#no chrissy x steve

[a-babe-without-a-name]

Sister Lovers, Water Brothers

Chapter 1: The Champion

Masterlist

Steve wasn't happy with the way Munson was treating one of his kids. So unhappy in fact, that he forces himself into their club leader's van to see what he's getting up to with Chrissy Cunningham, and maybe it's a good thing he's so paranoid because it might just save her life.

Or, the one where Chrissy doesn't die in the Munson trailer, and, despite the world-ending, the king(former) and queen(current) of Hawkins High cannot take their eyes off Eddie Munson

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A.N. I co-wrote this with my roommate! We are going insane, it's gonna be along one so if you want to read on AO3 the link is below, just like and then head over :)

Read on A03

Greta, or Ms. G for those faint of heart, was running behind as expected.

Eddie was waiting for her outside the cafeteria, but the drama teacher was notorious for running late at almost any given moment. He didn’t mind waiting for Greta to finish up her last class to let him on stage, mostly for the fact she let them use the stage for Hellfire, but also hers one was one the few classes he’s managed to pass with an A.

“Don’t,” she emphasized her warning with a wrinkled finger, “touch the curtains. Any of the ropes for that matter. The trusses and the legs are all weighted and if you mess with them they could fall.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the boys keep their hands to themselves.”

“I know, I trust you all, I just don’t want anyone getting hurt,” She waved him off and led him on stage, where she’d already cleared any of the theater’s work off to the sides. Pointing out a few for things not to touch and unlocking the lighting box.

He was not expecting, once she left him alone, for the cafeteria doors to bang back open only minutes later and for Steve fucking Harrington to clumsily push through the center of the curtains. As they fell back in place, he saw a glimpse of a girl lingering outside. What would the king be without a fan club?

“Don’t-” Eddie frantically reached up to stop him from fumbling with the fabric, trying to pull it closed behind him, but it was already too late. They both looked at each other waiting for the other to speak.

“Uhm, it's Eddie, right? Munson?”

Panicking at the sudden intrusion into his Hellfire set up he dipped into a half hearted bow, hands flourishing as they tended to when he was worked up, “‘Tis I.”

“I’m Steve.”

“Yeah I’ve got that much,” Eddie droned, when he didn’t say anything beyond introducing himself. “What are you doing here, man?”

“I wanted to talk to you…” Harrington ran a hand through his hair. His eyes bounced around the room, looking anywhere but Eddie, almost like he was nervous. “About Sinclair.”

“Lucas?”

“Yeah, look man, Dustin told me about the whole trying to find a sub for tonight but you gotta cancel, or at least let the rest of them make it too his game.”

“You want me to cancel?” Eddie laughed cruelly, arms crossing over his chest and pulling into himself only to push up into Harrington's personal space.

“For Lucas’s game, yes.”

“I’ve been working on this campaign for months! I’m not letting it go unfinished over spring break because Sinclair is a traitor!”

“So you know how it feels then?” Steve demanded, stepping back out of Eddie’s face to give the stance full effect as he leaned forward, hand on his hip, and glared with a force that could knock a weaker man down.

“What?” Eddie breathed, refusing to be that weaker man.

“He’s been practicing all year for this!” He shouted, bull dozing over Eddie's confusion, before cutting himself off. Taking a step back, he looked down at his shoes and mumbled “I wasn’t supposed to yell.” He let out a controlled breath then restarted, calmer. “ He’s been practicing all year. I helped him all summer get ready for tryouts. This is something he cares about and you are all mad at him because a schedule he did not make conflicts with your game,” Steve hissed out, one of his hands off his hip so he can wave a pointed finger in Eddie’s face.

“Well… he was supposed to be one of us, and now he spends half his time with douchebags that push his friends into lockers, and call us freaks!” Eddie pushed back, moving in tighter as he got louder.

“One of you, one of them, what does it matter?” Steve asked almost sadly, “He’s supposed to be your friend. He’s a kid, who doesn’t want to be treated like one of the freaks and wants to enjoy the game he plays with his friends, and you’re the only thing stopping him from having both. You, Eddie Munson,” Steve declares, the finger now solidly on Eddie’s chest a burning point of contact, “hater of conformity are forcing one of yours to… conform.” he finished lamely.

Eddie opened his mouth to argue that if Lucas just dropped the whole sports thing, they wouldn’t be having this problem, but Steve cut him off. “You think he’s going to want to keep playing with you if you keep treating him like this? It’s the big game, and you all are shitty friends for not showing up, I hope you know that.”

“It’s my last campaign,” Eddie said softly, feeling the fight go out of him.

“I hope no one shows up for you then, I’ll be cheering on Lucas.” Harrington shook his head and shot one last disapproving glance back at Eddie before turning on his heel and disappearing back around the curtain.

Through it Eddie could still hear Steve arguing with the girl that had been trailing after him.

“That was a little mean wasn’t it.” That must be the girl.

“He’s bullying Lucas!”

“You were a bully t-”

“Yeah thanks, Robin, I know but I’m not going to let him-”

“Yeah, yeah you gotta defend your kids.”

“They aren’t my kids I just-”

“They are too.”

“Are not.” “Are too.” They traded back and forth as they must have made their way up the aisle, and out of ear shot. Stumbling back and leaning on the set pushed to the edges of the stage, Eddie stood, still in shock with hands clasped over his mouth as he tried to process what had just happened.

The stage lights they used to during Hellfire meetings were off, leaving the fluorescent work lights glaring down on him. Under the acrid yellow, Eddie felt overexposed, even as he tucked himself smaller into the throne he commandeered from Mrs. Pearson’s last production– some Shakespeare thing he hadn’t bothered to go see. 

The problem was, Eddie knew Harrington was kinda right. He was forcing Sinclair to choose between basketball and Hellfire, and there wasn’t really opting out of games for organized sports. He also felt stupid for not even thinking about seeing Lucas’s game, he’d just let the other boys bitch about him, probably not making it off the bench. When the hell had he become such a champion for cliques?

He sat there for god knows how long debating whether or not he could handle admitting Steve Harrington might have known better than him. He’d come to accept at some point in the last year that Steve might be an alright babysitter, but this… he didn’t know how to reconcile the image of Harrington from his glory days and this strange, caring, and awkward figure before him.

By the time the rest of Hellfire arrived, his legs were cramping from being curled in a ball, his ass was numb, nothing was set up, and the work lights were still on. He had made his decision.

“What the hell, Eddie?” Gareth asked, as their fearless DM sprung out of his throne, tripping and catching himself in a dance against gravity, before finishing with a sigh and a flourish.

“Gentleman, there will be no hellfire today,” Eddie announced solemnly, and already anticipating the club members' cries of despair kept talking over them. “Another great adventure awaits… in the gymnasium.”

“We’re going to the game?” Dustin asked as he arrived with Mike and another child wearing an American flag as a cape.

“Yes,” Eddie declared, a smug smile spreading across his face. “We’re going to support Sinclair.”

“My loser brother?” the child sneered. 

“Who is she?” Gareth asked.

“Erica,” She answered for herself at the same time Mike and Eddie said “Lucas’s sister.”

“And yes,” Eddie continued, “Hellfire, and Lady Sinclair apparently, will be attending the game in support of our fellow adventurer.”

“But he never even makes it off the bench,” Mike whined, “and we brought a replacement, let's just finish the campaign.” Eddie, sick of all the talking, stepped up onto the table smoothly and stalked across to the gathering of nerds.

“Good luck playing without  a dungeon master,” he shrugged, hopping off the other end, and pushing past the bickering crowd back into the hallway and out towards the gym. 

He didn't make it very far before the rest of them were trailing after him, some content to go along with his scheming, others, namely Wheeler, still complaining about wanting to play all the way there.

Once they made it inside the crowded gym, Eddie could barely spot Steve in the sea of green and yellow, but Steve saw him right away. 

The whole club came in together after the clock had been started and grabbed the closest seat they could find. Over the rising din of the crowd and the game picking up, Steve raised a hand to wave in recognition. Eddie ducked his head and nodded back subtly, hoping none of the guys noticed.

*

The final buzzer went off and the crowd erupted as the team picked up Lucas, lifting him above their heads to accept the cheers for his score. The band picked up the fight song, loud and fast, and eventually everyone was clapping along. 

When the celebration died down the energy carried on as everyone picked up their own conversations, recounting the game and the winning basket as they rushed for the exits.

On his way to the locker rooms, Dustin managed to snag Lucas by the arm and pulled him into a hug even as he jumped around, babbling about how well he did. Eddie slapped him on the back, and told him it was a good game that it was nice to see him play.

“I didn’t think you guys would be here,” he said with a bit of awe, the adrenaline still running through him making everything more fantastical, “What about Hellfire?”

“We decided to wait for you,” Eddie shrugged, before moving out of the way to let the other members greet their star player; even Mike offered him a slap on the shoulder, mimicking their DM, and managed to not complain about postponing the game.

Eventually, the gathered crowd filtered outside, and began to dissipate as they piled into cars and made their way home. Groups of players and their friends lingered in the pools of light along the sides of the gym, waiting for the remainder of the team to make it outside.

The players and cheerleaders seemed to be debating who would be meeting up later, and who would be driving, while Steve tried to convince the gaggle of children that had ambushed him to find their own rides home.

“Get Nancy to take you home,” Steve waved toward Mike, already heading to join his sister.

“He had to be home five minutes ago,” Dustin rolled his eyes, like Steve should have all of their bedtimes memorized. “They don’t have time to drop me off, besides, looks like you’ve lost your date already.” The kid sounded almost scolding as he pointed out Steve’s failure to bring a girl home.

“She had her own ride, plus, I’m waiting for Robin,” He told Dustin for the third time, “Wasn’t your mom going to pick you up from dungeons and dipshits anyway?”

“Yeah, but you can just-”

“No! I told you, Robin has to change and deal with band stuff, so just go meet your… mom.” Steve’s voice trailed off as he watched Eddie wander away from the rest of his club, and gesture at someone coming out of the locker rooms, before turning back into the school. 

A minute later, Chrissy Cunningham carefully made her way toward the far corner of the parking lot. Whenever the basketball team let out another loud whoop, she looked back nervously and pushed further from the few lights in the parking lot. Steve watched her path, trying to convince himself that she wasn’t headed for the black van parked by itself. Today might have been the first time he’d actually spoken to Eddie, but everyone knew that van. Sure there were the typical rumors about who to talk to for weed, where to find him, but recently Steve had gotten used to Eddie tearing out of the parking lot as Steve arrived to pick the kids up from Hellfire. Every time it made him wonder how Eddie wasn’t already deaf, from how loud his music was blasting even in the parking lot.

“Steve! Steve!” Dustin was screeching at him trying to get his attention, but he shoved past the kid, close on Chrissy’s trail. 

The next time she looked back, checking to make sure no one near the gym had noticed her slip away, she did a double take as Steve came up next to her, just as she rounded the passenger side of the van.

“Hey Chrissy,” he greeted with faux casualty. “Crazy game right?” he laughed, letting her put space between them as she pulled her sweater closer around her, clearly off put. “You did a great job out there, you know, cheering everyone on.”

“Oh, uh, thanks Steve,” Chrissy shifted awkwardly, he hadn’t ever really spoken to her maybe in passing once or twice, but he had never approached her like this, “Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah, of course, Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Steve nodded, trailing off, “Huge night for the Tigers…uh Chrissy, by the way, where are you going?”

The question took Chrissy off guard, Steve seemed like a guy to mind his own business, this felt weird.

“Yeah, huge night…” She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to avoid the question. 

“Yep…” He looked down at her awkwardly, “So, where ya going?”

“Why do you care?” Chrissy snapped, curling a lip at him.

“I don’t know, I mean,” Steve shrugged, heaving a sarcastic sigh, “Your boyfriend just won what was probably the best game of his career, and you're here, waiting like a puppy outside Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson’s van.”

“What’s your damage, man?” Chrissy flinched, becoming overly defensive “I barely fucking know you, didn’t you graduate, like, last year? Leave me alone?”

“Chrissy listen, I really don’t think-”

“And I really don’t care what you think!” Chrissy half yelled, she ducked her head, glancing past Steve towards the crowds by the school, anxious about drawing attention.

“Please Chrissy I-” Steve tried to plead, 

“Hey!” Chrissy’s view of Steve was obscured when Eddie reached the van, stepping between them, “She said fuck off,”

“Well,” Steve shrugged, taking a step back, “That’s not exactly what she said,”

“Jesus H. Christ Harrington, what is this fucking boner you have over me all of the sudden,” Eddie shook his head in disbelief, “Can you go back to ignoring my existence for like two seconds?”

Eddie turned, making a point to slam his shoulder into Steve as he did so, and opened the car door for Chrissy. She thanked him with a small nod and climbed into the passenger seat, fumbling awkwardly with the usually unused seatbelt.

Eddie left Steve fuming at the side of the van as he made his way to the driver’s side. He hopped into the seat, jamming the keys into the ignition and trying to stifle his irritation in front of Chrissy, worried about scaring her off. 

Before he could put the van into reverse, the side door slid open with a bang.

“Nope!” Steve announced, climbing into the back and sliding the door closed behind him, “I’m coming with.”

“Like hell,” Eddie whipped around, genuinely too stunned at Steve’s brashness to react physically, “Get the fuck out.”

“No, no way, I don’t trust you!” Steve jabbed a finger at Eddie, crouching between the two front seats, “If you can’t do whatever it is you plan to with me around, probably shouldn't be doing it.”

“This is trespassing,” Eddie offered, still caught off guard, “I could have you arrested.”

“Yeah, okay” Steve reached under Eddie’s seat, snatching up a ziplock bag of weed, “I’m sure the cops would love digging through your van.”

Eddie huffed, quirking his jaw to the side in irritation as he gave in.

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie turned to Chrissy, soothing out the crease in his forehead, “If you want to do this another night…”

“No!” Chrissy interjected too enthusiastically, but she really felt like if she spent tonight sober she’d die, “I mean, it’s fine…. I really need this..” 

Steve raised an eyebrow, at Chrissy, suddenly unsure of what he stepped into. 

Eddie chewed his lip, he could see the desperation on Chrissy’s face. Fuck Harrington, Chrissy trusted him, he said he’d help her with this.

