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momotonescreaming · 11 months ago

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Part One

“Jeff. Jeffers.” Eddie starts, as soon as he opens the door to Jeff’s bedroom, ignoring the way it slams into the wall with the force of it. “I am about to lose my shit.”

“So a normal Saturday, then?” Jeff replies, looking up from the music magazine he’s flipping through, not moving from where he’s reclined across his bed.

Navy blue comforter, pale grey sheets, tucked in tight. His mother’s influence, Eddie knows. Jeff’s mom is a good woman, is cool with the band, and the metal, and the DnD — but she’s a total neat freak. So Jeff makes his bed perfectly everyday, so she won’t barge into his room and do it for him. He bought himself a Motorhead poster from a record store in Bloomington once, and his mom framed it.

So there was Eddie’s room, with all his posters and banners haphazardly tacked to the walls and stuck to the mirror; and then there was Jeff’s, with his carefully curated selection of framed posters. Not very metal, Eddie thought. Jeff always said that if that’s what it took for his mom to accept to metal music? He’d take it.

Eddie shuts the door behind him, making sure it closes with a swift kick of his socked foot, before turning back to his best friend.

“Worse than normal, Jeffy-boy.” Eddie says, emphasising with his hands before gripping them tightly. “I bumped into Henderson at Melvalds this morning and he would not shut the fuck up about Harrington the entire time he trapped me in conversation.”

“Ah,” Jeff simply replies, closing his magazine and placing it off to the side, out of the way. “So it’s a Harrington breakdown today? I’ll clear my schedule.”

“Jeff,” Eddie says, trying to sound stern with all the emphasis on the word, but he’s smiling. Watches as Jeff pats an empty spot on the mattress next to him. He rolls his eyes, playing it up, before flopping face first onto the bed beside Jeff. He groans into the mattress, a long, drawn out sound, and can hear Jeff chuckling at the sound of it. “Please.”

Jeff pats his shoulder comfortingly, hand warm and steady, before Eddie rolls over. Stays laying down, and looks up at the swirly patterns of Jeff’s popcorn ceiling.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Jeff laughs, before turning to look down at Eddie. “So. Harrington.”

Eddie groans again, ignoring the sound of Jeff’s laughter. “I made the mistake of asking Henderson what he was doing later — trying to make fucking small talk, or something — and apparently our little sheepie is hanging out with Steve Harrington.”

“Wait,” Jeff says with a start, his brows furrowing. “Harrington hangs out with freshman nerds? Willingly? And he knows Dustin?”

“Fucking apparently,” Eddie exclaims, throwing his hands up into the air and letting them fall back down onto the mattress with a thump. “Henderson would not shut up about how cool it was Steve was hanging out with him, like he was trying to brag about it to me. Asking me if I fucking knew Steve Harrington like, hello? I live in Hawkins, everyone knows who Harrington is.”

“I was gonna ask if he was lying,” Jeff starts, bringing his hand up to his jaw to absently press and pick at his skin as he thinks. “But you’d think he’s smart enough to lie about something believable, at the very least.”

“He’s definitely lying,” Eddie replies, sighing, letting all the air exit his lungs in one slow exhale. “Because I cannot handle it being the truth. Harrington being hot, rich, charming, and nice to nerds like us? No way.”

“I was wondering when the crush was going to make it’s appearance,” Jeff replies, finally letting himself flop down beside Eddie. Rumpling his nicely made sheets, not caring as his abandoned magazine falls to the floor.

“Oh it’s been here the whole time Jeffothy,” Eddie says, stretching his legs out before letting them relax again. Picking at the navy blue fabric beneath him. “As soon as Dustin said Harrington’s name I felt my traitorous heart speed up.”

Eddie wasn’t lying and he a little felt ridiculous about it. Like some leading lady in a rom-com, the second the words Steve Harrington left Henderson’s mouth he felt his heart clench, his pulse quicken, and a horrid combo of shame and wanting curl around his stomach. His crush on Steve was always there, simmering in the recesses of his mind like the burning embers of a fire. Just waiting for something to come along and set it alight.

