasing him mercilessly.

“Not exactly,” he said, ducking his head.

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” Robin said, “because I have never seen you blush this badly before.”

“Fine,” he replied, “but you have to promise not to yell at me.”

Robin gave him that look as if she was peering over horn-rimmed spectacles or something.

“Eddie woke up with fangs, I let him bite me, bullied him into it really, and there was nothing platonic about it, at least on my end. He got high off my blood and told me I had pretty eyes and a nice ass,” he confessed all in one go.

Robin’s mouth fell into a little ‘o’.

“Please say something,” he begged.

“Eddie is a vampire?” Robin finally asked.

“Kind of, only not really,” he did his best to explain. “I think it’s a hangover from what Vecna did to him. He was dying of hunger when I first saw him in the Void and I told you I let him feed from me, only it wasn’t remotely the same, and I think then it was mostly about creating a connection which let me heal him. He doesn’t have fangs anymore most of the time, so I think it’s an only-when-he’s-really-hungry thing, and he didn’t have them yesterday and he had no problem with sunlight. After all you found us outside and…”

Robin put her finger on his lips, so he shut up.

“Did he hurt you?” she asked.

“No, god no,” he promised. “It was kind of erotic actually, and I healed the bite.”

He held out his wrist where the two little pink patches were already fading.

“Oh my god,” Robin said, running her hands through her hair, “not only have you had a bisexual awakening, but you have a biting kink too. Steve, you never do anything the easy way, do you?”

“What do I do?” he asked, because he felt way out of his depth.

“About Eddie being a vampire or Eddie floating your boat?” Robin asked.

“The second,” he replied. “I think we’ve got the first one covered, although we’re going to have to let everyone else know.”

“I think other people might find the vampire thing a bigger deal than you do,” Robin pointed out, “but let’s skip that for now. What do you want to do about Eddie?”

“Kiss him within an inch of his life,” Steve said perfectly honestly.

Robin blinked at him for a moment, opening her mouth and then closing it again.

“Actually,” she said eventually, “that’s a really cute picture in my head.”

“Robin, focus,” he prompted.

“Sorry,” she said. “I think you need to talk to him,” she went on. “He knows what he said, you know what he said, so be brave, have a conversation about it.”

“What if he says he didn’t mean it?” Steve asked.

“Then he’s full of shit,” Robin said without any hesitation. “Steve, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You’re not the only one who was giving off signals. I might not read Eddie as well as I read Dingus, but I’m also not blind.”

She made more sense than he really wanted to admit. Not that it made everything any easier.

“But until then,” she said, glancing at her watch, “it’s ass o’clock in the morning. Sleep now, talk later.” She was already lying back down, dragging him along. He surrendered, letting her snuggle into him, but he didn’t close his eyes. He had too much to think about.

End of Chapter 10

Chapter 11

[hello-sweetheart]

Neat Freak

Steve’s parents don’t make him keep the house spotless. He really is just that clean and when Nancy tries to tell people there like “lol, sure” but she knows.

He’s a neat freak.

When she would stay over she would change into her pjs and make a small bundle of her day clothes on his desk chair, and steve would just. Fold them. Before getting in bed with her.

Doesn’t take long after for the others to realize it.

Robin thought it was just a guy thing, caring that much about their car. Scolding her for kicking her socked feet up on the dash, and leaving crumbs of toast when she had breakfast to go.

But then she visits his house the first time and Robin has never been good at using a coaster, too scatter brained to pay attention where she sets her drink down each time.

Steve, though? Without missing a beat he will move her glass to the coaster. Every time. Doesn’t even break his strike or pauses his conversation it’s just muscle memory by now.

The kids have had their will broken and no longer put up a fight.

Without being told to anymore, they toe off their shoes and hang their coat by the doorway. They don’t even do that in their own home. How Steve was able to get those wild animals house broken? No body knows.

His mom didn’t actually choose his room decor. It looks a bit barren but Steve likes it that way. It looks clean, easier to do so, too. Everything has its place tucked away from sight so it’s not an eye sore.

Even his plaid wallpaper and curtains he chose for himself. He spent all day finding the curtains that matched the closest and he was really proud of himself when found some.

“Steve, buddy, this looks mental.”

“But look,” (closest the curtains to show that even the pattern lines up seemlessly) “you almost can’t even see the difference between the wall and fabric. It’s like magic! It’s cool!” >:(

He’s very meticulous about his appearance. Dustin is absolutely flabbergasted when he sees his full hair routine for himself. Everything must be done a certain way in a certain order every time. It’s routine.

“Three puffs of the Farah Fawcett! THREE!”

“I DID THREE.”

“YEAH, BUT YOU DID THEM WRONG.”

When they discontinue it, Steve has a mini breakdown. He doesn’t like that his very specific and set routine has been broken. He’s convinced he’ll never find a hair spray to replace it. Everybody stocks up on cans of it to try and lower his anxiety.

He just loves cleaning, okay?

Ironing his kakis and polos until there are no wrinkles is so satisfying. Glass without finger smudges is so nice. His closet being organized by color is so efficient. When he’s worried, anxious, or angry he likes to keep his hands busy and it just calms him down going ham on a water stain in the bathroom.

When he hangs out at Eddie’s, he mindlessly starts picking things up here and there. It’s like heaven for him. He sees a mess and just wants to go to town. Eddie doesn’t mind as long as he knows where everything is in the end. He’ll admit that having his music organized alphabetically is pretty convenient.

It’s also a little funny to watch Steve iron his ripped jeans and battle jacket with an iron he brought from home.

“You’re a freak, Harrington.” Eddie has a shit eating grin. Steve flips him off.

“Fuck off.”

[drinkingbeerfroma]

Wrote a lil fic inspired by this amazing Subway AU art, if you wanna check it out :))

Subway Rats and Weird Men

Summary:

Steve's weighing his chances if he’s strong enough to punch the guy and make a run for it, but he thinks he’s too lithe to carry any actual weight into his fist. God knows Steve hasn’t won a single fight in his entire life and thinks this time may not be an exception. Guy’s all bricked up.

—

Steve rides the train late at night, tries to solve a mystery, meets a hot stranger, a creep and a stalker, and gets himself a boyfriend, all while trying not to fall asleep and get bitten by rats.