“Fuck it,” Eddie turned around and threw the van into reverse, “Buckle up Harrington.”

Chrissy sat back in the front seat, trying to stay out of view of the crowds in the parking lot. Eddie's reckless driving didn’t help keep eyes away from her as the Van sped through the parking lot, narrowly missing groups of highschoolers. When they were finally out of the post game traffic and away from the school, Chrissy let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She allowed herself to relax for a moment, forgetting about the uninvited guest in the back seat as she looked around Eddie's van. It  was…dirty, but not gross, and she could tell that he had swept up the loose items he usually kept in the passenger seat into a lidless shoe box on the floor by her feet. A pair of old concert ticket stubs were pinned in the visor above her head. A chain hung from the rear view mirror, a heavy oval locket hung at the bottom, and a few hair ties were wrapped around the mirror as well.

Chrissy glanced over at Eddie, one wrist draped over the steering wheel the other arm leaning against the open window. The parts of his hair closest to the side of his face whipped around in the wind, glancing off his cheek as he nodded his head along to the music, Chrissy wondered what he’d look like with his hair pulled back.

Catching herself staring at him, she jerked her head away choosing to instead look at herself in the side mirror. She looked tired, not from cheering at the game or classes all day, but in a way that made her look close to death. Movement on her left pulled her attention away from her own grim reflection. Eddie leaned over, ejecting the tape in his radio. He opened up the glove box in front of Chrissy, tossing the tape in with the others. 

“I’m sick of that album,” Eddie leaned back to his side of the car, he nodded towards the tapes in his glove box, “See if there’s anything you might like in there.”

Chriss hesitated for a moment before Eddie nodded at her again, encouraging her to look through them. She leaned forward, carefully sorting through the tapes, flipping them over and reading the names. Most of them were unrecognizable to her, the type of stuff Jason would call devil music. One stuck out to her though, the cover was unfamiliar, but she recognized the name. 

She put the tape in and turned the volume down, unsure of what this would actually sound like. The radio whirred for a moment before the sound of guitar on the first song began to play. 

“This is a good one,” Eddie laughed lightly, taking the case from her and looking at it, “This is Queen’s first album actually, their sound has changed alot since then. You listen to them alot?”

“I wouldn’t say… a lot,” Chrissy admitted, fidgeting with her necklace, “I used to listen to them more in middle school, but I haven't heard this one before. I think I like it though.”

“Yeah, it’s a good one.” Eddie agreed, “It’s been a while since I had it in, I’ll probably keep it on for a while…”

His words trailed off as he listened to the music. He nodded along to the beat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Oh, you did really well at the game, by the way.” Eddie piped up, glancing over at her. 

“You were at the game?” Chrissy was surprised he came and more surprised she hadn’t noticed him there.

“Yeah, of course,” Eddie threw a pointed glance over his shoulder at Steve, turning sarcastic, “Tiger’s big game, wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“I’m glad I went. Really!” Eddie offered up, worried the bite meant for Steve was coming off like he meant it for Chrissy, “You do that cheer thing, like, really well.”

“Thank you,” She liked that he seemed to appreciate her cheering, even if the rest of the school didn’t sometimes, “I’m glad you were able to make it to the game.”

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek, “You’ll have to let me know what other things you cheer at, it was super cool, you looked great…”

“Oh, so you came to the game just to watch the cheerleaders?” Steve scoffed, “and now what you’re stealing Jason’s girl-”

Chrissy jumped, surprised at Steve’s sudden interjection. When she turned around to look at him, he was leaning forward in the tiny fold-down seat in the back of the van.

“Woah, woah!” Eddie laughed in disbelief, “First of all, you’re the one that coerced me into going to the game-”

“Cause you were being an ass to Lucas,” Steve sneered, but Eddie argued over him. 

“And you might think that women are property, Harrington, but not all of us only talk to girls who’s pants-”

“Hey!”

“Thought, it’s not like you’ve been getting any recently anyway, if Henderson knows his shit,” Eddie half regretted saying it, only for the fact he was betraying Dustin's trust, but the way it made Steve turn a deep shade of red, proving the statement true, was worth it. 

Chrissy watched the two bicker for a moment, confused as to whatever relationship they had. She assumed they had never had an interaction in their lives, but it seemed like they knew more about each other than just distant school peers. She turned away, deciding to be more interested in whatever was outside 

The town of Hawkins whipped by the open window, suburban houses giving way to dense forests as they got closer and closer to Forest Hills. The town she spent most of her life in felt unfamiliar tonight, darker and colder than it should on a night in March. Then the scenery began to slow down, unblurring until everything was still as the van rolled to a stop.

Chrissy waited a beat and then, realizing the boy's argument had petered out, looked forward. Confused to see the straight road stretched out in front of them, no stop sign like she expected.

“What are we-” Chrissy began, stopping when she realized Eddie was no longer on the driver’s seat, “Eddie?” 

She turned around in her seat, Steve also missing from where he just was.  She unbuckled her seat belt, kneeling in the seat to look further into the back of the van.

“Eddie?” She waited a moment, “Steve?”

Nothing, just the gentle rumble of the idling van. 

Chrissy opened the door, climbed out onto the street, and looking around. The road was empty, no sign of the boys she had just been in the car with less than a minute ago. She called for them again, feeling panic rise in her chest as she took a few hesitant steps in one direction and then the other. She could see the sign for the trailer park where Eddie lived up ahead, not far from where they stopped. She tugged the sleeves of her jacket into her palms, fidgeting with the fabric, unsure of what was happening but figured heading towards where people might be was a good idea. She was halfway towards the sign when an odd whirring started to ring out around her. Chrissy stopped standing still and tried to figure out where the sound was coming from. She turned to see that the van was gone and in the place where it had been she could make out the silhouette of someone sitting at a table. Chrissy took a few steps towards the figure.

“Hello?” Chrissy called out.

Something was wrong. This was wrong.

She walked closer, unsure of what else to do. The whirring got louder as she approached, she began to recognize the figure sitting at the table facing away from her. 

“Mom?” Chrissy asked, confused as to why her mom was set up and sewing in the middle of Kerley at 10:30 at night. 

“Just loosening this up for you sweetheart,”  It was her mothers voice, but something was wrong. It didn't sound like her at all, “You’re going to look…absolutely beautiful.”

Chrissy took a step closer, reaching out to put a hand on her moms shoulder when her mom turned around in her chair. Except it wasn’t her mom at all, it was a horrible and distorted version of her mom. Chrissy screamed at the sight of her mothers glazed over eyes and rotting smile. 

She turned to run down the street, towards the trailer park and away from whatever this was. When she turned, though, she was no longer on Kerley in the middle of the night, instead she was in her own home. She was on the 2nd floor landing, right outside her own open bedroom door. She began to pant, her heart beating faster than it ever had as she felt the presence of something bad behind her. Coming for her. Calling for her.

Chrissy took off, sprinting down her stairs, taking them two at a time as she ran from whatever it was that was after her. She nearly tripped as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She looked around, hoping to see anything that felt right. Down the hall Chrissy could see her father sitting in his usual chair in the family room, the glow of the tv lighting up the room around him.

“Dad!” She shouted out, running to him like she was a little girl again., “Dad?”

When she reached him though, like her mom it wasn’t him. He turned in his chair to look up at his daughter, but his eyes and mouth were sewn tightly shut. Chrissy screamed jumping back as he struggled to speak, thrashing in his seat. Chrissy didn’t know what else to do but to run, she headed towards the front door. She couldn't help but to stop and gag when she reached the large dining room of her house. The long table that was rarely used was covered in plates and platters full of  slimy rotting food covered in thousands of spiders. Chrissy choked back the bile in her throat and sprinted past. She could still feel the presence of whatever was hunting her not far behind. 

She reached the front doors with a bang as she fell into them. Chrissy wasted no time in throwing open  both doors. Her heart sank at the sight of heavy boards crossing in front of the exit. Blocking her only way out 

“No… no!” She screamed, slamming her shoulder into the wood, she screamed as loud as she possibly could, “Help! Please somebody help!

She could hear the pounding of  footfalls approaching her. She continued to slam into the door, watching behind her as a tall figure stepped into the archway of the main hall. Slowly her struggle came to an end as a rough voice called out to her.

The almost human figure in front of her was grotesque. Tall and distorted with glazed over eyes and thick tendrils running all over its body like roots. With the light reflecting off its wet skin Chrissy could see the roots move over his body, like a separate alive entity. Its feet squelched into the hardwood with each heavy step.  It approached her slowly as she whimpered against the wood, pressing herself as far back into it as she could praying to a god she had never believed in to save her.

“Don’t cry, Chrissy.” It spoke, coming closer and closer. She couldn’t respond with anything aside from more fearful cries.

“It’s time for your suffering…” It was right in front of her now, close enough she could smell the earthy wet mildew scent radiating from its body. Slowly it raised a hand, its horrifyingly long fingers stretching out to hover over Chrissy’s face, “to end.”

 Chrissy whimpered, doing her best to prepare herself for whatever hell she was about to enter. She did what she had done years ago when she pictured her own death, she dragged the good stuff to the front of her brain. She had always known that whenever she died, however she died, whether she wished it upon herself or not, she’d want the good things to be the last things she thought of. 

She thought of her dad, of him helping her practice cheers and taking her out for ice cream afterwards. She thought of her brother, who had made it a point one summer to have breakfast ready every morning for Chrissy when she came down from her bedroom before going to her summer job and driving him to baseball camp. She thought of her friends on the cheer team, how much she loved being an athlete with them. She thought of Jason, how nervous he was to ask her to homecoming freshman year with a bouquet of flowers that made him sneeze in the middle of asking her. She even thought of Eddie today, the way he was the first person her age that actually noticed her in months. How he did his best to make her laugh earlier that very day. Her last day.

Chrissy could swear she could even hear him saying her name… calling her name. And she could hear a song she would never be able to name, but was sure she listened to as a kid with her father.

“Once I believed in everyone.” She could hear it faintly, far away accompanied by the muted strum of a guitar and then the beat of a drum as the voice sang on, “Everyone and anyone can see.”

She recognizes the voice, understanding now that it was the Queen tape Eddie had let her put in his radio.

“Oh, oooh, the night comes down,” Chrissy felt the world fall away, thinking about the unknown feeling of dying as she tipped back and fell into the music… 

*

In the rearview mirror, Eddie looked back to see Steve pouting down at his clenched hands. He was embarrassed, but took the time to calm himself and spoke softer, but still aggravated,

“Look man, I don’t trust you. Dustin might think you’re hot shit, but I’m not about to trust a drug dealer that hangs out with a bunch of kids, and makes off with the queen bee in dark parking lots.” Steve gestured at Chrissy, where she was keeping out of their admittedly petty argument. “What are you two up to anyway? You still haven’t answered me.”

“None of your business,” Eddie half-heartedly threw back, pulling his gaze in front of the road to look over at Chrissy. She’d been scared enough earlier in the woods alone, so he was sure that she was uncomfortable with Harrington sticking his big head where it didn’t belong. In trying to stay out of the argument she’d crammed herself as close to the window as she physically could. 

“I really want to like you, Munson. I do!” Steve continued, frustrated and gesturing in a way that if they weren’t stuck in the van Eddie was sure it would have been accompanied by pacing. “The kids seem to trust you, even if it is just because you lead their little game club, but I don’t know, man, it’s like you want to look like a bad guy- with the leather and the chains, and the loud music. And what am I supposed to think?”

Eddie was only half listening to Steve’s rant, instead focused on Chrissy, who had gone eerily still.

“Harrington, shut up a second would you?” He said and reached for Chrissy’s shoulder. He was sure to telegraph the movement, but she didn’t jump like she had been all day. In fact, she didn’t react at all, even as he shook her gently.

“Don’t tell me to shut up, I’m trying to”

“Harrington!” He insisted, using his momentary shock to address Chrissy without Steve babbling, “Hey, Chrissy? You okay?”

“What? What’s wrong?” he questioned, trying to lean up between their seats, but Eddie's arm was still in the way.

“I don’t know man, maybe she’s passed out?”

“Chrissy? Chrissy you awake?” Steve tried, shaking the passenger's seat. “Did you give her something?” He accused when she again did not react.

“You got to her first? When would I have given her something?” Eddie asked, offended at the notion.

“I don’t know! Look, just-” Steve caught a glimpse of Chrissy’s eyes in the side mirror, they were rolled back in her head and almost looked like they were flickering. “Shit, pull over. Pull over!”

“What? What’s going on?” Eddie tried to get a better look but was forced to return both hands to the wheel as he stepped on the gas, getting them the final half block to his trailer and skidding into their gravel driveway. Not bothering to shut off the van, he unbuckled himself and leaned in front of Chrissy, pulling her away from where she was slumped in the door. “Chrissy! Chrissy wake up!” He tried shaking her more, but nothing was working.

“Shit, is she having a seizure?” Steve asked before deciding it didn’t matter what was happening but he had to do something. “Unbuckle her.” 

Eddie frantically jabbed the button until it released and she finally began to move. For a moment a brief wave of relief passed between them, but she still wasn’t awake. Her eyes continued to blink and twitch rapidly as her head tilted back and she began to hover over the seat.

“What the fuck?!What the fuck?!” Eddie shouted, hands outstretched wanting to help, but clueless and scared. 

As if suspended by invisible strings she lifted toward the cabin roof, the seat belt still tangled around her provided some resistance, but the thing lifting her was stronger. The light flickered wildly. Rather than shutting off the intensity and frequency seemed to build indefinitely heightening the chaos of the situation. Continuing to rise, Chrissy slid free of the seat belt, her head threatening to reach the ceiling as both boys frantically racked their brains for something helpful. Eddie was mostly trying to form words, make sense of the scene before him, and keep from screaming, but Steve knew better. He was used to seeing weird shit like this, and he thought he'd gotten pretty good at dealing with upside-down crap at this point. 

The problem was nothing was attacking Chrissy, she was just slowly hovering in the car and it would be peaceful if it weren’t for the aching feeling of dread filling the air. Steve collected himself enough to move his hand between the crown of her head and where she was now pressing into the car. Eddie moved to stop him, still unsure of what his intentions had been all night long, but when Chrissy pressed harder and harder into the van ceiling he relented. He just hoped Harrington didn’t get his hand crushed.