“And that’s the main reason you’re losing your shit?”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, sounding a little defeated, before perking himself up and sitting up, the mattress bouncing beneath him. Pushing those thoughts to the side. Thoughts of Steve Harrington and his amazing hair. His charming smile and warm eyes. Thoughts about him leaning in towards Eddie as they make conversation, so much Eddie can smell his cologne, his shampoo. And Steve will ask him questions about DnD, and actually sound interested about what Eddie would say back. Shaking his head a little, Eddie forces himself to not get lost in the fantasy. “But enough about me, Sir Jeffington the Just. Any progress with Chrissy?”

Jeff just snorts, looking up at Eddie. “You say that like there’s progress to be had.”

“Come on,” Eddie starts, nudging Jeff’s side. “There’s gotta be something.”

“Not really,” He replies, taking a deep breath. “I stare at her in the halls at school like a lovesick fool and I don’t think she even knows who I am. There’s no way one of the cheerleaders knows my name.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Eddie replies, pushing himself up off of Jeff’s bed and heads over to his desk, pushed up under the window. He had started to feel that itch under his skin, the twitching of his fingers, that feeling that he just couldn’t sit still anymore. So he moves to the desk, seats himself on Jeff’s nice office chair with the wheels, and fidgets with the mini’s he has scattered on the desk. “You’re hot and charming as hell, at least one of them has gotta know your name.”

“Not Chrissy though,” Jeff says, self-deprecating, pushing his socked foot along the carpet from where it hangs off the bed, gathering static. “Come on.”

Eddie sighs, long and drawn out and dramatic — turning into more of a groan at the end. They had done this song and dance before, Eddie hyping Jeff up, and his best friend responding with self deprecation. Jeff was a guy who was confident in himself, in his hobbies and interests — but when it came to love, he faltered.

Eddie could understand. They were both freaks who’ve never dated anyone, with crushes on two of the most popular teens in Hawkins. Peak conformists. It was never gonna happen but Eddie wanted.

“Fine.” He concedes. “We’re both pathetic, happy now?”

“Thrilled,” Jeff snorts, before sobering. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up, y’know? She’s with Jason and she’s not about to dump him to start looking my way.“

“I know,” Eddie replies, voice also sobering, so there’s something quieter about it now. He gently spins on the chair, pushing himself back and forth with his feet. Trying not to fidget too much, trying not to pick and rip at his nails. “I’m just trying to live vicariously through you a little because I am not handling my conversation with Henderson well. Chrissy just seems one step closer to us than Harrington. At least she’s still at Hawkins High and we actually see her on the regular. But what if Henderson is telling the truth and Steve like, picks him up from Hellfire? Leaning on the door frame, swinging his keys around his fingers, raising an eyebrow all sexy-like. Looking at me from across the room.”

“You think Henderson knows Chrissy as well?” Jeff jokes, sitting up and crossing a leg underneath himself. “Think he could put in a good word?”

Eddie snorts, rotating one of Jeff’s minis between his hands. “Definitely. That nerd is slowly collecting all the sexy jocks in Hawkins, just for us.”

There’s a moment of silence, slowly thickening in the air between them before Jeff sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “What would I even say to her? Hey Chrissy, I’m the DnD freak who thinks you’re super hot. I definitely haven’t started daydreaming about going to basketball games just so I can watch you cheer, wanna go out?”

“Oh my God, Jeff,” Eddie laughs, wiggling his legs, unable to contain himself.

“I know,” Jeff exhales with a laugh.

“When I asked if there was any progress on the Chrissy front,” Eddie says, laughing. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Because it’s embarrassing! I’m so down bad it’s ridiculous.”

“This is a safe space, Jeffrey,” Eddie adds, nodding sagely. “I told you about how I started selling after games last year just so I could have an excuse to watch Harrington play. Did you see his thighs? Woof.”

“I did not see his thighs because I was busy lying to the others about how you were there because it was prime selling time, and you needed the extra cash to help Wayne,” Jeff adds, laughing., voice dropping into something more coy. Teasing. “And you definitely weren’t there because you were drooling over the idea of Harrington crushing your head in between his thick, sweaty, thighs.”

“As is my right, Jeff!” Eddie exclaims, feeling a little lighter, giddier, electric. A buzzing under his skin. Eddie launches himself off of the chair and towards Jeff — wrapping his arms around his waist and laughing all the while. Sending them both crashing into the mattress, rumpling Jeff’s neatly made bed even further. His face is pressed into Jeff’s chest, fabric of his Black Sabbath shirt soft against Eddie’s skin.