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationship: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington

Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove

Completed

Words: 3,703

Chapters: 3/3

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Working Adults, Modern AU, Steve Harrington is a little neurotic, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, but a neat freak, Billy Hargrove is Obsessed with Steve Harrington, IT'S DELICIOUS, Billy Hargrove is a creep, But a hot creep, Some light stalking implied, Subway rats and romance go hand in hand, non-linear story telling, Subway AU

More of Subway!AU harringrove 😴

🔪🔪🔪 в вк не репостить🔪🔪🔪  

[rollerskate2theface]

Stranger Things future AU where Eddie becomes famous

*During an Corroded Coffin interview*

Eddie: Oh yeah a TON of weird shit happened where we grew up, my high school bully died falling through a fault line after a massive earthquake

Gareth: Eddie man he wasn’t a high school bully he literally tried to hunt and kill you

Eddie: So did half the town he’s not special

The interviewer: 🧍

——————————————————————————

*In the middle of a Corroded Coffin performance*

Eddie: Hey everybody! Hope you’re having an awesome time, just wanted to shout out my most metal fan Congresswoman Applejack!

Erica *shouting from the crowd*: I’m not a fan, nerd, you begged me to come here!

——————————————————————————

*Eddie on Twitter*

@EddieMunstrosity ✓

Hey @Michael_Byers remember when you made up having a girlfriend all of your freshman year? Hah lameo

@Michael_Byers ✓

Eddie you know El, she literally saved you from being eaten alive by bats

@Jane.Hopper.Byers

Accusations

@Michael_Byers ✓

Oh come on El we dated

@Jane.Hopper.Byers

False accusations

@EddieMunstrosity ✓

💀💀💀💀

@C0roded-C0ffin-Stan

She saved you from WHAT

——————————————————————————

*On a livestream*

Eddie: What’s up my little sheep, I’m just cooking dinner

Steve *offscreen*: Nope

Eddie: I’m just doing some prep

Steve *offscreen*: Try again

Eddie: I’m just patiently waiting for dinner

Steve *offscreen*: Not quite

Eddie: I’m just getting in the way of my lovely husband who’s cooking dinner?

Steve *walking into frame*: Ding ding ding now say goodbye to the people and get off the counter

Eddie *waving at the camera*: Goodbye to the people and get off the counter

——————————————————————————

*Twitter again*

@Trashytabloid

Lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin, Eddie Munson, and famous New York Times photographer, Jonathan Wheeler-Byers spotted having lunch together only 6 days before Valentines Day. Could there be an affair in our midsts? To find out read: https://thisisfake.com

@Steve_M

Wow Jon you steal my first love AND the loml? Shammmme

@Jonathan.Wheeler ✓

What can I say I’m irresistible

@EddieMunstrosity ✓

@Steve_M baby I’m so sorry I couldn’t resist his charms

@Nancy.Wheeler ✓

Felt 😔

@Steve_M

NANCE 😭

@Buckman_And_Robin

NANCE 😂

——————————————————————————

*Corroded Coffin on The Tonight Show*

Jimmy Fallon: So Jeff, I hear that you write a majority of the band’s songs, do you feel that that’s appreciated in the group

Jeff: Oh, thank you for asking Jimmy, I absolutely do not think that’s appreciated, no

Jimmy *laughing*: What?!

Grant, Eddie, & Gareth: WOAH woah woah What?? What do you mean?? Hey cmon man!

Jeff: Ed broke into my place at 4 in the morning a couple days ago telling me to write a song about “how it feels to be a lizard”. What does that even mean???

Eddie: You just don’t get the vision

Jeff: THEN WRITE IT YOURSELF WEIRDO- see what I’m talking about here Jimmy?

[steddie-there]

Steve's got his hands on his hips, a scowl on his face, and Eddie's leaning in the door to the kitchen, arms crossed tight over his chest and glare directed at the table. The table with a neat stack of notebooks and pile of dice and clump of miniatures all standing in rows. The table where, yesterday, he had notebooks spread open, drawings and notes for different campaign ideas paired with miniatures and sets of dice, visual cues for the plans and stories.

"I just don't get why you're so upset," Steve bitches. "All I did was clean!"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I'm upset because now I can't find any of my shit." It's a lot more growly than he intends, but it also sounds how he feels so he rolls with it.

Thump

"Not exactly sure how you could find any of it before," Steve gripes, ignoring the thumping noise from the living room. "Our table looked like a bomb had been dropped on it."

Thump

Steve ignored the thumping sound, so Eddie does, too, even though it's gotten closer and louder. "Oh, well excuuuuse me for having a system," he says, flinging his arms out, his volume increasing by the second. "I knew where everything was and how it all went together. Now I have to figure it all out again. You think you'd relate, the way the bathroom looks. But you don't see me moving your hair shit around, do you? So this? This was bullshit."

THUMP

Steve's eyes widen and he jerks back and Eddie knows he shouldn't have used that word, he knows, but he's just pissed enough not to care.

"Oh, that's bullshit? Really? You know what's actually bullshit? There was trash in that pile, Eddie. Literal, actual trash. On our kitchen table. And you couldn't be bothered to clean it up, so I did." And now Steve's tone has moved out of bitchy territory into something scathing, something a lot like actual anger, matching Eddie's volume.

It makes Eddie's hands start to shake, makes Steve's breath hitch in his throat because, sure, they've fought before, a little, sniping back and forth about something petty, but it's never been like this. Never to the point of actual yelling. This is starting to feel big and loud in a way their fights never have, and now there's fear laced through the anger, but it doesn't help, only makes everything worse and

THUMPTHUMPTHUMP

This time the thumping is right next to them and they can't ignore it and, in tandem, look down to the floor between them just in time to see Paul thump his back foot again and stare at them with an expression that, if there was just a little less tension between them right now, Eddie would laughingly tell Steve looks exactly like his bitchy babysitter face.

They glance back at each other, then down to their rabbit again, who thumps his foot once more, still glaring up at them

"...I guess someone doesn't like that we're fighting," Eddie says, arms still tight across his chest.

"Yeah," Steve huffs. There's a beat of silence. Then he sighs, his shoulders lowering, running a hand through his hair. "I don't like it, either." His voice is barely more than a whisper.

Eddie bites his lip, dropping his arms a little. "Same," he admits, voice just as soft.