“The heat!” Steve shouted suddenly, waving wildly with his free hand for Eddie to move. "They don’t like the heat, turn it up!”

“What!? They!?” Eddie struggled to look past Chrissy floating between them, her shoulders now hunching to bring her closer against the roof.

“Don’t ask, just do it!” Steve pushed, unable to reach up and do it himself. From the driver seat, it was muscle memory to flip the heat and fans all the way up, as he did so often during the winter, but the motion suddenly felt foreign to Eddie. Hot air blasted him in the face even as it was contracted by the cool night air coming in through the open windows.

“What the hell is that going to do?” Eddie asked, figuring he wasn’t wasting time anymore as the both desperately grabbed Chrissy and tried to drag her back down. 

The voice on the radio continued to sing on, accompanied by drums and guitars, though it was undercut by the lights still buzzing and flashing rapidly and the now loud fans whirring over the van's engine. Chrissy pressed harder against Steve’s hand and bent so that her shoulders and back were pushing against the thin ceiling threatening to dent it outward. Both boys were yelling desperately, begging Chrissy to wake up, to give any sort of indication that she was still there. Everything is built higher and higher. It felt like any moment the van would give out with the pressure of it all. Steve winced as his fingers bent uncomfortably, and then it all came crashing down.

It was only a short fall, but Chrissy’s legs caught on the seat and slid awkwardly back to the floor as Steve and Eddie’s desperate pulling finally gave way, forcing her down into the seat.

Chrissy gasped as her back hit the seat, nearly knocking the wind out of her as she frantically looked around. She was back in Eddie’s van, parked in front of what she assumed was his home. Hot air blew on her face as she began to hyperventilate and cry. She realized that Eddie and Steve were also back with her. Eddie had a hand twisted in the front of her sweater, the other wrapped around her forearm and Steve had a heavy hand pushing down on her shoulder.

They sat like that for a beat, all of them shaking as Chrissy sobbed. Steve took his hand away, sitting back on his heels as his mind raced. Eddie removed the hand still clenched around the font of her clothes and dropped his grip on Chrissy’s arm. Without thinking, Chrissy snatched his hand back, still shaking as she held onto him.

Eddie remained a cord of tension. Though he returned the grip Chrissy had on his hand, the other went back on the steering wheel as if the car might take itself out of the park and try to crash them into his house. Steve honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it did. 

From behind his curtain of tangled hair Eddie started up a steady chant of “fuck fuck fuck, what the fuck man,” until he was turning around to scream at Steve, “What the fuck!”

“Shut up!” Chrissy cut them off, trying to take a deep breath, wiping away the tears with her free hand. The sensory overload that was his car finally got to Eddie. He shut off the engine, cutting off Freddie Mercury mid-lyric, killing the hot air still blasting from the vents and regretfully taking his hand away from Chrissy’s. The silence settled over them, as they tried to separately piece together what had just happened.

“That was normal right?” Eddie asked, unable to move, even to look away from the wheel. “That was a normal seizure, and nothing weird happened. You weren’t floating, and my wiring is just shit-”

“No man, I don’t think so,” Steve shook his head, trying to shake a cohesive thought together. He let out one “Shit!” punctuated by his hands punching into Eddie's chair, before searching for his bag in the dark, only to realize he’d left it in his own car.

“What is going on dude?” Eddie asked with a warning tone, looking to Chrissy for answers but she shook her head.

“I don’t know what that was. I- it’s happened before, hearing things, but that- Was I floating?” They both turn to Steve waiting for an explanation he didn’t feel like he had.

“Look,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I know some things, but I don’t know what that was. The floating is new, it always has to be something new.” He started to trail off, mostly talking to himself under his breath, “Give me the dogs again, I can hit the dogs or burn shit, or punch a Russian.”

“Harrington, It’s starting to sound like both of you are losing it,” Eddie observed, panic rising in his voice again.

“I’m not crazy! There’s just like…magic… in Hawkins,” He attempted to explain, ignoring Eddie’s bafflement. “Well it’s not magic, there’s this girl with superpowers but she lost them, and I just need my walkie, we’ve got to tell Henderson.”

“Henderson! The child?” Eddie screeched, making Chrissy flinch again, leaning closer against the door. “Sorry, sorry” he breathed, raising his hands and shrinking into himself, making himself smaller and giving her room. “I just- what’s Henderson got to do with Chrissy having a seizure?”

“I would also like to know,” Chrissy interjected.

“He’s the one that got me dragged into all of this. It started when Will Byers went missing. Remember with the fake body and stuff?” They both nodded, how could anyone forget? “But you said this happened before Chrissy?” He continued,” Seeing things?

She nodded shakily, “just the past few days, but it's…been getting worse. That’s why I was- Eddie was going to…” she trailed off, unable to meet their eyes.

“You were seeing things, and decided drugs would help?” Steve condescended.

“Fuck off, man,” Eddie bit, and pushed Steve over where he was squatting between their chairs, leaving him sprawled in the back of the van and offering Chrissy some space. “Who the hell are you to judge?” Properly scolded, Steve ducked his head and mumbled an apology, but Eddie had already refocused on Chrissy. “What have you been seeing?”

“I was hearing my mom mostly,” she admitted, “But there was this clock? In the woods behind the school, I saw a clock in a tree and spiders came out of it. But this time was different. I wasn’t just seeing, or hearing something that wasn’t there, I thought- it felt like I was in my own house, and I could see it all so clearly.”

“What about vines?” Steve rejoined the conversation, having righted himself, “Any sort of creatures, or particles? Like in the air?”

“No, nothing like that,” Chrissy shook her head, brow furrowing as she tried to recall details. In the moment she had been too terrified to notice anything that detailed, but she tried to explain anyway, “I was on the road, but it turned into… my house? It was like a nightmare, but it was so real.”

She paused for a moment trying to organize her thoughts before speaking, “And my parents were there, but it was wrong. Like, my mom wasn’t my mom and my dad’s face was…”

She choked back a sob thinking about the grotesque version of her parents, “And I was being followed by… Something else? It was shaped like a human, but it was more like an alien or something. It was so tall and it had these roots,” She turned to look at Steve, “I guess they could have been vines, they were all over its body and they were moving like they were alive. I couldn’t get out of my house, I was trapped there, even when I got to the front door it was, like, boarded up. And this thing it was… calling to me?”

She looked up at Eddie, both boys waited for her to continue, “It said that my suffering,” another sob caught in her throat, cutting her off, “my suffering would end… It was so awful. I… I can’t… I don’t…”

Eddie squeezed her hand as she tilted forward and tried to stop herself from crying, her other hand covering her mouth. Steve put a hand on her shoulder, trying to do anything to calm her down.

“That… I’m sorry, that could be something, but I have no idea what it could mean,” He took his hand away and rubbed his forehead as if he could get rid of the stress lines growing there. Then something must have come to him because he looked up at both of them with horror. “I forgot Robin.”

*

Steve’s car was the only one left in the lot. The lights on the outside of the school were still on, thankfully, but even the janitor had locked up and gone home.

Robin sat on the hood of the Beemer, playing a game of tic tac toe with herself in the dust, not caring what Steve would say, because he had left her at school! It was almost ten, and she didn’t have any quarters left for the pay phone, so she was stuck waiting, hoping that whoever stole her ride home would return him. 

Sooner or later she would probably have started the long walk home, trumpet case as her only self-defense, and brave the lecture from her mom for being out so late. Fortunately, a black van came careening into the parking lot, not one minute after she finished filling another grid with no winner in sight. When it came to a stop next to her, She caught sight of Eddie Munson in the driver's seat, before her traitorous best friend came tumbling out of the side door.

“Where the hell-” She started to yell, sliding down the hood and dropping to her feet.

“We’ve got a code red,” He interrupted, grabbing her by the shoulder as if trying to physically hold her gaze and force her to take him seriously. “At least I think we do?”

“And you left me alone?! In the parking lot! To what? Fight another hell beast with Munson?”

“Hey, Robin,” the aforementioned Munson waved unsurely, before skirting around the van to open the passenger side door and help Chrissy Cunningham down.

“Look, I didn’t mean to leave you I just- Eddie- Fuck.”

“Steve-o here ditched you because I looked ‘kinda creepy’ and couldn’t be trusted with Chrissy,” Eddie informed her, crossing his arms and looking between the two of them for their reaction.

“And it’s a good thing I did!” Steve threw his hands up, exasperated.

“What is happening?” Robin whispered to herself as the strange trio came together before her. Eddie and Steve were still unsure of each other, carefully watching each other, while Chrissy kept Eddie between her and Steve.

Robin let out a panicked sigh, “Okay, what are we dealing with? Cause I need to be home,” she pretended to think and glanced down at her wrist, “twenty minutes ago, so if we need to save the world again we better do it quickly.”

“Save the world?” Chrissy piped up, moving out of Eddie's shadow.

“Mostly our own asses,” Steve corrected, earning himself a slap on the arm. Robin rolled her eyes as Steve rubbed at his arm.

“That’s for abandoning me!” She reprimanded, then turned to Eddie and Chrissy. “This one’s useless, so tell me what happened, and quickly! I want to get out of this stupid parking lot, it’s giving me the creeps.” She gave a full body shiver to sell it.

The two of them did their best to summarize the strangest car ride of their lives, with only minor interjections from Steve, and Chrissy tried to explain the recent episodes she’d been having. Eddie’s half-panic dramatic reenactment of Chrissy floating inside the van was more amusing than helpful, but it got them all to smile, and it gave him a break from anxiously twisting his rings and pulling at his hair while Chrissy described the horror show that had taken place in her head.

The whole time, Chrissy remained pretty much glued to Eddie’s side, though it seemed like she was warming up to Robin. She pointedly ignored Steve.

“The man, monster, thing, he had his claws around my face, grabbing me, and then it was like he pushed me backward, and I fell back into my body after I heard the music- Eddie's tape was still playing and I could hear it right before I woke up.”

“So what, the monster is some guy this time?” Robin asked.

“I mean we fought literal caves once so a guy would-”

“He wasn’t just a guy,” Chrissy interjected before their bickering could escalate, “You mentioned vines earlier? He looked like he was covered in vines, or made of… veins, and really gross. Just, wet and almost decaying.” She curled in on herself at the recollection, and Eddie wiped at his arms as if shaking off bugs, and hopped closer to her. 

They stood there for a moment, unsure about what to do next. Robin broke the silence.

“So… Now what?” She asked, looking around at the odd little group, uncomfortable with the silence.

“What do you mean?” Chrissy asked, looking over at Robin.

“Chrissy, you were just, like, possessed, or something,” Robing waved her hands around to make a point, “And we’re just gonna go home? Kick back and have a post-possession beer?!”

“No, no you’re right.” Steve groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Chrissy shouldn’t be alone. What if it happens again.”

Chrissy frowned, looking down at the ground and trying to stifle her panic. Blinking back tears at the idea of going through that again. 

“No, no that’s not happening again,” Eddie cut in, noticing Chrissy’s anxiety.

“You can’t guarantee that man,” Steve shook his head at Eddie, looking sorry.

“Then,” Eddie floundered for a second, trying to think of something, “Then, I’ll stay with her! I’ll stop it if it happens again.”

“You have no idea how-” Steve started.

“The heat, right?” Eddie cut him off, almost pleading, “The heat makes it stop?”

“You barely held it together the first time!” Steve argued, a hand on his hip, “Do you really think you’d be able to help her?”

“Hey, man, that was-” Eddie jabbed a finger at Steve, getting irritated.

“Hey!” Robin shouted, cutting Eddie off and making both boys look her way, “How about we all stick together? Me and Steve have handled stuff like this before, and Chrissy clearly trusts Eddie to some degree, so… let’s stay together?”

“Do you want to do that?” Eddie asked, looking down at Chrissy by his side.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Chrissy said. She opened her mouth to say more but stopped.

“It’s settled then!” Robin clapped, “Let’s head to Steve's house!”

“My house? Why my house?” Steve turned to Robin.

“Because you have the biggest house and no parents to freak out about whatever exorcism shit we might have to do.” Robin was already headed around the side of Steve’s car to the passenger seat. 

“That’s fucked up and you know it,” Steve pointed a finger at Robin, who just shrugged and pulled on the door handle in response.

“Just follow us!” Robin shouted towards Eddie and Chrissy over the top of the car before getting in.

Eddie and Chrissy stood there for a moment, taken off guard by Robin's quick decisions. He looked down at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” He asked, looking down at her and raising an eyebrow.

Chrissy shrugged, “Do we have a better option?”

[arelliann]

This one goes out to @corrodedbisexual for the ref and idea because I couldn't resist having a go

[meggiejolly]

Okay, random fic idea I had a couple of nights ago and put in my Tumblr drafts and then forgot:

Cheerleader Eddie. The school tells him he has to join some for of sports team maybe he skipped gym too often and the only way to get enough gym credits and all other credits to graduate is if he's part of a sports team. I don't know enough about American school system for this.

Eddie does not do anything sports ball related and the sport options at Hawkins High not involving balls are limited. He assumes they would never let him on the swim team with all his hair and tattoos and he’s not a good swimmer anyways.

He is friends with Chrissy though and she eventually convinces him to become a cheerleader and Eddie agrees because he’s sort of out of options. He’s also kind of flexible and likes to move to music.

To everyone's surprise, especially Eddie's, he's actually pretty good at it and even has fun doing it. He uses all his dungeon master experience and dramatics to make up the best cheers.

Steve get's very bi panicked about Eddie in a tight cheerleader outfit and a high ponytail cheering him on during basketball games.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Down on all fours

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Blurb: After you unwillingly come clean about your undying love for Eddie Munson, your life is swept into a whirlwind of deceit, lust, confusion and regret… and glitter that Eddie can’t seem to shake from his pockets.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham

Warnings: 18+, slight angst (?), alcohol consumption, reader referred to as girl, cheating/unfaithfulness, drugs mentioned (weed), mentions of blood, depictions of violence, cursing, bodily insecurity, implied sexual themes. Character are 20+ and in a college setting!

-

divider by @cafekitsune

The movie theatre would never be the same anymore— not to you. Not since that day. A place once associated with joy and child like wonder, where you watched your beloved characters come to life on the big screen and where you could laugh openly, unattractively and purely with your friends.