It always makes him feel better, talking about this sort of stuff with Jeff, letting it out, instead of holding it in. Eddie can feel Jeff laughing, his chest shaking underneath him as he wrestles Eddie off. Not hard enough to hurt.

He rolls off of Jeff, letting go of his waist, laughing as Jeff softly kicks him in the leg.

“I really can’t blame you though,” Jeff admits, looking over at Eddie. “Chrissy in that cheerleader skirt of hers is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s all about the thighs, I told you!” Eddie exclaims, laughing as he playfully shoves at Jeff again. Gripping the sleeves of his shirt, gently pushing and pulling him. His best friend lets himself be moved, used to Eddie’s shenanigans by now. “You want to give her a thigh hickey so bad, don’t ya, Jeffrey? Or maybe it’s her ass? All perky and round from cheer.”

Eddie cackles as Jeff covers his face with his hands, groaning, and almost definitely flustered. He drags his hands down his face, drawing out the groan, before tuning to Eddie.

“I’m trying so hard not to get too gross about this, dude,” Jeff starts. “But you are not helping.”

“Nothing wrong with being a little gross with your friends,” Eddie says, slowly stopping his shoving at Jeff, moving his hand to gently pick at a stray thread. “I know you’re not, like, gonna be gross with her. I mean, unless she likes it.”

“Eddie!” Jeff exclaims, although he’s smiling, as he shoves his best friend off the bed.

Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

#Stranger Things #Eddie Munson #Jeff Stranger Things #Steve Harrington #Chrissy Cunningham #Steddie #Jeff/Chrissy #My Writing #I'm having so much fun writing eddie n jeff best friend shenanigans you have no idea #Teenage Dream

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alchemistc · 2 years ago

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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.

#steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #mike wheeler jumpscare #but actually he's not all that bad #steddie fic #eddie munson x steve harrington

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youarethedancingdean · 1 year ago

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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.

#steddieweek2023 #day seven: free space #i decided to go with whatever i want #steddie #fluff #eddie munson #steve harrington #late entry cause i was busy #my writing

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magniloquent-raven · 2 years ago

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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 💕

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #stranger things #a raven's writing desk

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remnostrum · 2 years ago

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some of my favorite things to see in steddie fics (or headcanons i personally have):

note: they don't all exist in the same universe

Steve being really good at one thing that nobody expects him to be good at.

Hard of hearing Steve

Eddie delving deeper into his artsy side, may it be drawing more specific portraits, doodling, painting D&D minis, or even tattooing.

Eddie having a hate boner for Steve Harrington pre-season 4, and proceeding to have a hate crush on him for the duration of Steve's time in high school.

Steve being close to Holly Wheeler because he's probably the most affectionate person in the Wheeler household every time he visits besides Karen.

In relation to the previous bullet, Steve generally being more affectionate (read: touch starved) with others because he grew up with barely any affection at all.

(not popular but something i want to see:) Eddie probably entertains some of the kids in the trailer park with stories because it's something he would've wanted as a kid.

Confident Steve flirting with Eddie, post-bisexual awakening. Additionally, Eddie being a flustered mess and not knowing what to do. Also known as, Eddie flirting up a storm and when Steve flirts back, he proceeds to stutter and trip over himself.

Eddie making time to learn about Steve's interests because Steve tries hard to learn his.

Hairdresser or Baker/Cook Steve! I think it's just neat to see him be good at something.

Eddie not being a music snob. Like, yes, he's a huge metalhead and he will always have strong opinions about what he thinks is the best, but he doesn't shun any other opinions because why should he? To each their own.

Eddie realizing that what he did to Lucas was a shitty thing when his basketball game and Hellfire Night landed on the same day and making it up to him.

Anytime Steve tries to play Dungeons & Dragons is my favorite.

Steve knowing he's bisexual long ago but never telling anyone until they find out on their own.

FAKE DATING AUs !! Also anything tagged with Idiots to Lovers.

Domestic steddie slow dancing in the kitchen, listening to love songs on the radio. Existing and not thinking too much.

Steve and Eddie getting high

Steve helping Eddie study for his finals. No, he's not as smart as Nancy Wheeler, but he tries to learn other ways for Eddie to remember what he needs to study.

Teacher Steve x Rockstar Eddie AUs are amazing. But besides the usual "I didn't know you were married to a rockstar, Mr. Harrington!" trope, I like the idea of the entire world finding out famous musician Eddie Munson bends to the will of a man who wears sweater vests to work unironically.