They stand there for a minute, the quiet ringing between them, all the fight draining from their bodies, before Steve steps closer, plucks at the hem of Eddie's shirt, as if he wants to touch but isn't sure it would be welcome.

"I'm sorry, Eds. I shouldn't have moved your things. I was frustrated with the food wrappers and cans on the table and instead of talking to you, I just got mad. You're right, I should understand. The bathroom sink is always a mess, but everything is right where I want it, and you never touch any of it but if you did I'd probably -"

"Hey," Eddie interrupts, gentle, tucking a strand of hair behind Steve's ear, cupping his cheek. "I'm sorry, too. I let it build up really badly and I shouldn't be leaving trash out like that."

Steve leans into the touch with a soft sound, lets his hands rise to circle Eddie's waist, leans their foreheads together. "Still. I should have talked to you."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, but presses a kiss to Steve's forehead because they're talking now and it's gonna be okay and now they know a little bit more. And he wraps his arms tight around Steve's back, tugs him in close.

"I promise I won't move your things anymore. I'll clean around them. And I'll talk to you if something frustrates me," Steve says into Eddie's neck, nuzzling his face into the warmth there, his arms sliding around Eddie's waist.

Eddie tucks a hand into Steve's hair, runs the strands through his fingers. "And I'll be better about throwing the wrappers and cans away so it doesn't get so bad in the first place."

For a long moment, they simply stand, wrapped up in each other, in soft hands and gentle kisses and forgiveness. Then a thought occurs to Eddie and he pulls back just far enough to peer down at Paul, who is now happily flopped against their feet.

"Hey, Stevie... did our rabbit just bully us into communicating like actual adults?"

"...I think he did, yeah," he giggles and after everything, all Eddie wants is to taste Steve's laughter, to feel it in his own mouth, so he leans in for a kiss, grins against Steve's lips.

"Guess we're lucky he's such a smart little bastard, then," he smirks, never more grateful for that day at the petshop than he is right now as they swallow each other's laughter like water after a drought.

---

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Part 7

ao3: And Rabbit Makes Three

[alchemistc]

Eddie practices his arguments with Steve.

The thing is -

Here's the thing. It's not that he's expecting an argument. So far every time either one of them have been irritated with one another, or pissed off about something, they usually just, like, talk about it and shit. Healthy-like, which is -

Totally fucking weird for Eddie My-Parents-Fought-As-A-Love-Language Munson and Steve Still-Figuring-Out-Its-Okay-To-Be-Loved Harrington. It's weird, it is, and Eddie can't help but wonder if Steve is just bottling shit up until it explodes out of him and he realizes that this thing they're doing just isn't worth it anymore.

So.

So Steve does this thing, right?

This thing where he rolls his jaw and sometimes it pops and it makes Eddie want to stick a curly straw up his nose and scramble his own brains. And he's such a fucking neat freak that every time he's over, he ends up rearranging Eddie's room - not even in purpose, just. He likes to touch things, and Eddie gets it, he does, but touching things usually leads to picking things up leads to setting them back down and before Eddie's had time to look up, Steve has swept empty beer cans into the trash and lined up Eddie's models in a neat row like they're troops readying for battle and since he's like a war buff they're always lined up like a little battalion which is cute but also frustrating as hell because - because Eddie's chaos is organized and now he can't find his fucking lyric journal with the song he's very much not ready for people to see, or know about, or -

The point. The point is Eddie has been gearing up to talk to Steve about it for three days now and he's now at the stage where he practices. Works out the scenarios, muddles through possibilities, tries to anticipate every way it could go tits up.

He's never - Steve is most of his firsts, and he knows it's dumb and romantic but he'd like Steve to be all of his lasts, too, and so what if that means he's pacing the length of the trailer (all the while perfecting his Steve-voicr, which has been a tough one to nail but he feels like he's getting there. He's smarter and more eloquent than he lets on, is Steve.) and arguing with himself. Resetting, back to the start, working through a disastrous turn where Steve accuses Eddie of cheating on him (nope, reset, Steve's well aware Eddie wouldn't, cut that from the options).

"And seriously, Eddie, how could you think I'd do that shit to you, you know -."

"What the hell?"

Eddie whirls.

Mike Wheeler is standing in his living room, staring at Eddie like he's grown a second head. Which. Shit. They haven't actually, like, told anyone that they're...doing whatever it is they're doing (There's things Eddie wants to call it, but he hasn't brought them up yet because they're terrifying and super fucking telling and even though he's pretty sure he and Steve are on the same page he doesn't want to presume) so the kids don't know. No one except Robin knows, and she's states away and busy so.

"What the hell right back, Wheeler, what are you doing here?"

"I left my chem textbook here last night. You said I could come get it."

And - sure, he definitely had, but he'd sort of been staring at the hollow where Steve's neck and shoulder met and imagining biting it when he said it, so -

"So you broke into my house?"

"The door was unlocked."

"So you walked uninvited INTO MY HOUSE?" And he's maybe hamming up the annoyance as cover, but Wheeler just stares at him.

"Are you practicing breaking up with Steve?" Wheeler asks without preamble, with zero inflection, not even a quirk of his brow, and Eddie -

Flounders, is a generous term for it. Really what he does is shriek, and cackle, and then cover it up with the weirdest laugh either of them have ever heard which covers nothing at all. "What are - why would you - what makes you think - listen, Michael, you can't just break into people's homes and accuse them of - of - what exactly are you accusing me of?"

"Of having really terrible taste in men, Eddie, where's my textbook?"

"I don't fucking know, Wheeler, Steve rearranges shit all the time so who the hell knows where he would have -."

"It's probably on the bookshelf, then," Mike says, and then squints. "Are you...practicing arguing with Steve?"

"How do you even -?"

"Neither one of you is subtle."

"Shut up, Wheeler."

"If that's how you talk to Steve it's no wonder you have to practice your arguments."

"I'm not - you're infuriating."

Mike squares him with a look that reminds Eddie of when he's calculating hit points and strategizing his next move. He frowns. Sighs. "I have like ten minutes before I have to leave. Steve doesn't think you're cheating on him, so let's start from the top."