Tainted. Forever changed.

But not forgotten. Never forgotten.

The memories have been eating you alive, feasting on your insecurity and your shame. Despite the look of fearful regret on Eddie’s face, you still thought about him.

Day and night— morning and noon. Before you slept and before you awoke each morning. He even infiltrated your dreams. Dreams are meant to be sacred, private affairs and yet, Eddie Munson still ruled them like the King of all of your desires. His ring clad fingers were still clutching onto your heart— squeezing and loosening his grip around the vital organ as he saw fit. He had the upper hand; the control.

He always did. He always has.

You couldn’t bring yourself to face them— any of them. Not Steve, not Robin, not Chrissy and especially not Eddie. It was peculiar, the addictive need to see Eddie no matter the cost— no matter the humiliation. It out weighed every sane thought you had.

You would steal glances at him from across a room, hiding in plain sight. Desperate for the shadows to claim you as their own; for the walls to hug you back. You felt other worldly, as if your soul was floating outside of your body and you had no rational feeling. No say. No voice.

Confessions should be freeing; but you have never felt so trapped. Chained. Soul tied.

Love conquers all, but love also might just conquer you.

-

It’s mid-week, and although college parties always attract unwanted attention you could never have prepared to see this many people crashing your family home. Precious photos were knocked over, the smashed glass from the frames line the top of shelves and cabinets- glittering them in a forbidden pixie dust.

Your bedroom has been occupied by a couple you didn’t recognise and if it weren’t for the pleasant buzz of alcohol coursing through your blood you most certainly would have screamed at them to leave. The sicker parts of you were envious of their engagement. Their human closeness and connection.

Why couldn’t you have that? Didn’t you deserve that?

So instead of blowing your top, you roll your eyes and scoff before slamming the familiar door obnoxiously loud and coke to nest at the bottom of the staircase; the wood is hard and cold against your bare thighs which causes you to pay some uncomfortable attention to your outfit. Sparkly, twinkly and stupid.

Your heart sinks to the abysmal pit at the bottom of your stomach at the realisation that nobody here really knows what this party is for. Who it is for.

Your birthday streamers that once decorated the walls proudly have become unpinned from the concrete, cascading down the wall in a massive spiral and hiding the message written on the plastic.

Happy birthday!

Not a single person had uttered those words to you the whole night. Even on a day where you were meant- born to be celebrated, you have been forgotten. A bystander in your own life. An observer in a theatrical play written for you. About you.

And the humour of it all?

You were used to it now.

Nothing could break your heart; because it was already in pieces.

Shreds. Splinters. Fragments. Puzzle pieces never to be solved or mended again. A heart shaped hole stamped into your chest where someone once lived.

Cobwebs inhabit the vacant crevasse, dust gathering on the sensitive walls. The sensitive walls that have hardened into a volcanic crust.

The only thing left behind in your impenetrable fortress? A single crumpled envelope with Eddie’s name written on it in cursive. The ‘i’ in his name punctuated with a loveheart.

He was the only tenant you wanted living there. And in reality, he should have been evicted a long time ago.

But nobody said love was easy. Nobody warned you that it would be this hard, though, either.

Was love supposed to make you this low? Was it supposed to make you find your bearings at the bottom of a red fizzing cup? The carbonated bubbles in your drink seemed to be your only friend tonight.

Would it really be your birthday if you didn’t cry at least once? Or twice… or thrice.

“Hey! Does anyone have any weed?” Your quiet attempt at a yell comes out of your mouth in the form of a drunken hiccup and you are debating the possibility that you may have stood up too fast, “Anyone? No?” Frustrated you pinch the bridge of your nose as you sigh loudly into your hand, your ears met by silence from your peers.

“I might.” You can hear a comedic tweak in his voice and you swear you can feel part of you die on the inside.

“Steve,” You say through clenched teeth, forcing a smile, “I didn’t know you smoked?” You also weren’t aware that he would be here— but you can’t deny the attention that this party is demanding from the neighbourhood. You are partly surprised that the police haven’t been called yet, but your neighbours aren’t known to be snitches.

“I don’t usually,” he shrugs dismissively, “I didn’t know you were throwing a party? Thankfully word travels fast in this town, huh?” His elbow gently nudges into your arm playfully, “There’s no better time for me to give you this.” He hands you a small box that has been wrapped all too perfectly in a sage green wrapping paper; brought together with a pretty black tulle bow. For a moment you are totally stunned, eyes inflated as you gawk down at the gift in your slightly shaky hands.

“You…” you search for the words, lost in his kindness and when you finally gather enough courage to meet his sweet brown eyes you nearly drown in their depths, “You got me a gift?”

He flashes you one of his signature Steve smiles and your drunk brain can’t seem to comprehend if this is a joke of not.

“Of course I did? You’re one of my best friends!” His voice is a happy chime as he ruffles his fingers through his chestnut gelled hair, offering the stiff strands some movement. You notice his pupils flicking between your face and the present in your hands, one of his eyebrows raise with subtle confusion, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Yeah- yes! Yes, of course!” You set your empty cup down on a nearby table before your nimble fingers come to wrestle with the sticky tape, painted fingernails clawing like an animal to get to the goods inside. There is a nervousness that comes with the unwrapping of the gift and you don’t quite understand why. The moment feels significant… special. You finally feel somewhat special tonight.

Eagerly, Steve keeps his warm amber eyes trained on you. A soft, dreamy smile itching at his lips as he awaits your approval. You and Steve had been friends for such a long time, you even opened your college acceptance letters together in his family dining room with his parents. He had always been there for you, through everything. One of your best friends— possibly your only friend.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while— how have you been?” His voice is laced with genuine concern but all you can do is ogle at what is displayed in front of you. A shiny silver necklace that had been personalised to have your name dangling from the chain with small colourful charms decorating the metal plating sit inside of the small box that Steve had handed to you. It was beautiful. It was you. And not to mention… it perfectly matched your outfit.

“Shut up!” You gasp, picking up the chain from the safety of its box and dangling it in front of Steve’s face, the neon stream of lights from the party reflect off of its pristine surface, “Steve!! What the Hell? This is stunning!” You become a fit of excited girlish giggles and Steve shakes his head at your outburst, finding it adorable.

“You like it?” He is booming to be heard over the increasingly loud music and you squeal, fumbling with the latch on the chain.

“Like it? I love it! Thank you so much!” You reach around your neck, fighting to clip the necklace and Steve offers you a helping hand accompanied by an amused chucklez, “It’s perfect, Steve, truly! I love it, I love it!” You brush your hair over your shoulder, allowing Steve to access the chain and clasp it securely.

“There! Pretty as a picture.” He winks at you and you toy with your name displayed across your chest; an honest smile gracing your lips.

“Happy birthday.” His large palm rubs the flesh of your shoulder and you nod at him in acknowledgement. There is an after glow that lingers after Steve’s touch disappears and you are not even aware of where he wanders off to but when you realise that you are stood alone… you feel that all too familiar feeling start to creep it’s way back into your chest. An icy chill. A storm brewing.

“Steve?” You call out to him, however your voice is wasted with how small it was and goes totally unnoticed. Your eyes drink in the sea of dancing, sweating bodies around you. The number of people in your home is multiplying— like a deathly virus.

The perky smile falls from your cheeks and only then do you remember why you were even talking to Steve in the first place— you wanted some weed. You needed some.

Or did you?

You wanted to escape life. To feel free from the bounds of Eddie Munson, free from the shackles of your mind. This is the only way you knew how… sleep wasn’t an option— he could reach you there.

Even the darkest corners of your mind, where even the ghosts refused to venture, were haunted by Eddie— there was no fleeing from him. You were his.

But he was Chrissy’s.

-

You find yourself outside, sitting in the cool night air by the side of your house. Your face is flushed from the alcohol and your skin feels as though it is prickling with heat; fiery.

Your mini skirt hugs your hips and thighs and you fist the fabric, suddenly uncomfortable with the way your body looks in the garment. The way the flesh of your thighs squish the ground beneath you has you stifling a scream and you wrap your arms tightly around your torso to shield the rest of your body from the world.

Your eyes flicker and blaze with the mirrored light from the street lamps, the orange hues meeting the chunky glitter that dominates your eyelids. The heavy makeup was starting to irritate your eyes, but you would do anything to seem half presentable. Anything to feel and look your best.

A choked laugh emits past your lips; it was ludicrous. How you had been exiled from your own birthday party. Left to the wolves of the wild. You didn’t mind too much— it meant you could finally take off this weighty mask you had been hiding behind all night. No more untruthful smiles, no more biting back teary eyes.

You could finally feel. And breathe.

However, your reign of peace and solitude doesn’t last long as your ears perk involuntarily at an all too recognisable thundering chuckle. This whole time, you had been preparing for him to show face and yet you have never felt so startled. A deer in headlights.

The chains around your wrists tighten as you stiffen, unable to move. Unable to respond or breathe or think.

Eddie had arrived.

“Woooah! Lookie’ here! If it isn’t the birthday girl,” Even in the dim light of the garden you can see his Cheshire smile examining you, “What you doing out here all alone, Sweetheart?”

Your breath remains lodged tightly in your throat, wound up like a coiled spring and you are unable to speak. It’s almost as if you are paralysed— has he hit you with a tranquillising dart? Or was that just his cologne that had you so wrapped up in everything that he is.

He called you sweetheart…

He called you sweetheart.

Sweetheart.

His sweetheart?

“Hello? Are you okay?” His hand waves in front of your face, causing you to blink and flinch momentarily at the sudden action, “Aren’t you cold out here?”

“No…” a whisper is all you could manage. It’s all you could afford to give him.

There wasn’t much of you left to give. Soon you would be this vacant polished shell of a human being— beautiful on the outside and hopeless on the inside.

“Okay, well… Happy birthday.” He nods at you enthusiastically, his voice like a siren song lulling you to your demise. He shoves his hands into his ripped jeans pockets, letting out an exaggerated shiver before he says, “Hey, have you seen Chrissy? She came here an hour ago and I haven’t really heard from her.” He tries to disguise the worry in his voice, but you can read him like a book. The way his hands are twitching from his pockets to rub anxiously at his neck, or how he bounces on the balls of his feet— the adrenaline causing him to be restless.

You wish Eddie could do the same with you. You wish he could see past this makeup and this charade. You wish he could recognise just how much that simple sentence had ruined your evening.

Of course he was here looking for Chrissy, why else would he have showed up? For you? Please. The thought alone was laughable.

“I didn’t even know she was here.” Your chin tilts to your shoulder where you can eye the large window looking on into your kitchen. The lights are out but there are neon fairy lights twinkling and illuminating the darkness. It’s almost as if you are looking through a kaleidoscope.

It had taken you hours to hang all of those lights, only to watch other people enjoy their warmth instead.

“You should come back inside, you don’t seem like you’re having a lot of fun out here in the dark.” Eddie takes a leisurely seat next to you and out of instinct you shuffle a few inches away from him, trying to create as much distance as possible, “Are you wasted? You’re being eerily quiet.”

“It’s a party, Eddie.” You sigh, answering him without leaving a single beat, an abrupt newfound confidence helps you to untangle your voice, “People get drunk at parties— I just wish I had some weed.”

It was ironic, wishing for weed as you talk to a weed dealer.

“Is that really your birthday wish? To have weed?” His shoulders bounce lightly as he laughs, his hands coming to find his coat pocket. You shrug in response to his question, tipping your head back and swallowing the last of what was left swirling around in the bottom of your cup.

The truth was, you hadn’t even lit your birthday candles yet. There hadn’t been a right time and you didn’t want to be that person. But if you had sparked those candles… you would have wished for him.

Not for weed. Not for money. Not for beauty or brains.

You would have wished for Eddie Munson.

“Here.” He is careful to take your hand into his, gently prying your fingers open and dropping a bud of weed into your palm before he is securing your fingers back over it, “It isn’t much, I know that but… if I could make your birthday wish a reality then I suppose that’s pretty alright, huh?” He holds your wrist loosely in his grip and your fuzzy brain can’t compute if you are dreaming or not.

You had expected fireworks from his touch— a massive explosion of technicolour and bright blinding lights.

But what you got was far more sensual than that. An electric shockwave travelled along your skin from your arm to your back, zapping down every vertebrae in your spine and coating your body in a blanket of goosebumps. Every single one of your hairs stood on end and this might have been the most alert you have felt all day. You felt awake. Resurrected. Alive.

“Are you sure?” You gulp, mouth suddenly dry, “I can pay you…” You start to frantically search your person for any sign of loose cash— your bra, did your skirt have pockets this morning? No. Where the Hell is your purse?

“No- no! This is a gift, from me to you! It’s your birthday for crying out loud!” Eddie is holding both of your wrists now, his attempt to still your nervous jittery movements, “Just enjoy it, okay? Just… just smile.” His deep pleading voice is painful as it enters your ears.

Just smile.

Smile? Weren’t you smiling?

“Thank you…” up until this point you hadn’t fully perceived just how close of a proximity you and Eddie were nestled at. His slight body leaning in closer to yours, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. He was within kissing distance and all you could do now was stare at his dimpled smile. The sight alone was enough to cause your own lips to tweak up at the corners.

“Do you know how to roll a joint?” Eddie could evidently sense the growing tension and he pulls away from you, not in a moment of disgust and terror— but out of respect. Attraction was clear but Eddie was like a loyal dog to Chrissy. There’s no way he would betray her.

“Oh- uhm… no, no I don’t.” You laugh slightly as you look down at the drugs held captive in your hand. Your skin being tinged with the ponging smell.

“Luckily for you, I’m a bit of a master at it.”

“Eddie?” A whimper. A whisper. Weak. Sorrow filled.

“Yeah?” His heavenly eyes had you questioning why thieves ever bothered to steal art— when you were looking at a masterpiece.

A pause. Nothingness. Expectation. Shadows.

“Why do you hate me?” The question is shuddered out through constricted teeth and you find an ungodly comfort in that familiar ache inside of your sternum, “You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you-“

“But you don’t love me. You don’t… like me.” You push your feet into the soft earth, coming to stand shakily in front of Eddie’s seated frame, “Every time I look at you, I can't help but hope you feel the same butterflies in your stomach when you look back at me.” Your eyes settle on the empty street, the only noise circulating the neighbourhood was coming from inside your house. Thumping bass beating in harmony with your heart, “But deep down, I know all you feel is pity."