The fics where Steve is either a professor/teacher, a guidance counselor, or a child psychologist are all what I want in life.

Steve hanging out with Max and Dustin (specifically, but not limited to). The Party becoming overprotective of him because he's sacrificed too much for them.

STEVE AND JONATHAN FRIENDSHIP. I always see people talk about Jonathan and Eddie being weed buddies, but you guys need to see the purity of Steve and Jonathan finally being friends. I'd like to see them get over their differences and hang out unironically.

If it isn't obvious yet, I'm a sucker for any tropes that means everyone will be freaked out by Steve in any shape or form (his hobbies, his friends, etc.)

Eddie "dating" someone to make Steve jealous. (It is up to you whether or not Steve does something about it. For whump material, I like torturing myself by thinking that Steve would get jealous but doesn't do anything about it because he thinks he's not the better choice.)

FOR ANGST: any fic where Steve sacrificed too much of himself and Eddie being angry at the world yet waiting on Steve. Whether it be a coma fic or some other one where he gets a major injury, it's all good.

Time loop fics where Steve falls in love little by little but Eddie has been in love with him all throughout. Those moments where he shouldn't know that Steve is reliving the same day over and over, but with one look, Eddie can notice how different he still is despite wearing the same clothes as before.

And lastly, Steve obsessing over one specific detail about Eddie. (His lips, how he plays with his hair, his rings, maybe even something nsfw lmao, etc.) With how affectionate and clingy he really is as a boyfriend, I can only imagine he's the type of guy who latches onto one specific thing that he thinks is extremely cute (or a turn on) and can't get it out of his mind. Whenever he does something about it, Eddie is confused but lets him. It's like they have their own telepathic communication that understands what the other wants.

I'll probably add more to this list to keep track. But here's some of the things I absolutely love to see in steddie fics. Some of them are personal ideas and headcanons. I'm a sucker for self-sacrifice.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #i will do a recs list next i swear #i think it's long overdue #what do you guys wanna see from it specifically if ever tho #either way have my fave tropes i love them sm

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berenwrites · 1 year ago

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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

#stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie lives #stranger things #st:beyond-the-battle #fanfic #post season 4 #vampire eddie #hurt/comfort #vampire eddie munson #platonic stobin #psychic stuff #steve harrington has powers

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pop-pop-pop-popculture · 2 years ago

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I think it would have been so bloody neat if instead of killing the kids, Henry helped them escape and throughout season 4 we find out that some (not all!) of the kids who are now teenagers or even adults were the ones that Peter helped them escape.

Omfg, yessss! Like I've said a thousand times, the show should have only focused on Dr. Brenner and Hawkins National Laboratory. For instance, throughout the seasons, we find out more secrets Dr. Brenner (and I guess even the government) have been hiding, such as what happened in 1979 and the fact that quite a lot of kids were being held hostage and getting experimented on because they had a superpower of some sort (which, by the way, Jim told Dr. Brenner to his face in the investigation room in the season one finale). Another anon said it would have been cool if Max was/is 008, which I am totally on board with!, and, like many people on here think, 010 was/is Eddie, especially given some of the things he said to Chrissy in the woods.

Let's entertain this brilliant concept, shall we? Again, not every single kid will be a supporting character in the series, just a few.

005: Steve Harrington (because.. why not????)

006: Patrick McKinney

008: Max Mayfield (escaped in 1978)

009: Chrissy Cunningham

(a boy was casted for 009, but in this little change-up, let’s pretend it was a girl!)

010: Eddie Munson

Do you know how freaking cool that would have been?! Also, instead of helping them all escape, while I do like that concept, it could also have been set up to where only 005, 006, 009, and 010 escaped somehow and everyone else except for 011 were killed. Max was already long gone.