---

"The kids know," Eddie tells Steve, fingers shifting in Steve's hair, and Steve's lashes flash as he looks up from Eddie's lap. Mike had been - well, Wheeler might be half a decade younger but he'd been pretty instrumental in helping Eddie nail down the right approach to "Please stop cleaning up my messes you're ruining everything." so another non-argument is in the books, and Steve had looked confused about it but he'd agreed to try not to move shit around at least.

("I'm still cleaning up all the trash, though, you live like a goblin."

"It's hot that you know what a goblin is, baby."

"Nerd.")

"Are you...okay with that?"

"Are you?"

"I asked first."

It's not that he doesn't want to answer, it's just.

Okay he doesn't want to answer. Jesus Christ, he'd used Mike goddamn Wheeler as his Steve stand in to practice an argument that hadn't happened and he's still scared to call Steve his -

"I... don't really know. What to tell them." And that's - shit, not what he meant to say, Jesus.

"What do you mean?"

Steve crinkles his nose, and Eddie hates how goddamn cute it is, because he really wants to just, like, boop the tip of it and then suck Steve off but -

Where's Mike Wheeler when he needs him?

("If you ever tell Steve about this I'll tell Will to TPK your party for the next ten campaigns."

"Why would I tell Steve I'm helping you save your relationship?"

"Brownie points. So you can hold it over Henderson's head. Blackmail."

"I used to be terrified of you, but you're actually super lame, honestly."

"Preaching to the choir, my friend.")

"I mean, what...what do we tell them we...are?"

"Are you freaking out about calling me your boyfriend?"

"...no."

He shifts, and Eddie's fingers slip through the strands of Steve's hair as he shuffles, scoots, sits up and twists to face Eddie.

"I am, right? I mean...you want me to be?"

Eddie hasn't practiced this conversation, because - because it's presumptuous, because it felt sort of like jinxing it, because -

"Yeah. Duh. Of course I - shit. Yeah. Yes."

Steve's smile is bright and a little knowing. "I have a confession."

"I'm not sure I want to hear it."

"Trust me, you want to."

"Okay fine," Eddie tells him, eyes on Steve's hand as he slots their fingers together. Eddie hooks his pinkie along the edge of Steve's sleeve. "Twist my arm, why don't you?"

"I'm actually kind of glad they already know. I've been trying to figure out how to tell them for a while. I've been, like - creating scenarios in my head to try to figure out how they're going to take it."

There's - okay, so Eddie's thinking a lot of things, right at this moment, like how Steve apparently also creates mind-scenarios to play out before a situation happens, and how they might want to test out their creativity in other areas, actually, and that derails his whole train of thought for a moment, but "How long?"

"How long what?"

"Have you been trying to figure out how to tell them?"

Eddie's not insecure, exactly, but he is a big fan of knowing what people he cares about think of him and how often they think of him and -

"I mean, since, like, the first time I kissed you?"

Eddie is stupid crazy about Steve Harrington. He's fully fucking feral for this man, honestly, it's dumb. Absolutely ridiculous.

"I'm in love with you," Eddie tells him, and the tips of Steve's ears are pink.

"I know," he says, with a smarmy little grin because Eddie had admitted (under duress, and screw anyone who doesn't think a naked Steve Harrington in your lap is duress) he'd been obsessed with Harrison Ford for like a full year in his tweens, and Steve takes every opportunity to remind Eddie he knows.

"I'd also very much like to circle back to you creating scripts in your mind about telling the kids about us."

"Henderson's always a nightmare, I swear to god."

"We gotta teach him some humility."

"He respects you more than he respects me, you teach him."

"You gonna say it back?"

"Well not now," Steve says, and Eddie wants to bite him.

---

"I love you," Steve says, while Dustin and Mike and Max argue about who knew first.

Eddie hasn't practiced this one. "I know," he says, and Steve's brow quirks when Dustin catches the exchange and groans.

[collecting-stories]

Two-Headed Calf - Eddie Munson

Summary: You and Eddie are soulmates, but neither of you knows how to tell the other.

A/N: I got the idea for this when I was writing my Steve Harrington AU drabble. I love love this poem and I was thinking of Eddie and it made me think of this poem and I had to write this. Also I am EXTREMELY nervous because this is my first Eddie fic so handle me with kid gloves. My feelings are fragile.

Stranger Things Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Tomorrow when the farm boys find this 

freak of nature, they will wrap his body 

in newspaper and carry him to the museum. 

-February 1982- 

Some people waited decades to meet their soulmates. You had waited a mere six hours, if even that. You’d woken up on the morning of your 16th birthday to a warmth on your arm, the kind that made you rush to the bathroom and look in the mirror.

And there it was, your soulmate tattoo, exactly at the time you had been born, sixteen years prior. A two headed calf with a moon and stars that looked oddly soft and gentle for being a tattoo. You recognized the meaning because it was your favorite poem and the thought alone made your entire heart feel like it was swelling. Maybe it was silly and wistful but you thought the whole notion was romantic and you’d read what felt like thousands of accounts of people finding their soulmates. So you knew, when you saw the tattoo, that it was something different, something you’d only heard about happenings handful of times, something extremely rare, that whoever your soulmate was, you had the same tattoo.  

It was common knowledge that each person’s tattoo was unique, a symbol that was meant to encapsulate something important about their soulmate. But when a tattoo said as much about you as it did about the person you were bound to, that was something deeper. Whatever was more binding than a soulmate, as if you’d been truly cut from the same cloth.  

When you saw the two-headed calf you were excited, bewildered, nervous, happy. It was a rush of emotions coursing through you that didn’t fade away until you were in first period math, sitting in the same seat that you always did, staring at the chalkboard in the front of the room as other students filed in. Getting your tattoo didn’t mean that you were going to find your soulmate right away.  

Your mom had never even met hers. Your dad had, ten years into their marriage, and now he lived in Denver, Colorado with a new wife and family. Your aunt and uncle finally met five years after college. You didn’t know anyone who had met their soulmate right away but then Eddie Munson came in, looking tired and maybe a little burnout for eight in the morning on a Wednesday. He dropped into the seat next to you, like he did every day of the week, and you noticed (for the first time maybe) a familiar tattoo peeking out from the sleeve of his shirt.  

Eddie Munson had turned 16 three days before you. You knew because you were the only February birthdays in Mrs. Prescott’s third grade class and your mom had brought in double the cupcakes on your birthday and Eddie had handed them out with you. When you’d walked down to the office and specials classrooms he’d gone with you and the two of you had giggled about getting to skip math that day.  