“That isn’t true and you’re being cruel.” Eddie launches to his feet, darting to stand in front of you, “Where is this coming from? If I have hurt you, I assure you that it was never my intention— I could never hurt you purposely.”

“You didn’t have to purposely hurt me, Ed’s. All I had to do was sit back and watch you love someone else. Someone better than me… that was enough to break my spirit.”

A disruption shakes the interior of your house, a commotion surfacing and you can hear the cheers and whistles from your peers. Eddie clocks it as well, and you can see a panic distort his puppy like features.

“Please can we talk about this tomorrow, when you’re sober and… and we can both just figure this out? Please?” His hands find your shoulders, holding you steady as his chocolate orbs bear into yours. His attention is on you, but you can tell that his feet are ready to sprint indoors.

Quietly, you nod. Anything to please him. Anything to make him happy. Plus— you were also intrigued as to what was happening behind in you. Whatever it was, it had stirred up a whirlwind.

Eddie is quick to leave your side, like a whippet released onto a race track, taking the porch steps two at a time and you are hot on his heels. You are clumsy in your kitten heeled shoes, but you are right behind him.

‘I’ll follow thee and make a Heaven of a Hell.

To die upon the hand I love so well.’

William Shakespeare, Helena

-

“What’s going on?” You stagger into the shoulder of a Frat member, whispering an inaudible apology as he turns to glare down at you. Though, after he takes in your appearance his solid and annoyed expression softens into amusement and what you can only assume as blind lust.

“Harrington and Cunningham got caught banging in the bathroom— can’t believe you missed it! It was fucking priceless.” He drapes his heavy muscular arm over your shoulders and your knees nearly buckle beneath you at his weight pressing down on you.

“What?” You peek up at him through your eyelashes, clearly dazed. You have to make sure— you have to hear him say it again.

“Cunningham? Chrissy?” He is laughing rudely into your face and your nose scrunches distastefully at the stench of beer on his breath, “And Steve Harrington! They were fucking! He had her bent over the bathroom sink, man! His hands full of her hair— pretty sure the mirror is gonna be covered in lipstick!” Finally he unhooks his arm from around your neck and you feel like you may just float up to the ceiling.

You push away from him, using his massive hulking body to propel you further into the mob, your eyes desperate to find Eddie in the crowd. And when you do… it’s ugly.

Anguish, rage, indecision and fear blaze in Eddie’s tear glossed eyes. The gears inside of his head were working like clockwork and you knew where this was about to go as he stares murderously at Steve. Jaw wired tightly shut, nostrils flaring into bullet sized holes and fists so punishingly rigid that you can see the bones of his knuckles straining against his skin; turning his skin to a snow like shade of white.

Steve descends from the top of the staircase alone. His hair is tossed into a messy heap upon his sweat soaked head and you can read from his slumped and lazy stance alone that Steve is totally gone. His hands grasp the bannister, clinging onto the wood for dear life in hopes that he won’t fall down the steep steps.

“Eddie- no, don’t do it!” You try to move toward him as quickly as your boozy brain would allow, but it’s too late. Eddie is flying toward Steve like a bat out of Purgatory.

Time appears to speed up as you watch the violence unfold in front of you alongside the rest of chanting crowd. Eddie has smashed Steve against the wall by the collar of his shirt and you swear you hear some sort of cracking noise come from concrete from the connection of Steve’s back hurling into the plasterboard.

“Fuck! Guys, stop it!” Not only are you terrified of Steve getting beat to a pulp— but your parents would kick you out of the house if things got tarnished beyond repair. And that includes the paint work.

A brutish punch thrown by Eddie bursts Steve’s cheek open and you squeal in horror at the stream of pure gore that spurts from the gnarly wound, “Jesus Christ, Eddie!!” Marching up the staircase you wedge yourself between the two men and Eddie’s movements still. He allowed himself one punch. One good punch, as a warning and also as a courtesy. He didn’t want to frighten you and he also didn’t want to take advantage of Steve’s inebriated state.

One punch is all he needed to satisfy the sickening anger bubbling within him.

And then he fled— like a killer at a crime scene.

“Eddie! Wait- fuck!!” You curse, your hands finding your hair as you tug on the roots of the delicate strands. You are beyond stressed. All you can do is watch as Eddie weaves his way through the mosh pit of bodies who had all quickly gone back to dancing— like nothing had happened.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Steve blubbers next to you and you turn to him, your eyes widened with shock and distress but it doesn’t take long for your glare to become vexing.

“What did you do, Harrington?! If you weren’t already bleeding right now I would slap you in your goddamn face!” Your grip on him is scolding and hurried as you manage to help him down to rest on one of the wooden steps, your eyes unable to waver from the crimson leaking gash on his face.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” His face rests in his hands as he breathes deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. And just as you prepare to give him a bollocking of a life time, Chrissy emerges from sanctuary of the top floor, desperately trying to rescuer her bra straps back onto your shoulders. Her clothes are twisted sloppily around her body and she, too, is undoubtedly, totally, 110% fucking hammered.

Both your and the blondes eyes meet and your lips pinch downwards into a frown. Your head shakes disapprovingly and your mind is clouded with nervy thoughts for Eddie’s wellbeing and all you can conjure up to say to the dishevelled woman is;

“How the fuck did this happened?”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae

[kitchen-spoon]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[unamused-boss]

The Player and The Cheerleader

Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader Reader

Summary: All Billy thinks cheerleading is that's it's just flips and splits. The view changes when he has a run in with a certain Hawkins High School cheerleader.

...........................................................................

Billy didn't care for anyone by any means. Either it be in Indiana or California. If he doesn't see you as someone worth his time then he didn't talk to you or give you the time of day. One of those groups in specific were cheerleaders. From his point of view they were only pretty girls to look at, that's pretty much how everyone treated the cheerleader at this point. Pretty things to look at.

The cheerleaders sometimes had to share the gym with the basketball team. Which did peeve some the guys on the team but as long as the cheerleaders were pretty they could handle it. But there was one odd ball on the cheer team, the captain. Always mouthing off the players when they got to close to the cheerleaders or a ball got to close to hitting one of them.

"Hey! Shit for brains!" A voice can be heard from then other side of the gym. "I thought the point of the game was to get the ball in the basket?!"

"Jeezu..." Tommy huffed. "Can you seriously be pissed about the same thing every time? It's just a ball." He answered to you. Clearly tired of your constant shouting at the basketball team when a ball would go the wrong way.

"And it's just balls between your legs, and they can just as easily deflate." You sassed back. To Billy, it was almost comical to watch. You with the tough guy act, puffing up your chest to a dude way taller than you with colorful pompoms in each hand on your hips.

"What a bitch..." Tommy huffed again.

"Oh get over it." Billy snapped. "What's captain pompoms gonna do?" He laughed at his own statement. Like said before he found the whole conversation comical-

WHAM!

A basketball went flying right into Billy Hargroves head. He snapped his head around to see the who had the nerve to hit him. His eyes met with captain pompoms. The two had a stare off. That's what it felt like for the rest of practice. The two practically eyeing each other the entire time.

After that stunt was over, after constant staring at one another, Billy had only one reaction in mind. A big one.

The next day followed. Billy knew where he could cut you off and corner you, in-between Mr. Johnson's chemistry class and Mrs. Shoffer's English literature class. It happened fast no one could react to it, actually you doubt anyone saw it happen. What you thought was just another normal day of school turned out to be more than that. A harsh hold took your arm, taking you away from the crowd into the more secluded part of the hall. Where you came face to face with a fuming Billy. His jaw was clenched and eyes held anger.

"What, you think you're real funny for the shit you pulled yesterday?" He interrogated. "Try it again see what fuckin happens..." His threats did not stop. Well his empty threats. As much as you are terrified of what he could do, you knew he'd never act on them. Your brave front was standing strong. Taking in every threat, comment, and remark he could throw at you. To get a reaction, if you were a guy you would have answered with your fists at his first remark. But you are not. You are you. You knew the exact thing that would make him even more angry.

" You are nothing but scuff on the gym floor, and that's all you will be."

Billy did not like that one bit. Who does this bitch think she is? His fist rose into the air, readying to strike. The force came down, you felt the air brush past your face, to only make contact with a metal locker. The sound ricocheted through the hall.

You open up your eyes. Now, again, staring at him. Anger was not held in his eyes anymore. If was fear and sadness, to you it was peculiar expression to see on his face. The actions that just happened finally caught up to you, you inhale deeply not knowing you stopped breathing. Everything caught up to you.

SLAP! Your hand came down, striking Billy Hargrove in the face. Hard enough to leave a mark. Not knowing that one had just been healed from another hand. "What the hell is your problem?" You yelled, agitated. "God, you fuckin creep." You make your way back to your class leaving Billy stunned. He didn't know what to do. He has never had someone react to him like that before. It intrigued him. He had an interest in you now.

After that encounter Billy made it his mission yo agitate you as much as possible. I mean, how else are you supposed to show someone you like them. From poking you with a pencil in class, purposefully missing the hoop so the ball bounces into your direction, anything at all just so you could look at him. He was succeeding and he was royally pissing you off. Until on fateful autumn day, everyone had gone home for the day. Except for the extracurriculars that took place after school. Two of those being basketball and cheer practice. Just as the practices were about to start, Billy took notice that you weren't with the cheer team. Which he thought was odd, but instead he chose to go smoke a cigarette before practice. He made his way to the small alley like way that was outside the gym that lead to the track field. And the sight before him made him stop in his tracks. there you stood cheer practice outfit and all with a lit cigarette hanging from your lip.

"I thought cheerleaders didn't smoke?" Billy joked to you, giving you his famous smirk.

"And I thought shit stayed in toilets, but I guess I was wrong since you're here." You said taking a huff of your cig.

"Damn, always ready with a comeback are you?" Billy said, lighting his cigarette.

"Why are you messing with me Hargrove?"

"Ouch, last name basis now sweets?"

"Shut up." You won't deny it, that dumb nickname that he started calling you grew on you. "Is this because of me smacking you?"

"No."

"Was it me hitting you with a basketball?"

"No." He said blankly again.

"Then what is it?"

Billy took a huff of his cigarette then looked you in your eyes. No hate or anger, something you can only describe as adoration.

"I find you interesting." Was his only answer.

"What?" you were confused by this answer. What was so interesting about you that made Billy intrigued. " Your like curious about me or something?"

"Exactly."

"You know curiosity killed the cat, Hargrove." You sassed.

"And satisfaction brought it back, and I am not satisfied yet so get used to me sweets." He said taking his cig a stomping it out onto the ground walking away.

You grumbled at his response, inhaling the last of your cigarette with blushing cheeks. Stomping out your cigarette then making your way into practice. 'Why does this asswipe make me blush'.

...........................................................................

Weeks of this teasing have gone by. Everyday Billy would find a new way to make you mad, blush, or embarrassed to get a reaction out of you. He claimed "It's because you so cute." Which made you blush even more. Gosh, you couldn't stand half of the guys at this school. Why was Billy the only one making you feel this way?

Truth be told, Billy had seen you around way before he had met you. How you walk down the hall with your head held high, looking away in disgust at the "popular" kids, over all not conforming to what a cheerleader is by Hawkins view point. You fought, yelled, got in people faces. Billy love all of it, it made him excited. Excited to talk to you and ask you questions, even ones you deem are stupid. All he wanted to do was to be around you. Damn, he loved it in a way.

Practice had ended for the day leading off into the weekend. A light rain pour had come down, everyone else had a ride to get them home. Everyone except you, well you did but he was running very late. Billy made his way outside to find you standing in the walk way waiting to be picked up. Cigarette hanging from your mouth.

"What are you doing here?" Billy asked.

"Waiting." You simply put.

"Do you want a ride?" He asked.

"No, I have a ride." You said. "But he's running late."

"What your boyfriend?" Billy said, the words had jealousy behind them.

"No." You sighed. "My brother you dipshit."

"oh..." He sighed. A silence fell between you two. Not uncomfortable, but nice enough for you two to be around each other. But Billy had something building in his stomach, a nervous feeling. He hated it. He needed to tell you something.

"Hey." He called to you, you turn your head to face him. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened."

"What?" You were confused by what he just said.

"I said I'm sorry, did you not hear me?" Billy said, He turned his body to face you. "I said I'm sorry." You just stood there silent. Still taking in the fact he is saying sorry. "I'm sorry that I almost punched you into a locker. I realized I was acting like someone I didn't want to be, and you calling me on my shit. It made me look at you differently. I noticed more about you. How you always make sure the other cheerleaders are okay, how you genuinely care about the people you have around you, and you don't take any shit. And- shit I'm bad at this." He's now embarrassed by everything he just said. Heat rises to his cheeks and ears.

You step toward him, placing your hand on his arm. "I thought you were doing pretty well." You smiled, comforting him in a way. He just looked at you. You never smiled at him directly but now that your smile was intended for him. 'damn' He wants you to smile at him all the time.

"Do you want to go on a date?" He asked straight out. You were shocked by his forwardness, but not entirely surprised.

"You want to go on a date with me?"

"Hell yeah, why wouldn't I?" He made it seem like you were speaking a different language. "Listen one date is all I ask, her if you still think I'm a piece of shit I'll stop everything that I'm doing."

Your smile grew even wider. "I would love to go on a date with you Billy."

"Dang, back on first name basis already? Looks like I'm getting a second date already." He joked to you, in turn caused you to laugh.

For the remainder of your time you and Billy talked till you had been picked up. You both talked about anything and everything. It was pure bliss, you loved every second of it. You both were abruptly interrupted by the honking of your brothers car.mYou said your goodbyes to make your way to the car. The smile that held your face did not drop. I didn't drop on Billy's either, when getting home Max found it incredibly disturbing to see her step brother so giddy.

That following night Billy arrived to your house to take you on your promised date. Which one date turned into another and another and another. Till it reached throughout the whole school that Billy Hargrove and the cheer captain were finally official. With many guys questioning Billy as to why he picked you out of everyone, to which he said if they insulted you again he had no problem with dealing with them himself. Girls just snuffed their noses up to you since you now made Billy officially off the market. Not like you cared, he's your boyfriend now and you have him all to yourself. So you could say everything did work out in the end. You and Billy have each other.