#ask #answered #2022 #pop culture #stranger things #netflix #television show #television #bonus: will byers was going to be 012

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eddies-ashtray · 2 years ago

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when your love language is acts of service and you’re also sort of a neat freak, so one day when you know eddie’s out for the day (probably screwing around with dustin somewhere), wayne let’s you in the trailer and you tidy eddie’s room for him.

he’s always complaining about how he wants it to be neat, but he just never gets to it or he gets distracted when he tries to clean up, so it just doesn’t work out.

you spend a couple hours folding clothes, throwing stuff in the laundry, making nice neat piles out of his books and magazines, organizing his cassettes and records, throwing out any garbage littered around the room, organizing everything in his drawers and his closet. you even organize all his DnD stuff. and when you feel like you’ve done a good job organizing everything and there’s nothing out of place left on the floors anymore, you vacuum and dust and make sure his mirrors are all clean.

and you’re tired after, but you don’t mind because you wanted to do this for him. he’s always surprising you with little things, like offering you drawer space, so he deserves to have someone do nice things for him as well.

you make sure that his bedroom door is closed before he comes home and you’re sitting in the living room when eddie opens the trailer door later in the evening, wayne having left for work shortly before eddie’s return.

he’s surprised and happy to see you there.

“hey, sweetheart, what’re you doin here?” he asks, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your cheek & then swaying you both back and forth together.

“ohh, nothin, just thought i’d come over nd surprise you with somethin’ is all.”

“yeah?” he asks excitedly, eyes sparkling.

“mm-hm,” you nod and then pull away from him and rush towards his bedroom.

“come, come, come!!”

and eddie follows you down the hallway, stopping in front of you as you reach for the handle.

“harrington’s not in there, is he?” Eddie jests.

“aw, shoot,” you say dramatically, “jig is up, steve!” you call over ur shoulder, opening the door now and rushing inside.

you stand in the middle of his clean room, all excited, spreading your arms wide and going, “ta-da!”

eddie stands in the doorway, looking around the room in slight shock.

“u did this?” he asks, stepping into the room finally, beginning to step closer to you.

“mm-hm!” you hum, and when he’s an arms length away from you, he pulls you to him and kisses you softly, both his hands holding your face. you go limp in his arms, sighing into the kiss.

he pulls away after a moment and you feel a little dazed, not having expected that reaction, and he swipes his thumb over your spit-slick bottom lip.

“thank you, baby...so kind and thoughtful,” he says, booping you on the nose. you scrunch it up as you look up at him, and then he’s grabbing your hand and asking you to show him around like it’s an entirely new room he’s never seen before and you laugh and give him a tour of his newly organized bedroom.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanons

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collecting-stories · 2 years ago

Text

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

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findafight · 2 years ago

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WAIT OKAY I just read your supernatural st au and AHHHHH now I need that one too holy shit token human Steve!! Token human Steve!!!

Even here everyone’s just like I love him he’s a neat little guy he’s literally thrown himself around and been mortally wounded for the party when he’s literally the only human and everyone’s just like - him!!!! Selkie Robin and how they find out they’re soulmates!! Aaahh!!!! And that final line…… I am obsessed putting in my little request for a full fic when you can, pretty please!!!

Anon you're spoiling meeeee I love you I love hearing from people who like my writing/ideas!! Original post

This one is definitely something that has high potential of me actually writing too. Because like, yeah. The Party is Marge Simpson "I just think they're neat" potato meme about Steve. He's so shaped.

This has a readmore because it's actually got two different mini scenes in it. Enjoy~~~ (also note I included a bit of another non kinky kinkmeme prompt about supernatural baby sitter Steve in this!)

I imagine a scene where Dustin, early fall of '85, is complaining to Lucas and Mike about another failed attempt to get Steve Officially (as he can't actually be Pack unless he KNOWS he's pack, ya feel? Like he IS their pack but also he doesn't know so not really but yes but no...) In their pack at lunch, and Eddie, who as mentioned is a vampire that feeds off energy and is therefore The Most Dramatic Bitch Ever, overhears and is like

"Steve? Steve Harrington is part of your Pack??"

And Dustin goes "well he would if he stopped being DENSE about it!!! We've been trying to tell him-"

"you've been trying to tell him" says Mike.

"-since before Christmas last year! But he keeps thinking we're-"

"you're-"

"-talking about DnD!!"

Eddie is just a little shocked his newest sheepies have been trying for nine months to tell Steve, King Steve, of all people, that his preppy human ass is such a firm part of their Pack that they haven't given up on telling him.

Lucas pipes up. "To be fair to Steve, he was concussed before Christmas last year, and then again this summer."

Dustin shakes his head. "Need to get the guy a helmet. Protect the braincells he has left."

"did he have any to begin with?"

"oh, can it, Mike." Lucas says. "At least he knows about Robin, now. So maybe you should ask her for help. He believed her!"