“Did you get the invitation to my birthday party?” You had asked as you made your way back through the halls. Music was next and you didn’t want to miss it, even if your teacher was weird. “I’m gonna have a bowling party.”  

“My uncle’s not sure if he works that day.” Eddie had gotten it, the crisp white envelope sitting in his backpack at the end of the school day. Mrs. Prescott had been teaching cursive since January and you had written out Eddie’s name in neat, looping letters. It was the first birthday he’d been invited to that school year.  

“My mom could pick you up.” You suggested, pausing in the hallway. “Oh! We could have two cakes!”  

“Two cakes?” Eddie looked completely bewildered by the suggestion, “what for?” 

“Me and you.” You bumped your hip against his and smiled when icing from his cupcake smeared on his nose, “we can have a joint birthday!” 

There was an extra cupcake in your locker right now, waiting for you to work up the nerve that you’d sworn you would every February since sixth grade and give it to Eddie during lunch. He subconsciously pushed up the ¾ sleeve and itched his arm over the tattoo, giving you a better look at what you knew was there…a soul mark to match your own.  

“Did you get it?” Your best friend dropped into the seat in front of you and turned to look at you eagerly. Lizzie’d gotten hers at the beginning of January, the first of your friends to get a soul mark. She’d gotten a bumblebee on her wrist, much smaller and more delicate than yours. More immediately noticeable as well, though you weren’t sure you really wanted yours to be on display. Eddie wasn’t paying attention, or if he was he did a good job of looking disinterested.  

“Yeah, I’ll show you after class.” You promised.  

You weren’t entirely sure that you’d spoken to Eddie since third grade. You always wanted to talk to him, thought about it after the talent show in middle school when Corroded Coffin preformed a Black Sabbath song you’d never heard of. Your mom was on the PTL that year and went to bat for Eddie (after you’d insisted that he was your friend)  with the other moms who thought the music was satanic and disgusting. It wasn’t a stretch to say you had a crush on him. It wasn’t like you were popular by any means, if anything you were skating just below the surface, invisible to most people and happy with that status. Eddie liked the attention, you thought sometimes, he liked everybody looking at him, even if it was because he was a social pariah.  

But Eddie was...Eddie and you just weren’t sure you stacked up. You didn’t have a cool taste in music, you didn’t dress edgy, you’d never played Dungeons & Dragons (though you knew how, in case the moment ever presented itself and you had the chance to talk to Eddie again). You weren’t interesting enough for him, you’d decided that long before you knew he was your soulmate, when it was still just a meaningless crush that you harbored.  

“Where is it?” Lizzie was still pressing for a sneak peek but there was no way you were going to pull your sleeve up and show her when your soulmate in question was sitting right beside you.  

“I’ll show you after class,” you repeated, stealing a glance at Eddie as he rubbed at his arm again. You could feel the slight tingling across the inside of your elbow and forearm, as if goosebumps had erupted across your skin. As hard as it was to concentrate on math, you tried desperately to ignore the feeling on your arm, too afraid to itch your freshly visible tattoo for fear that Eddie might notice.  

After class felt like it would never happen, your knee bobbing nervously under the desk as the minutes ticked on. You weren’t sure how long you had zoned out for but one minute you were listening to the teacher talking over linear equations and the next you were envisioning what it might be like if Eddie knew that you were sitting there beside him with the same tattoo.  

Would he kiss you? You were pretty sure you’d give just about anything to kiss him. You’d spent plenty of time thinking about the soft fullness of his lips and how pretty he looked when he smiled and how much you wanted to run your fingers through his hair and sit on his lap and make out with him until you were short of breath.  

“You okay?” 

You turned to the side, looking at Eddie like a deer caught in headlights. The bell for the end of class had rung and you had jumped practically out of your seat when the sound jostled you out of your daydream. Eddie was looking at you with all the concern in the world while Lizzie tapped your desk with her knuckles. 

“Lets go,” either she hadn’t seen your jump scare moment or she was so used to you fazing out in class that she wasn’t bothered in the slightest, more so, she was eager to see this tattoo and wouldn’t stop bugging you until you showed her.  

“Uh, yeah, okay,” you still felt dazed as you stood up, Eddie standing up at the same time, retrieving your backpack off the floor and holding it out for you. “Thanks, I’m okay.” You promised, taking the bag, your fingers brushing against his.  

A soft jolt, like the after effect of an electric shock, ran up your arm. A warm sensation surged through you and you pulled your hand back quickly, avoiding eye contact as you heard Eddie call your name. If you turned around and looked at him you were liable to tell him your secret, that he was your soulmate.  

You couldn’t though. You couldn’t do that to him. People like Eddie moved to New York City and played gigs at CBGB’s and had gorgeous groupies hanging all over them. They didn’t stay in Hawkins, saddled to some starry-eyed kid who shared a birthday month and a tattoo with them.  

Lizzie pulled you down the hallway and into the bathroom, pushing the stall doors open to make sure no one else was in there with you. While she made a final inspection you dropped your bag to the floor and pushed off your jacket so you could take your shirt off for her to see the tattoo.  

The two headed calf looked back at you from the dingy mirror on the wall, half obscured by Lizzie’s head as she inspected the tattoo. “Weird.” She mused, “I don’t get it.” 

“Who knows, it’s just a cow.” As much as you loved Lizzie and as close as you were, there were things you’d never share with her. Like favorite poems about conjoined cows.  

“With two heads. Figures you’d get some weirdo as your soulmate.”  

“You don’t know that,” you sounded more offended than someone who’d just gotten their soul mark that morning and had little to no way of knowing who it belonged to.  

Lizzie didn’t seem to notice though, “I thought it’d be something cool.”  

You rolled your eyes. Who was she to comment on the ‘coolness’ of your tattoo? A bumblebee was hardly ‘cool’. It was just a bumblebee. There wasn’t even any originality in it. You shrugged your shoulders before you could say anything you regretted and grabbed your backpack. Lizzie had cut into your time to grab books and you really didn’t want to be late to class. Nor did you want to continue any conversation with her that would include making fun of the tattoo you were so fond of.  