"So I guess we have Tommy to thank since he is the reason we met?" You joked.

"Hell no, I would have went after you even if you didn't hit me with that basket ball." He smirk.

"Jeez, you are something Billy." You smiled, leaning into him to seal your lips in a kiss. Yeah, nothing could beat this.

..........................................................................

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

one chance

111 words | T | for @steddiemicrofic's july challenge "one"

here's the text! without the names/usernames, it's 111 words exactly!

Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn what i would give for one (1) chance with king steve.. pls.. i promise id blow your muind chris c. @/86theham uhmmm.. chris c. @/86theham eddie, sweetie, this isn’t your priv Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn can you come over and kill me dead? It’ll only take a sec… ok cool. thanks

Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn what i would give for one (1) chance with king steve.. pls.. i promise id blow your muind Robert M. Buckley III @/bobin 👀 Robert M. Buckley III @/bobin @/steveharrington Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn i hate you

Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn what i would give for one (1) chance with king steve.. pls.. i promise id blow your muind steeb @/steveharrington open my dm munson Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn no steeb @/steveharrington fine. be there in 5 Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn ???!!!

Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn what i would give for one (1) chance with king steve.. pls.. i promise id blow your muind Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn update:

[hairmetal666]

Closing shifts at Scoops Ahoy are always boring, but Robin took off early to study and nobody is coming in for ice cream at 8pm on a school night in mid-winter. Steve's alone and has been for the last forty-five minutes, with no end in sight.

He's doing tricks with his scooper, counting how many times he can twist it through his fingers without dropping it (57 so far), when the most beautiful man Steve has ever seen, walks in. He's got long dark hair that falls in perfect curls around his shoulders; wide eyes the same deep brown of fresh, dark coffee; and the most perfect plump mouth.

Steve can't move, his head going fuzzy. His eyes catch on the man's chest--visible through the black mesh tank top he's wearing-- revealing tantalizing swirls of black ink and the glint of silver bars through each nipple. The guy also has on leather pants that cling to the line of his legs like a second skin.

Jesus. Steve just realized he's bi and the physical embodiment of his wet dreams walks into the store like it's nothing. He's going to die.

The man rushes to the counter, his eyes finally falling on Steve, and it's like his feet get caught on each other for a second before he struts forward. His face melts into this heart-stopping smile, bringing out the cutest set of dimples Steve has ever seen. This is it, Steve is done for, time of death, 8:06pm.

"Ahoy, sailor," the man says with a mischievous glint in those dark eyes.

He returns the smile and somewhere, somehow, finds the words to reply, "I think that's my line."

Steve leans towards the counter, but in doing so, drops the scooper hanging from his fingers. The metallic clatter is harsh against the tile, and blood rushes to his cheek. "Whoops," he mumbles. He ducks down to retrieve it, mentally kicking himself for his clumsiness.

The man's smile only grows, and now there's a faint flush across his pale cheeks. And fuck if Steve can't help but smile right back, to let their eye contact linger.

"What can I get you?" He asks. His voice is way too low for regular customer service, and if he flutters his eyelashes too--well, that's between him and the USS Butterscotch.

"I know this is ridiculous. It's late and it's starting to snow," the man says. He leans over the counter. "But I need a strawberry shake to go."

"Strawberry shake, good choice," Steve nods. "Coming right up."

They don't stop looking at each other or smiling as he blends up the drink, and when he hands the cup over, their fingers brush, linger, both their faces staining red.

"How much do I owe you?" he asks.

Steve shakes his head. "On the house."

"You really know how to charm a guy, sailor-boy."

"Maybe I'm hoping to see you again."

"Depends," the man says. His smile widening, his dimples getting somehow deeper.

"On?"

"How good this shake is." He winks.

Steve thinks he might burst into flame before the man can taste the drink, but then the guy glances at his watch and curses. "Sorry, sweetheart, I gotta run. Been a pleasure, sailor."

And with that, he runs from the store, strawberry shake clutched in his long-fingered grasp.

Steve collapses against the counter, burying his face in his hands. He's not ever gonna recover from that.

---

Eddie's guitar is in his lap, his melted strawberry shake at his side. He can't get the guy from the ice cream shop out of his head.

Fuck, he had all that perfect hair under that silly little hat; his face dotted with cute little moles and freckles; eyes that flashed from honey to gold to green flecked hazel; and the poutiest, most perfect lips ever had Eddie seen. Not to mention how he looked bent over in those itty bitty shorts. Shit, if he isn't totally done for.

He can't stop smiling.

That is until a guitar pick hits him right in the forehead, dragging his attention back to his surroundings.

"Earth to Eddie," their manager, Chrissy, says. "You go on in ten minutes."

"Don't tell me you didn't get the stupid shake." Gareth shakes his head.

"No, I got it. Not to worry."

"Then what's up with you?" Jeff asks.

Eddie can't help the huge, stupid smile that illuminates his face.

"There was a guy," Eddie sighs.

Chrissy and his bandmates share a look. "Let me guess," Gareth says. "You walked in and he was like 'Oh, Mr. Munson. Let me get you ice cream, let me suck your dick. Oooh, you're so hot. Corroded Coffin is my favorite band.'"

"C'mon, no. I don't even think he knew who I was."

At one point, that would've bothered him. But now, after five years of hooking up with dudes who were only interested in famous Eddie Munson, he likes that the guy from the ice cream parlor seemed totally oblivious. That, when his eyes lit up with interest, it was for genuine attraction and not name recognition.

"Did you get his number?" Chrissy asks.

He slumps. "No."

His friends all groan. Another guitar pick flies at him, getting caught up in his curls.

"Well, you'll go back tomorrow. Now get your head in the game, Munson! You have a sold out stadium to play!"

---

"I'm not kidding you, Robs, he was the hottest guy I've ever seen. I didn't even know dudes could be that beautiful."

"Uh-huh," she says.

"You're not even listening." He jabs her in the ribs, making her squeak.

"Sorry, sorry," she bats his hands away. "Describe him again?"

And he does, leaving nothing out. Once he's done, Robin is gaping at him, gum about to fall out of her open mouth.

"What?"

She grabs his wrist, dragging him out of the store.

"Robin, what are you doing? We're supposed to be working!"

She doesn't answer, just hauls him to the record store down the hall.

"Was it this guy?" She asks. She's out of breath.

"What?"

"Steve! Was it him?" She gestures to a new release display and it's Steve's turn for speechlessness.

He's surrounded of images of the man from last night; on magazines, CDs, cassettes, on a couple posters hanging on display. He's with a couple of other guys, they're in a band called Corroded Coffin, but all Steve can see is deep brown eyes and plush lips, the bright dimples.

"Well?" Robin demands.

"Yeah," he nods. "That's him."

"Oh my god!" Robin screams. She grabs his arm and squeezes. "You flirted with Eddie Munson! Steve! You minx!"

"It was nothing," he blushes. "He's probably got someone already, anyway. I mean, look at him."

Robin makes a little face. "There are some rumors, but nothing serious."

"It was a nice dream," he says. He gives her a little smile. "Now, let's get back to work."

She loops her arm through his. "Whatever you say, dingus."

---

It's been a long day of slinging ice cream. Maybe Robin's revelation that the cute guy from the night before was an insanely famous rockstar is to blame, but Steve is exhausted.

"Hey, dingus!" Robin calls from the front.

"Yeah?" he mumbles.

"Some guy is here for you. He looks a lot like Eddie Munson."

She's not even finished with her sentence before Steve is vaulting back behind the counter, coming face-to-face with the man of his dreams.

Eddie's gorgeous, his face already flushed a faint pink. And just like the night before, Steve can't help but smile at the man before him, who dimples up immediately in return.

He forgets that Robin is there until she says, "Go get 'em, tiger," and snaps him in the chest with a towel.

With Robin gone, they still don't say anything for a second, both smiling and blushing and staring at each other.

"So, uh, I guess you're wondering why I'm back today."

"That's easy," Steve says. "It was the best strawberry milkshake you ever had."

Eddie laughs with his head back and Steve is stuck staring at the long lines of his throat.

"Well, it was the best, no question. Made me realize I was a fool not to ask for your number."

Somehow Steve's smile grows. He jots his name and number on a Scoops napkin, passing it to Eddie who does the same, before carefully ripping the paper in half.

"We're still on tour for the next three months, but I'll call you when I can?"

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Talk soon, sweetheart," Eddie leans into Steve's space, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Steve still has a hand resting on the spot when Robin re-emerges.

"Oooh, you've got it sooo bad," she sing-songs.

He's so happy, he can't even bother to shush her.

---

Corroded Coffin has a new album out. It's a huge hit, number ones across the board, a fixture on MTV. It's full of heavy metal love songs, sales bolstered by the rumors that Eddie's been in a secret relationship for years.

They're at the Grammys, nominated for Best Metal Performance. The band has moved on down the red carpet, but Eddie's still answering questions, their assistant waiting with him. The interviewer asks Eddie, "There's a lot of speculation about your romantic life because of this album. There are rumors that the song 'Sailor Boy' is in reference to how you met your lover. Will you tell fans about the person you're dating, the one who inspired the album?"

"No," Eddie smiles for the camera. "But oh, do I love the way he moans," he sings a lyric of the song in question before giving the interviewer a lascivious wink, and continuing on down the carpet.

Years later, after Eddie and Steve are comfortably out and married and Corroded Coffin has cemented themselves in metal history, the video of that interview will be uploaded to YouTube.

It's obvious, now, the way Eddie and Steve, the "assistant", gravitate towards each other. How Steve flushes a pretty crimson that spreads below the collar of his shirt as Eddie sings. The way Eddie smirks at him with a raised eyebrow. The way his hand cradles the small of Steve's back as they walk away together.

It causes a frenzy online, fans compiling blog posts and videos of moments of Steve and Eddie being totally obvious about being in love before the world knew that they were.

Eventually, Steve posts a photo to the band's webpage. It's of him and Eddie at Scoops Ahoy. He's wearing his uniform, and Eddie is in a faded Metallica t-shirt and ripped jeans. They stand at the counter with their arms around each other, smiling hard, eyes locked. He captions it with, "putting the sailor boy allegations to rest."

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

{ soooo.... @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe reblogged ONE werewolf post and mentioned steddie in the tags and then... this... happened. It was all spur of the moment with no planning so if you see mistakes and/or plot holes... no you don't. 😬💖 }

Warnings: Billy Hargrove, blood, wound tending, violence, if it needs anymore let me know. ✌🏻

🍒🍒🍒

"I'm completely serious." Eddie says, feet kicked up on.... someone's coffee table. He doesn't remember who's party it is. Jeff nods agreeably next to him, sinking further into the couch.

"No. You've gotta be fucking joking. That would not-" Gareth tries to argue. Eddie cuts him off immediately.

"No seriously. I need a werewolf to take one look at me and go 'I'll have that.' Then claim me as their mate and never let me go." Eddie sighs, the hellfire boys erupting in chaos around him.

Normally, Eddie would join in, cause a ruckus. But he'd frozen after he'd spoken. His eyes glued to one Steve Harrington. Who had been taking a drink and promptly choked on said drink, his eyes wide when they landed on Eddie, beer or some other liquid dribbling down his chin as his cheeks flushed.

He was all the way in the kitchen, his friend Robin chattering away next to him, now wiping at his face. There's no way he could have heard Eddie. Not over the music, and the house full of shouting drunken teenagers.

Eddie watches as he finally tears his eyes away. He watches Steve grab Robin's wrist and yank her out of sight. If Eddie's lip reading was as good as it used to be, he'd said something along the lines of: "Robin. We need to go. Now."

But that didn't make any sense. Eddie was just joking. And Steve was all the way in the other room. Eddie sunk down into the couch, ignoring the way his stomach turned when he heard the front door open and close. There was no fucking way he heard him.

No fucking way.

Unless.

~°~

"Steve Harrington. Is not a werewolf. What the fuck are you even saying?" Gareth was nearly yelling now. They'd been having this conversation for almost an hour and it seemed he was at his wits end.

"Yes he is Gare! Yes he is! I would swear on it." Eddie shouts back, pointing at his friend from his position on the floor, his feet up on the couch next to Jeff. His toes wiggling under his arm every now and again to get warm.

"Swear on what!?" Gareth shrieked, his hands flailing into the air next to his head.

"Werewolves aren't real!" His voice is so squeaky now the neighbors dog has started barking.

"Jeff. Eric. You guys really not gonna help me with this?" He begs, holding his hands out to them, pleading.

"I mean..." Eric drawls, scratching at his ear.

"What?" Gareth asks, eyes narrowed.

"Maybe they are.... There was that thing with Chrissy." Eric says, his voice lilting as he looks in Jeff's direction.

"No. No no no no. We are not talking about that again either. Jeff did not see Chrissy Cunningham drinking blood." Gareth huffs, so frustrated now his face is turning red.

"I know what I saw." Jeff says with a shrug, his hand moving to Eddie's calf and rubbing it rapidly, trying to warm his cold leg for him. Eddie smiled at him and then looked back up at Gareth from the floor.

"He knows what he saw Gare. Chrissy is a fucking vampire. And Steve. Steve Harrington is a fucking werewolf. Possibly. The love of my life. Though that may be a tad unlikely. Given that he almost definitely doesn't like boys." Eddie pouts, and then startles when Gareth stomps over to look straight down at him.

"Oh is it? Is it unlikely because he doesn't like boys? Not because there's no such thing as FUCKING WEREWOLVES!?" Gareth full on yells it. His hands fisting in his hair.

"Gareth Eugene!" His mothers voice calls down the stairs.

"Sorry mom!" He yells back, turns on Jeff and Eddie when the laugh.

"It's not fucking funny. This is ridiculous. You're all ridiculous. It's not real. Fuck you guys." He hisses, keeping his voice low. Jeff and Eddie look at each other, then to Eric, all of them smile and shout,

"Gareth Eugene!" In unison. Gareth screams at them, tosses a few empty chip bags at them and throws himself into the emtpy chair next to Eric.

"You all sound, insane. You know that right?" He asks, sounding calm, and genuine again. Eddie shrugs, Eric laughs.