Ohhh? Eddie was curious, because he had heard certain...rumours, about a Robin and her possible tie to Steve Harrington.

Dustin scoffs. "Okay, yeah, but she's his literal actual soulmate who he still refuses to date, and she transformed in front of him. But I don't want to freak him out. A seal is one thing, a wolf is another!"

"Dustin, you're basically a dachshund."

"fuck right off"

Eddie waves his hands in front of them. "Wait wait wait. Are you talking about Robin Buckley? The selkie in the marching band with Gareth?" The sheepies nod. "You're saying Steve Harrington, former captain of laundry basket sport-"

"actually pretty sure he wasn't ever basketball captain, just swim team-"

"-former Head Jock, is dorky little Robin Buckley's soulmate? Like full on, Selkie coat magic woo woo, Soulmate?"

They all nod, but it's Lucas who speaks. "Yeah. They worked together over the summer. Became, like, inseparable. She told him in August sometime I think."

Eddie does not know how to process that.

-----

ALSO!!!

I imagine Steves parents sitting him down, after his nineteenth birthday (which I headcanon as April first) and very carefully explaining to him that Monsters Are Real.

And Steve sitting there, nearly eight months into knowing that, trying to pretend he doesn't. Pretending that since Robin told him she was a Selkie and the Party told him about being werewolves, he'd sort of, kind of, become any supernatural beings' go to babysitter. Sort of.

It started with a litter of pups he stumbled across in the woods who seemed really friendly for being abandoned in the woods and welcomed the water he brought them and the ear scritches he gave, that he didn't even realize were werewolf children until a couple came crashing through the trees frantically and stopped to watch as he helped a puppy get a leaf off its paw. And the pups are waggled over to the woman and the man looked at Steve with a twitchy nose and then Steve realized they were scenting him because ohhhh. Werewolves.

And Steve went "uh. I think they forgot how to change back? Good luck?" And left. Because what else was he going to do?

So it became a thing. Little magical creatures were told that if all else fails, Steve Harrington will make sure you're safe and looked after until your parents could get to them. He amassed a Rolodex of the contact info near-human folk of Hawkins, and a reputation for being a damn good babysitter. And also somehow having a gaggle of kids around him whenever he went to the park.

So his parents go on and on about things Steve already knows about and he's wondering why they're telling him all of it and also how they know and then they mention how these things are dangerous. How they must be removed. Destroyed. Killed.

Because that's what Harringtons do, they hunt monsters in the night and keep the good, normal, human folks of america safe.

And Steve, who knows that there are supernatural creatures in Hawkins; who knows what actual monsters in Hawkins look like and has hit them with a spiked bat and an axe; who can't go three blocks before some pup or fae or gnome or whatever decides to follow him like a duckling; who little lost kids of all shapes and sizes flock to in order to get back home; sits there and listens as his parents tell him how to kill them. How to salt and burn the remains.

He grips the edge of the table with white knuckles and purposefully evens his breath. He will not betray The Party, or Robin, or any of the families who have found a safe haven in Hawkins to live their lives peacefully. And isn't it ironic, that the place the Harringtons supposedly live, the place they are barely in because of legitimate business and the family business takes them across the country, is a hotbed for supernatural activity. It happened right under their noses, and their only son and heir was at the centre of it. The Human in a Pack of werewolves, platonic soulmate to a Selkie, potential.... something to a vampire, babysitter of all the little creatures of the county.

So Steve tries to make a plan. He can't let his parents know that Hawkins is anything but a quiet human town, but he can't let them keep hurting innocents either. It's either a long con of taking up his family mantle and changing things from inside, manipulating the system like he did in highschool to his whims, or dismantling it loudly and more dramatically which could back fire.

Either way, as soon as his parents leave again (for human related business), he takes the family Grimoire, his birthright, and calls an All Party Meeting.

He slams the tome onto the table and says, simply,

"we've got a problem"

#anonasaurus #stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #supernatural au #eddie munson #lucas Sinclair #hes barely in it but i love him #finda's rambles #findaanswers #finda writes stuff #i hope this is something of what you were looking for anon!!#also this is an excellent example of if you want me to write more literally just shoot me an ask #tumblr is stinky so i may not answer right away but when i dooooo well. i do this #only vague but definitely hinted at #steddie #human steve au

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