- 

The bell for lunch sent your stomach back into a spiral. You’d gone through Spanish and Science without Eddie being physically beside you, though he’d taken up plenty of space in your mind. It was in the middle of biology that you decided you were going to finally, actually, go through with the plan that you came up with every year on your birthday. You were going to get the confetti cake cupcake from your locker and you were going to broach the Hellfire table and you were going to give him the cupcake. It was a little late for his birthday but you didn’t think he’d care either way.  

But now you were staring at the tupperware container with the cupcake in it and feeling self conscious about giving it to him. What if he thought it was stupid? What if he made fun of you? That one seemed unlikely. You’d known him since kindergarten technically and you’d never known him to be mean.  

Deep breath in, you reminded yourself, you could do this. Even if he didn’t know it yet, you were technically destined to be together, in all the universe no one would ever love you as much or understand you as deeply as Eddie Munson, so surely he’d accept a cupcake. Even if he didn’t know yet, he had felt the same jolt as you. You knew he did because when you looked back into the math class he was staring at his hand like it’d caught fire.  

“Happy birthday,” you announced, stopping beside his seat and holding the Tupperware out to him. He was in the middle of a heated music debate with one of the other guys you recognized from the talent show. Eddie’s head whipped around so fast you half expected it to turn all the way like an owl. It was his turn to look like a deer in headlights, spooked and confused all at once.  

“What?” His mouth was slightly agape as he stared up at you, eyes practically sparkling as he put two and two together. “A present? For me?” The boyish wit and charm returned in full force like a sucker punch to your heart as he placed his hands over yours and pulled the Tupperware toward him, “why, I am just beside myself,” his voice was high-pitched, his accent a caricature of a southern belle. Still, that familiar gleam in his eye couldn’t be missed as he opened the lid and looked down into the container, a cupcake (the top a little mashed in) with rainbow jimmies.  

“My mom made them for my birthday,” you explained, “I figured, since it was just your birthday too...” As you spoke you crossed your arms in front of yourself, tucking your hand against your forearm and itching at the tattoo as inconspicuously as possible.  

The playfulness that had been in Eddie’s eyes a moment ago flickered away, another emotion, something like surprise mixed with happiness, took its place. The boy you’d known to always have something to say, said nothing. He just stared at the cupcake, almost transfixed, tongue darting out to wet his lips.  

“It’s confetti...well it’s vanilla but you know, with jimmies baked in.” You further explained, unsure what to do with an Eddie that wasn’t loud and goofy and theatrical.  

Finally Eddie looked back up at you, “thank you, I uh...thank you.” 

“Yeah, hope you like it. I uh,” you looked back toward your usual table, Lizzie already sitting down with her lunch, “I have to go eat.” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” 

You turned around and walked back to your table as quickly as possible, trying to breath in and out to stop the warm throbbing in your side. You’d read once that ignoring the tattoo, if you were near the person that was your soulmate, could lead to eventual pain in the area of your soul mark. You almost wondered if it was starting already. A quick glance back to the table and Eddie was eating the cupcake, some icing smudged in the corner of his mouth. When he put the tupperware down for a second and itched at his arm you thought for a split second about walking right back over and kissing him and seeing what would happen.  

But then Lizzie called your name and you were pulled back into reality. 

-

-June 1983-

It was the end of the school year when Eddie found his soulmate. The two-headed calf tattoo on the inside of his forearm and elbow was one he’d spent hours staring at since it first showed up in February. He’d read the poem for the first time in seventh grade, leaning over the back of your chair in the library with his head on your shoulder and his cheek pressed against yours.  

He remembered the afternoon perfectly, as if he had a television in his brain and he was watching a rerun of an episode of his life. Or at least the highlight reel.  

You were waiting for your mom (who was always nice but also always late) working on your english homework, when Eddie came in. He’d been on the run from the same basketball playing future sociopaths that still tormented him now, at the end of junior year. The library doors looked like the gateway heaven, or at least that’s what he told you later on when he recounted what had brought him into your personal space (literally, you were convinced that Eddie lacked spacial awareness along with a few other things that probably should have made him less endearing).  

But the library doors, like a gateway to heaven glowing at the top of the ramp to the second floor. He booked it, his old converse squeaking in protest, and entered the room with a flourish only Eddie Munson could harness.  

“Holy shit!” He’d been laid up against the door trying to catch his breath when he saw you. It wasn’t the first time he had talked to you since third grade but every time left butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He pushed off the wooden door, heading straight for your chair. He pressed his hands down on the back rung and crouched down, leaning over you and placing his chin on your shoulder.  

You’d seen him come in, heard him call your name when he saw you, so you didn’t jump when you felt him practically draping himself over you. By seventh grade you were more than used to Eddie and his antics.  

“What’re you doing?”  

“Homework.” You replied, not turning your head for fear that you’d be in a predicament that you both wanted to be in and wanted to avoid. You imagined all those trashy romance novels you smuggled from your mom’s room; the main characters catching each other off guard so one could kiss the other.  

Eddie groaned, stumbling away from you as if you’d shoved him, practically tripping over the table as he threw himself into the chair beside you. His elbow collided with the tabletop and he rested his head against his palm, “boring!” He exclaimed, drawing out the word.  

“It’s not boring Eddie,” you insisted as he took the poetry book from you. The English assignment had been fairly cut and dry, discussing the meaning of a favorite poem.  

“What poem is this?” He asked, reading the one that you highlighted. There were notes in the margins, you annotated what you could and Eddie got that stupid little grin on his face as he read your handwriting. It had gotten smaller since third grade, neater too.  

“The two-headed calf.”  

On your sixteenth birthday Eddie had sat beside you in class, hopefully when Lizzie mentioned the tattoo but you wouldn’t say anything about it. He wanted to demand that you show him, wherever it was, because he’d been thinking of you for the last three days and he desperately wanted to know if it was you. It had to be you, didn’t it? But did you even remember?  

It was June and it was hotter than usual and Lizzie, who lived a few trailers away from his humble abode, had invited you over to sun bath. (“I need to be tan for summer.” She had insisted) You had walked passed his place and he was outside smoking and you stopped.  

Eddie knew it wasn’t unusual that you did, you’d always been nice to him. You’d always been nice to everyone but that didn’t stop the thudding in his heart every time you looked his way, it was like winning the lottery when he hadn’t even entered. Normal people didn’t get so lucky.  