"Maybe you just need to open your mind?" Jeff suggests, brushing chip crumbs from his shirt.

"Open my mind? To vampires and werewolves?" He asks, arms crossed over his chest with a huff.

"Yes. Because if they exist. And mine and Jeff's crushes are one of each. Ugh. Shit." Eddie curses, his shoulder bumping the small table as he rights himself, slides his legs off the couch and kneels by the table instead.

"We could literally live our dreams." Eddie pleads, his fingers laced in front of him.

"Your dream. I don't have a dream about dating a vampire. Just dating Chrissy." He sighs, his eyes going glassy. Eddie waves him off, not even looking at him.

"I could literally live my dream. My dream of having a smoking hot werewolf boyfriend who wants to mark me and breed me and keep me forever." Eddie whines, Eric and Gareth both groaning at Eddie's details. Jeff gives no reaction, lost in  his thoughts about  Chrissy.

"You're crazy man. There are not secret supernatural creatures all over Hawkins. Is the whole basketball team werewolves? Is this fucking Teen Wolf? You think Steve is just gonna wolf out at the next game?" Gareth asks, his voice rising again. Eddie plops down onto his butt, elbows resting on the little table, chin in his hands.

"God that'd be great wouldn't it?" He sighs, eyes focusing over Eric's head like he can see it.

"Hey!" Gareth snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face.

"Rude." Eddie swats at his hand.

"And who's next? Huh? Tommy and Carol? That dick Hargrove?" Gareth shoves a chip into his mouth chewing angrily. Eddie grimaces.

"Hargrove is not supernatural." Eddie shakes his head.

"He's a supernatural dick. Like... his asshole levels are way off the charts." Jeff chimes in, sinking to the floor next to Eddie and taking a swig of Eddie's mountain dew, Eddie nods in agreement.

"Yeah. He's definitely a peice of shit. But not in a supernatural way. Probably good. Honestly. Can you imagine?" Eddie's nose scrunches before he takes a drink as well. Even Gareth groans in agreement.

It's quiet for a moment. None of them talking. The occasional chip crunching or bag rustling, the pop of a soda can being opened. All of them just sitting, thinking, loudly, but in silence. And then Gareth breaks it, and his steadfast denial of it all.

"Okay. But seriously, if they're were vampires and werewolves in Hawkins we'd know about it! That's not something that could be kept secret." His voice is low now, his eyes moving over the boys around him.

"Is it?" He asks, looking slightly worried.

"I dunno. This town does have a long history of unexplained animal attacks." Eric chimes in, the three other heads in the room turn to look at him, slowly.

"What? I like history." He defends. They all go quiet again, for longer.

Eddie moving a few things here and there on the table. Jeff moving them right back just to frustrate him. Both of them slapping at each other. It devolves into a small wrestling match that Eddie wins by going completely limp on top of Jeff.

"Okay." Gareth breaks the silence again. Eddie and Jeff shuffle around, separating themselves from each other, ending up in the opposite spots as before, they notice, frown at each other, and then shrug, looking to Gareth again.

"Okay?" They ask, at the same time.

"Okay." Gareth nods, but holds his finger up at them. Their brows raised on their foreheads as they wait.

"But Steve Harrington. Is not cool enough. To be a fucking werewolf."

~°~

One week, three days, and ten hours later. The morning after the full moon. Eddie nearly hits Steve Harrington with his van.

Rain is pouring from the sky, his wipers on high, barely helping. He's heading for school, Wayne had sent him off on time after a nice plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

He didn't have any tests or quizzes today. And he'd actually remembered to do his homework. The morning was going well.

That's when the body appeared in the road just past his vision. He slammed on the breaks and had never been so happy that he'd been ripped off and over paid for new breakpads last month. The van skids to a halt, his headlights shining on the person, the naked person, in the road.

"What the fuck?" Eddie breathed. He slammed the van into park, grabbed the keys out, and jumped out into the pouring rain. He stopped, grabbed a blanket out of the back, that normally covered Gareth's drums when they traveled, and ran around the front of the van.

"Holy shit." Eddie felt like he'd been punched.

"Hi Eddie." Steve Harrington, naked, wet, waving up at him with a wiggly fingered wave, and holy shit was that blood.

"Is that blood?" Eddie blurts, his hands already shaking.

"Yeah." Steve says, like it's fine, like it's normal.

"Shit did I hit you?" Eddie falls to his knees, holds the blanet out to Steve. He eyes it, looks back to Eddie.

"You're naked." He says. Steve closes his eyes, sighs.

"Right. Thanks." He grabs the blanket, drags it around his waist as he tries to stand. The second he puts pressure on his leg he starts to fall again. Eddie ducks under his arm and catches him. Doing his best to ignore the way Steve's warm, wet, skin feels under his hands.

"Hospital?" He asks, helping Steve to the passenger door. Steve levels him with a look that tells him he should know better.

"Right. Okay. Sorry. Jeez. You just- You're bleeding kind of a lot dude." Eddie huffs, helps Steve into the van and grabs a towel from the glovebox.

His brows furrowed, he presses it to the very large fucking hole, in Steve's leg. He doesn't even flinch, his eyes locked on Eddie, and his slow, gentle movements. Steve's hand settling over his makes his whole body jerk.

"Thanks. I can do that." Steve says, softly. Eddie doesn't let go.

"You gotta put pressure on it." He says, eyes locked on the red seeping into the towel.

"I will." Steve nods, squeezes Eddie's wrist, trying to get his attention.

"Eddie?" He squeezes again, Eddies eyes move up his arm to his face.

"Yeah?" His eyes are wide.

"We gotta get outta here." Steve's own eyes widen, waiting for Eddie to understand. It doesn't take long. He whips his head around, trying to see into the trees around them, his hair completely soaked now, his bangs drooping into his eyes.

"Shit. Okay." He nods, turns back to Steve, hands over the towel to him and nods again.

"Okay. I got it." He says, not sure if he's talking to himself or Steve. Steve nods, fucking smiles, at him, and lets him shut the door.

Eddie runs around the van, jumps back in, starts her up, gets her turned around carefully, and drives.

"Did someone shoot you man?" Eddie asks after a moment, Steve groans as he presses the towel to his leg, hard, his knuckles going white.

"Yep. Sure did." Steve sounds... nonplussed. Like it's just, a normal fucking Tuesday. Which it isn't. It's very much not a normal Tuesday. Because Steve Harrington got shot. And now he's in Eddie's van bleeding. And besides all that it's fucking Friday.

Eddie's hands tense on the wheel, his own knckles white now as well. He's nodding. Just absently. His head knows Steve answered him, can't seem to from words to make his own answer just yet.

"You okay Eddie?" Steve asks, tugging the blanket around his waist more with his free hand. Eddie just keeps nodding.

"Where are you taking me?" Steve asks, seems to realize he wasn't going to get an answer to the previous question.

"Home." Is all Eddie says. He glances to his right, Steve's eyes are on him.

"Wayne'll know what to do. He'll help." Eddie nods, his eyes back on the road.

"He'll help." He says again, to no one in particular. Steve nods, bites his lip when pain shoots through his leg, doesn't quite manage to stiffle the groan of pain.

"Who fucking shot you Steve?" It's the first time he's used Steve's name, maybe ever, to his face at least. Steve snorts, it sounds like a laugh.

"Fucking Hargrove." He grunts, presses harder on his leg. Eddie's head whips to look at him, his wet hair slapping against his face.

"What? Shit. Really?" He asks, rapid fire. Steve closes his eyes and nods.

"Eyes on the road Ed's." Steve's lips turn up in a smile right before Eddie looks away, his eyes are still closed.

"Covered his scent somehow. I didn't smell him. Or hear him. Fucking asshole." Steve slams his fist against the dash, Eddie jumps, his whole body twitching, he refused to acknowledge the yelp that came out of his mouth.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Steve breathes deeply through his nose, like he's trying to stay calm.

"It's okay. I'd be pissed too if Billy Hargrove fucking shot me." Eddie says, quickly, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he can think them. Steve snorts again, and Eddie's sure he is laughing, as well as he can, through the pain.

"Wait, he drives that blue camero right?" Eddie asks, eyes locked on his rear view mirror.

"Yeah. Why?" Steve follows his gaze, then looks into the side mirror.

"Shit." He says, trying to sit up further, or turn around, or something.

"Put the seat back and lay down." Eddie says, his hand pointing across Steve's lap to the little lever on the side.

Steve does as he's told, the seat going nearly flat. Eddie reaches behind his seat and grabs his backpack, sets it genlty in Steve's lap. Anyone passing would just be able to see the top of it.

He pushes his tape back into the tapedeck and cranks the volume. His fingers drumming and his head bobbing to the music as Billy's car rumbles up behind them, fast. Eddie's lucky he even saw it at all in the rain.

He keeps his eyes forward, fingers drumming. Pretends not to notice Hargove's car pull along side him for a moment. He twitches his head to the side, does a double take and then scowls at him, motioning to the open road ahead of them. Clearly telling Hargrove to fucking pass him already.

He does. Flipping Eddie the bird as he goes. He does a u-turn in the middle of the road and speeds back past them, the water from his tires splashing across Eddie's windshield.

He flips the wipers back up and keeps his eyes on Billy's car until it disappears back into the rain. He grabs his bag off Steve's lap and sets it by his feet instead as Steve sits up with a groan. Pulling the lever again so the seat comes with him.

"That was pretty good." Steve sighs, leaning against the window. Eddie turns his music down.

"Don't sound so suprised. I sell drugs man. I have to act natural a lot. Plus, he almost ran me off the road last month, I was pretty sure he'd try and pass me anyway." Eddie shrugs, keeps both hands on the wheel and one eye on the road behind them.

"Why'd he shoot you?" Eddie asks, glancing at Steve and then back to the road. He'd swear Steve was smiling.

"Why do you think?" He asks, sounds tired. Eddie rolls to a stop at a four way, looks over at Steve, down to the towel on his leg soaked with blood. He pulls away slow, they're so close to home now, no need to draw attention.

"He doesn't know it's me, I don't think. Just that he shot a wolf. He's been trying since he got here. Hunting us." Steve sighs, readjustes himself in his seat again.

Eddie swallows, hard, his heart pounding. His knuckles flashing white again as he squeezes the steering wheel. He turns into Forest Hills, his foot that's not on the peddle is shaking now, his knee jumping and jerking.

He pulls up to the trailer slowly, cuts the lights and the engine, and turns slowly in his seat to face Steve.

"You're a werewolf." He exhales into the space between them.

"I'm a werewolf." Steve nods, gives him a pained, toothy, smile. Eddie nods back, keeps nodding, he's lost in it again. The nodding.

Steve's hand patting his cheek snaps him out of it. He jerks again, not used to being touched there, or anywhere, really. He sees Steve pull his hand back, swears he sees hurt in his eyes.

"Sorry. I know it's a lot. But I need to get this bullet out of my leg like, yesterday." Steve sighs, covers the hurt look with another pained smile.

"Right. Yeah. Of course. Hang tight." He pats Steve's knee genlty, hops out of the van, and yells for Wayne.

~°~

They get Steve inside no questions asked. Wayne carries him to the bathroom and sets him on the edge of the tub. Eddie grabs a pair of boxers from his drawer and brings them to Steve.

"Figured you don't wanna be naked while you do that." He shrugs. Steve shrugs back.

"I've done worse things naked." He says, a little smile on his lips. Eddie goes warm all over and nods, bumps into the door frame as he back out of the small room.

He watches Wayne roll his eyes at him. He shakes his head too, crossing his arms over his chest. Eddie mouths 'shut up'at him and goes to kitchen. Wayne walks up beside him while he tries to get Steve's blood out from under his nails.

"Hey." Wayne sets his hand on Eddie's shoulder, he twitches.

"You did good kid. Bringin him here." Wayne's voice is calm. Always calm with Eddie.

He's never heard the man yell, except maybe at the raccoons that live to dig through their trash and toss it all over the yard. Eddie swears he'd heard Wayne call them varmints once. But other than that, he's soft spoken, so different from Eddie's father. Eddie's grateful. Everyday.

"Yeah. He was just out in the road. I almost hit him." Eddie's lip wobbles and Wayne pulls him to his chest, his hand rubbing up and down Eddie's back.

"But you didn't. You stopped. And you saved him, sounds like, so..." he pulls back, cradles Eddie's face.

"Seems to me that's all that matters." He lifts his eyebrows, giving Eddie that look. Eddie nods, a little frantic, licks his lips, looks in the direction of the bathroom.

"Yeah. That's what matters." He nods again, wipes his hands on his shirt. Opens his mouth to thank his uncle when Steve calls his name.

"Go on. Go see to your boy." Wayne tilts his head in Steve's direction.

"Oh my god. He's not my- he can hear you." Eddie hiss/whispers at Wayne. He pulls his lips into his mouth, shrugs, looking like he could not be less sorry. Eddie hisses at him as he walks away, glaring. Wayne laughs behind him and starts a pot of coffee.

"You called?" Eddie teases when he gets to the bathroom, leans agaisnt the doorframe.

"You came." Steve teases back, his eyes locked on Eddie. Eddie flushes again, from head to fucking foot. He clears his throat, rubs at the back of his neck.

"Did you need something?" Eddie asks, his eyes on the floor now. He swears he hears Steve chuckle, but can't risk looking up to find a smiling, teasing Steve, he wouldn't survive it right now.

"Yeah. Two things actually. And you're not gonna like the second one." Eddie's eyes snap to Steve's face, he looks apologetic.

"What is it?" Eddie asks, shoving his hands into her pockets nervously.

"Well the first thing, I need you to call Jim Hopper. Tell him what happened. And that I'm here. And I'm safe. I am safe with you, right Eddie?" Steve looks up at him with wide eyes. Eddie nods, licks his lips, tries to do better.

"Yeah. Course. That thing, earlier? When you touched me. And I flinched." He jerks his head back, motioning behind him, into the past hour.

"That wasn't because of you and your- it wasn't cuz of that. I'm not afraid of you. I'm just not used to people touching me." Eddie babbles, knows that's probably not what Steve meant, probably not why he was asking if he was safe.