“Hey, Eddie.” You say his name like you’re always happy to see him and for the briefest second Eddie imagines that it’s him you’re coming to see and not Lizzie. That you’d sit on the stoop with him, kiss his cheek so gently it’d turn up to his ears, and maybe finish the joint he’s smoking. You’d listen to him talk about D&D and when you talked about the books you liked he’d understand every word.  

“Ah,” he smiled, “tell me fair maiden, what brings you to this hobbit hole?”  

“Aren’t hobbit holes meant to be clean?” You teased, kicking an empty can of beer that had fallen out of the trash cans on the edge of Eddie’s sorry excuse of a lawn.  

He felt his heart swell at the comment and suddenly he wished he could usher you inside and spend the whole rest of the afternoon talking about Tolkien with you. “You know your hobbits then.” 

You opened the tote bag hanging off your shoulder and pulled the slightly worn copy of The Hobbit up far enough that Eddie could see it, pressing your lips together as if you were fighting off a smile but smiling anyway. “I was uh,” you dropped the book back into your bag and nervously shifted your weight as you stood there a few feet from him, wondering if he would think you were stupid if you told him, “I was thinking about you the other day.”  

Eddie tried to keep whatever composure he was still clinging too, “well, I can’t blame you, there’s a lot to think about.”  

You laughed and nodded as if you agreed with him, “I was wondering how many times you’ve read the hobbit and trying to decide if I was anywhere near as close.”  

“At least ten,” he admitted, “I’ve lost count.”  

You didn’t mention that you imagined him sitting there with you in your room, the two of you reading together. That you thought about how he’s jump up on the bed and perform every song that Tolkien had penned, shouting out the goblin song so loud he no doubt disturbed all the neighbors. “I have the movie…I mean, when I’m done rereading I’m gonna watch the movie again. We should-“ 

“Oh my god!” Lizzie shouted, “of course you’re over here!”  

Eddie perked up at the comment, his mind racing at what she could’ve meant. Of course, the words replayed in his mind, you’re over here. When he looked up at you, you were looking at Lizzie and for the first time he realized he could see your soul mark, the grayish-black drawing etched on your skin on full display for him as you stood there apologizing for stopping to talk, it was the same as his and he realized then that he’d been holding a hand over his arm this whole time. The dull ache in his arm felt warm, like a soft fire had spread from his fingers all the way up his shoulder and down to his heart.  

He should’ve told you right then, as you turned back to him and adjusted the strap of your bag. He should’ve grabbed you and told you that you were his soulmate and wasn’t that perfect because he was so in love with you anyway, but he just smiled awkwardly as you apologized for Lizzie.  

“I was saying,” you were saying something and Eddie had to force himself to pay attention to anything other than the itch, “we should watch the hobbit together. You could come over and we could have pizza and stuff. Are you still reigning champion of Oreo stacks?”  

Eddie was pretty sure he was going to explode. Or that lightening was going to come down from the sky and strike him where he stood. “No one’s taken the crown yet.” He replied.  

Lizzie called your name again, having walked away and suddenly realized you weren’t beside her. You bit your bottom lip, looking apologetic and incredibly beautiful all at once. Blow off Lizzie and her dumb obsession with being tan, Eddie wanted to say, come inside and we’ll watch the hobbit now. He would watch whatever you wanted, name it and he’d get it.  

“I’ll see you later Eddie,” you waved, his name like honey dripping from your lips. When you reached Lizzie she said something, looking back over her shoulder at him and he heard you giggle. It had his cheeks flushing to his ears and he quickly swatted at them, as if he could tamper down the feeling in his chest.  

You’d been so close, just feet from him, just lingering there and he could see your tattoo. He knew, he’d known since the morning the two headed calf appeared on his arm that it was you. There was no one else it could be and how convenient because he’d been in love with you since you made him a cookies and cream birthday cake in third grade and made everyone at your party include him when they sang ‘Happy Birthday’. He swallowed the lump in his throat, thinking about it. If he told you, that you were his soulmate, that out of everyone in the entire universe you’d been saddled with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, would you be pissed? Would be fake nice about it? Tell him that was good and you didn’t mind while you just about died inside at the news? No, you couldn’t know. He wouldn’t tell you.  

-

-December 1984-

You took another deep breath as you stood outside the door of Eddie Munson’s trailer. You hadn’t seen him since graduation in June but you’d spent more time with him on your mind than not. New York had never been your first choice for college but when you’d been accepted to NYU it was like all you could think about was some parallel world where you and Eddie graduated and moved to a shitty loft and he played gigs in the city with his band and you blew off classes to sleep in with him.  

But you were alone in New York and Eddie was repeating senior year at Hawkins and you thought about him every day and collected a million stories that you hoped would impress him. And right now, two weeks before Christmas, you were standing outside his trailer because you had gained enough perspective to decide that (if you could get your brain to cooperate long enough) you were going to tell Eddie that you were his soulmate.  

You still weren’t cool enough for him but he’d have to get used to that bit cause not seeing him every day made you feel like you were going to go insane.  

He’d called out that he was coming five minutes ago when you first knocked on the door and it’d been followed with a series of loud curses and what sounded like furniture falling over. You thought about knocking again when the door swung open, cheap wood slamming against the wall of the trail and Eddie was staring at you looking very much like he’d just woken up. 

“Hey, sorry I didn’t like...call first or something. I uh, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to but I brought snacks and I figured we never watched The Hobbit like we said we would.” You rattled off your reason for being at his house as quickly as possible as he started at you with wide eyes. You weren’t even sure he remembered that conversation.  

“Come in,” He unlatched the screen door and pushed it open, letting you in passed him. He looked a little bewildered by your presence but didn’t question it. Afterall, who was he to argue when you willing were choosing to spend time with him.  

Eddie’s tattoo was on full display in his short sleeve Black Sabbath shirt and you knew that when you took your jacket off, he would see yours too. But you had come over here with a plan and you were (somewhat) determined to see it through. You set down your tote bag on the coffee table, taking out the package of oreos, two jiffypops, The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.  

“Sorry to like, force you to hang out with me.” You apologized, turning back to look at Eddie as his hand dropped to his arm so he could itch at the tattoo.  

A deep frown, something more akin to a comical pout, crossed Eddie’s face as he shook his head. “You could probably force me to do anything.” He said and then his eyes went wide, “I mean...uh, it’s fine. No problem.” 

“I was thinking about you-” 

“You were?” 

“I uh...yeah,” you nodded, “I didn’t say anything before graduation but...” You felt like you were moving in slow motion, like maybe you should’ve played some kind of music you were taking so long to unzip your jacket. Eddie was still looking confused, licking his lips nervously and rubbing at his cheek as your coat came off. “Ta-da!” you held your arm out awkwardly so he could see the matching tattoo on your arm.  

A slow smile spread across his face, cheeks turning red up to his ears as he stared down at the tattoo and then, suddenly, he jumped. You stumbled backward a little, startled. Eddie grabbed your arm though it was gentle, “I knew it!” He exclaimed, “I fucking knew it! I said to myself, Eddie, it’s gotta be them. The minute I saw it I knew.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Why didn’t I say anything? Why didn’t you say anything?” He replied.  

You bit down on your bottom lip to stop from smiling at him, “I kinda thought you’d be disappointed...” you admitted. “I mean, you’re really fucking cool-” 

He pressed his free hand to his heart, “ugh, flattery. The way to my heart.” 

“I’m being serious Eddie. I knew it was you and I wanted to tell you so many times I just...I chickened out, I don’t know. I mean, I...tattoo or not, I love you. I really really love you and I went all the way to New York and the whole time I was there I just kept thinking, I wish Eddie was here. I wish we could share this. And I should’ve said something sooner I just...I thought you wouldn’t want to find out that it was me.” You replied.  

“Are you kidding?” He asked, “like seriously, are you joking right now?” Eddie felt like he was being forced through a round of mental gymnastics, trying to decipher how anyone at all, let alone you, could think that he was the catch, all while figuring out what exactly it meant that you were so nervous. It wasn’t bad, he had already determined that there was nothing about this situation (the being soulmates, that was) that you seemed disappointed or upset about. “God!” He let go of you finally as he spun away, hands going to his hair as if he was trying to pull it out. “Oh my god! It’s just...I’ve just...god!” 

“You said that.” You pointed out, tucking your arms in to cross infront of you. The moment you did, Eddie was back to grabbing your arm, his touch warm, the way it had been the morning of your sixteenth birthday. It almost felt like you had some kind of weight holding you down.  

“Can I just...can I kiss you?” He asked, desperation evident in his voice. His heart was beating erratically, or at least he felt like it had to be. He was sure that his brain wasn’t processing any of this and half expected to wake up in some dream-state where Wayne told him that he was still that loser who hasn’t graduated.  

The kiss was...every moment of anticipation since the day of your bowling party in third grade. It was every smile that you gave him in the hallway, the time in fifth grade when you stuck your tongue out at him after the teacher told you to be quiet in line, the day he found you in the library in seventh grade. It was cupcakes in lockers on birthdays and that anonymous Valentine's card that he was sure was just a malicious joke but that he kept in his nightstand just in case it was real. It was the time in sixth grade when you told him his taste in music was cool. It was every wave in the hallway or the lunch room, it was a hall pass to the bathroom just so he could see you in art class as he passed by.  

The kiss felt like warmth spreading throughout your entire body. The kind of warmth that consumed you after you’d bundled up for a cold winter morning walk to school only to have Eddie slow his van to a halt and offer you a ride. The kind of warmth that settled on your cheeks when he told you he liked the poetry you read or that he’d used his allowance money to buy that book by Laura Gilpin. It was the kind of warmth you got from alcohol when your dormmate took you to CBGB’s for the first time and you pretended all night that it was Corroded Coffin on the stage.  

His held your face in his hands, fingers calloused from the guitar brushing against your jaw and neck. You wanted to pull him closer but you weren’t sure that was physically possible. He was pressed against you already and your hands were twisting wrinkles into his Black Sabbath shirt. You’d never kissed anyone before and you weren’t entirely sure you were doing a great job but he wasn’t complaining.  

When you finally felt yourself running out of air, you pulled away. It felt like a chore to detach yourself, even for a moment. “How’d you know?” You asked, Eddie’s comment from earlier popping into your head. He said he had known and he said it with such assuredness you hardly doubted him.  

“It’s your favorite poem,” he replied, “how could I not know?” 

-

But tonight he is alive and in the north 

Field with his mother. It is a perfect 

Summer evening: the moon rising over 

The orchard, the wind in the grass. And  

As he stares into the sky, there are  

Twice as many stars as usual.  

-

Taglist: @teelagurl558 @truewdw1 @kenzi-woycehoski @bookfrog242 @milkiane

[loveluststerek]

Steddie Mpreg - No angst tho that’s the other post

Wayne is nights right? So he sees Eddie in passing every other day.

Suddenly the Harrington kid is leaving Eddie’s bedroom in the morning as they pass by each other in the kitchen. Huh. Good for Eddie.

A couple of days later, Eddie’s building a wardrobe in the living room. “Your boy moving in or what?” Wayne questions, seeing polo shirts stacked in a neat pile next to Eddie on the floor.

Eddie doesn’t look up from the instructions, but does remove the screwdriver from his mouth. “Yeah, and my girl.” Girl? That’s new. But good for him. Wayne goes to bed.

A couple of weeks pass, and he sees Eddie dragging his amps out of his room, and dragging a second hand crib into his room. He decides to just. Not ask. He literally thinks Eddie has it to store his guitar. He’s seen him read bedtime stories to it, and tuck it in so. It doesn’t really surprise him.

He’s just gotten home, it’s 4am in the morning. All the lights are off so Eddie must not be home. The government funded apartment is quiet. Wayne makes himself a cup of tea, and settles in his government funded lazy boy, he’s just dropping off when Eddie slams the door open, carrying a car seat with a little pink bundle in. Eddie meets his sleepy gaze and whispers, “it’s ok, she’s not mine”. Before continuing into his room. Wayne looks at his cooling tea and convinces himself he must be dreaming. Steve being helped in by the Robin girl must of been a dream too.

Eddie wakes up that night, checking himself as he went to yell, looking over at the slumbering newborn and Steve who’s out cold and exhausted.

“Oh my god I forgot to tell Wayne.” He silently freaks out to himself, gripping his hair. How did he forget to tell his uncle that he’s taken on Billy’s spawn. Fuck.