But that hurt look kept bouncing around Eddie's head and he had to say it, to tell him it wasn't because of Steve, any part of him. And it pays off, his babbling, for once, because Steve smiles, and his cheeks tint pink, and Eddie could look at that all day.

"Thanks." Steve mumbles, Eddie nods.

"Call Hopper. Got it. And the second thing?" He rocks up onto the balls of his feet and then back down, Steve looks up at him and grimaces.

"I need you to help hold this while I dig the bullet out." Steve taps the little homemade tourniquet he and Wayne had put together, resting right above the bullet wound. Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly very dry.

"O-okay." He stammers.

"Do you want Wayne to do it?" Steve asks, eyeing Eddie like he thinks he's gonna pass out. Eddie shakes his head, once to answer the question, and then again to clear it.

"Lemme go have Wayne call Hopper. And I'll be back. Should I bring more towels?" He asks, hand firmly planted on the doorframe as he leans into the bathroom, his eyes on the bloody towel in the sink.

"Maybe one more. And two glasses of water." Steve says, nods when Eddie does.

"What's the water for?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"To drink. Thought maybe you could use a glass too. I can hear your throat clicking from here." Steve teases, smiling again when Eddie nods frantically and ducks out of the bathroom.

"You can probably hear my throat clicking from across town." He mutters to himself, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet.

"Not quite that far. Maybe a few blocks, if I really focus." Steve calls from the bathroom.

"Jesus Christ." Eddie mutters, hears Steve laugh. He shakes his head, fills the glasses, gives Wayne his instructions for Hopper, shoves a towel under his arm, and waddles carefully back to the bathroom, hands full.

"There ya go." Eddie hands him a glass, tries not to stare at his throat when Steve chugs it, startles when Steve looks at him and chugs half his own glass.

"Where should I..." he trails off, looking around the bathroom.

"On your knees." Steve points to the space next to him, Eddie obeys immediately, his knees hitting the floor hard. His bites his lip, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, using all his willpower to not look at Steve right now, in this moment.

"That was-"

"Don't. Just- please don't. I'm mortified, can we just..." Eddie waves his hand towards Steve's wounded thigh.

"Mhm. We can." He says, and Eddie swears he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Nothing wrong with obeying orders well." Steve says, his voice hushed as Eddie scoots closer. He freezes, his eyes finally looking up, Steve is staring at him. Eddie gulps, Steve's eyes drop to his throat and jump back up.

"Put your hands here." Steve guides him, shows him where to hold the tourniquet, how to pull but not too tight. His fingers move over the back of Eddie's hands, leaving the faintest tracks of blood on his skin as Steve whispers,

"Good boy." Against Eddie's ear.

"Jesus H Christ." Eddie shutters, his shoulders tensing.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." And Steve fucking winks at him. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs, Steve laughs, shakes his head, and then rolls his shoulders.

"You don't have to watch." Steve says, serious now. Eddie nods, but finds he can't look away.

Steve's hand rests on his thigh, as Eddie watches his nails grow dark, and long, and sharp. Thick claws now where his nails used to be. Eddie watches as Steve moves, presses his finger into the hole in his leg and digs. He shoves his thumb in along side it, blood blooms bewteen his fingers and Eddie tightens his hold.

The whimper Steve lets out is what draws Eddie's eyes away. Away from the claws and the blood. They land on Steve's face, his features pinched in pain. He grits his teeth and Eddie sees fangs, too sharp teeth filling Steve's mouth as he groans.

"Steve?" Eddie's voice is airy, his throat tight.

"I'm alright. Almost got it." Steve grunts through his teeth, his jaw clentched.

"Okay. Be careful." Eddie whispers. Steve snorts again, pulls his thumb and finger back out of the wound with a whine, something shiny held between them.

He sags, his body drooping with relief. He holds the bullet out, Eddie moves, slowly lets go of the tourniquet, and holds out his hand.

"Don't lose that." Steve cautions, pausing before he drops it into Eddie's palm. Eddie nods, drops it into the cup near his toothbrush and moves back to Steve's side.

"What now?" He asks, hands hovering, not sure where to land. Steve looks at him, hooks his fingers under the tourniquet and winks at Eddie again.

"Now. I heal." He slips the rags off his leg. Eddie watches as one small pulse of blood bubbles up out of the wound, and then he watches as the edges close, the skin knitting itself back together. Steve wipes a towel over his leg, clearing the blood, and the wound is gone.

"Holy shit." Eddie says, breathless. His eyes jump to Steve face and he smiles.

"You're amazing." He breathes, and then smiles wider when his cheeks tint pink again.

"Ya think so? Most people wouldn't agree." Steve says, but he's smiling too.

"Well most people are idiots. And objectively you're probably weird as shit. But I love weird shit." Eddie shrugs, rubs at his neck when Steve just stares at him, feels himself going red again and stands. Offers his hand to Steve, helps him to his feet. He stumbles forward, Eddie catches him with his hands on his waist, feels his cheeks go impossibly hotter.

"You're hearts always beating so fast. Is that cuz of me?" Steve whispers, his hand settling on Eddie's chest, right over his fluttering heart. Eddie swallows, manages a nod before his resolve leaves him and he steps away from Steve hastily.

"You can shower if you want. I'm gonna- I'll go find you some clean clothes." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, bounces off the doorframe and bolts down the small hallway to his room.

He falls onto the edge of his bed, his legs wobbly, his chest aching, and his lungs somehow not pulling in enough air. He smiles when he hears the shower start, tries not to picture Steve in there showering. And shit, he forgot.

"The warm waters a little tricky. You gotta turn it all the way up and then lower it back down." He says, not too loud, wanting to know if Steve will hear him. He hears the tell squeak of the warm water handle and then Steve calls,

"Thanks!" Through the thin walls. Eddie bites his lip and falls back onto his bed, his head buzzing. He can't wait to tell Jeff. Oh, he sits up, thinking, he should ask about Chrissy. See if Jeff was right. All signs seem to be pointing that way.

He opens his mouth to ask when there's a knock at the door.An aggressive knock. More like someone pounding and trying to get in.

Eddie's up in a flash, but when he gets to the living room Wayne is near the door, his hand held out to Eddie, stopping him.

"It's not Hopper." Wayne mouths, and that's when Eddie sees the gun in his hand. Wayne's old shotgun. He'd only seen it once. When he turned 17, Wayne showed him where it was, and how to load and use it, in case of emergencies only.

Eddie's body tenses, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He can hear the shower running behind him. Hopes Steve is listening too.

"Open the door Munson! I know you've got him in there!" Hargove's taunting voice calls. A shiver runs down Eddie's spine, he shakes his head instinctively. He sees Wayne do the same. His uncle waves him down again, his palm held out towards Eddie, he lowers it slowly: stay calm. Eddie nods.

Wayne opens the door, keeps his shotgun hidden off to the side.

"Ain't nobody here but us. I think you should leave. We don't want any trouble." Wayne tells him calmly, his voice steady as he clicks the saftey off the gun in his hand. Eddie's breathing is shallow. He hears a snort from outside.

"Yeah right. You're Munson's. All you know is trouble. And you stepped in it big this time." Hargrove snarls.

"Now hand over that fuckin monster you got in there. And maybe I won't teach that little freak of yours a lesson for takin what's mine."

Eddie watches Wayne's knuckles go white where they're holding the door, watches the door shake as he grips it tight.

"Police are already on their way boy. You best be on yours before you get hurt." Wayne's voice is still calm. Too calm. Eddie's never heard him sound that way before. He can feel the anger just beneath the surface, his anger boils there too.

Wayne starts to say something else when Hargrove jumps forward, slams his body against the door, almost through it. Wayne stumbles backward, caught off guard just enough for Hargrove to get the drop on him. He grabs Wayne's arm, tugs him forward and headbutts him.

Eddie's stomach twists at the sound, as he watches Wayne fall to the floor. He knows he can't get to the gun. But Hargrove could. Doesn't seem to care about it though. His eyes land on Eddie, cold and empty, his jaw clenched. Eddie turns, makes for his bedroom. He feels Hargrove's hand slam down on his shoulder and screams.

"Steve help m-" Billy's knuckles slam into his cheek, he feels his lip split when his face hits the ground. Feels Hargrove move over him, and then away. His shadow there and then gone, quick as a flash. Eddie looks up, hears a low growl, and sees Hargrove against the wall, his feet almost a foot above the ground, Steve's clawed hand around his throat, holding him there.

His mouth is full of fangs again, his skin covered in fur now, not completely, just a thin layer, and his eyes seem to glow in the low light of the trailer. Eddie scrambles to his knees, hears another growl.

"Touch him again and I willl rip you apart." The words rumble deep in Steve's chest. Hargrove chokes and gags as Steve squeezes him tighter.

"Sounds like a great plan kid. But how bout you let me handle the rest huh?" A new voice. Eddie startles, tries too fast to turn and ends up on his back. Footsteps approach him and he's look up at Sheriff Hopper.

"You alright kid?" He asks, Eddie nods, his chest clenches.

"My uncle-"

"Already back on his feet kid. C'mon." Hopper extends his hand. Eddie takes it, lets the big man yank him to feet easily. Eddie suspects he may be a wolf himself. Or something else.

"Steve. Let him go." Hopper says, slow, like he's talking Steve down. He still has Hargrove against the wall, he's only wearing the boxers Eddie gave him. His skin is all skin again, but his claws are still out, his fangs pushing at his lips, his chest is heaving.

Eddie watches Hopper move toward him, Steve growls, low in his throat, Hargrove struggles as his fingers tighten, Hopper stops.

"Hey. Kid. I know. Alright. I get. He hurt your friend."

Another low growl, deeper, more feral, Steve's brow furrows.

"Oh. Shit. Okay." Hopper sighs, glances at Eddie.

"You're okay right?" He asks, leaning into Eddie's space a bit, Eddie thinks he sniffs him.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I'm good." Eddie nods, his eyes going back to Steve when Hopper's do.

"Your boys okay. Just a split lip. Nothin serious. He's okay." Hopper reassures, takes a few small steps forward. Steve twitches with each one. His grip on Hargrove's throat still tight.

"Steve I'm okay. You can let go now." Eddie tries. He watches the muscles in Steve's arm relax, but only a little. Eddie shakes his head, makes a decision. He steps forward, dodges Hopper when he reaches for him.

"Kid don't-"

"It's fine." Eddie dismisses. He walks up to Steve, gets close, Eddie moves his hand over his arm slowly, letting Steve feeling him.

"I'm right here. I'm okay." He soothes, fingers pressing into Steve's hot skin. But it works, his body relaxes, he loosens his hold on Hargrove, lets him slide down the wall til his feet touch the floor, but doesn't let go.

"Fuckin'... freak." Hargrove gasps, glaring at Eddie, eyes full of hate.

"Shut up." Eddie and Steve speak in unison, but Steve yanks him forward, then slams him back. His head hits the wall and Steve lets him go. He falls to floor, unconscious.

Steve turns to Eddie then, teeth too big for his mouth. His lips pushed out in a pout around his fangs, and he whines, his hand lifting to touch Eddie's lip, his claws receding back into his nails before his fingers touch Eddie.

He licks the blood from Eddie's lip off his fingers and then grabs for him, pulling him against his chest with a whine, clinging to him as he nuzzles into Eddie's neck. Eddie gulps, wraps his arms around Steve slowly, awkwardly, does his best to hold on. To soothe him.

Once Steve's calmed a bit he pulls back. Eddie looks down, Billy's body is gone. He turns to look behind him, Wayne and Hopper are sitting on the couch, watching some old movie. Eddie's brow furrows. How fucking long had Steve been holding onto him?

"Sorry. I didn't mean to, like, trap you." Steve clears his throat. Eddie turns back to him, he looks embarrassed. Eddie smiles, cups his cheek.

"It isn't a trap if it's somewhere I wanna be. Is it?" Steve looks uncertain for a moment, his eyes darting around Eddie's face, looking for something, Eddie's sure. He either finds, or doesn't, because he smiles so brightly it nearly blinds Eddie.

"Really?" He asks, his fingers twitching at his sides.

"Yeah. Kinda had a crush on you since like, fuckin forever. Seventh grade or something stupid." Eddie shrugs.

"Fifth grade." Wayne calls from the couch, Eddie rounds on him, he hadn't even looked away from the tv.

"Oh my god what does it matter! Bud out would you? I'm having a moment!" Eddie hisses, watches Wayne smile into his cup of coffee. He opens his mouth to snark some more but Steve's hand turning his face back to him stops him.

"Fifth grade?" Steve asks. Eddie rolls his eyes, sighs, nods.

"Yeah."

"Wha- Why?"

"You gave me a rock." Eddie huffs, bites into his lip.

"I gave you..." Steve gasps, his hands moving to Eddie's waist and tugging.

"I gave you a rock!" He says, excited. Eddie nods.

"I know. I was there." He rolls his eyes, teasing. Steve looks at him, for a long moment.

"Did you keep it?" He sounds so hopeful. Behind them, Wayne snorts and then clears his throat. Eddie groans, loud, and long. Wayne and Hopper both chuckle.

"Of course I kept it. I'm a big gay loser and a pretty boy gave me a rock. It's on my nightstand." Eddie admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat.

But then Steve is nuzzling against his cheek and he decides he doesn't care if he's a loser. That pretty boy was a werewolf, and apparently this werewolf thinks of Eddie as his. And he could definitely get used to that.

"You kept it." Steve hums, presses his nose into Eddie's throat and nearly fucking purrs with delight, his chest rumbling against Eddie's, making his heart flutter.

"Alright kid. We gotta get this sorted. Get that bullet. We'll get this delt with. And you can come back here and... well you can come back here. The rest is none of my business." Hopper declares, clapping his hands once, as he stands and moves to the door.

Steve pulls back, nods, and ducks back into the bathroom. Eddie brings him some clothes and then he's gone. Riding away in Hoppers cruiser, an unconscious Billy Hargrove in the backseat, bound and gagged, for good measure.

Wayne moves to stand beside him as he watches them drive away. His arm wraps around Eddie's shoulders and tugs him close.

"Rough day kid." Wayne says, giving him a squeeze.

"Yeah. Not all bad though." Eddie considers, drops his head on Wayne's shoulder.

"Definitely not. C'mon," Wayne gives his shoulder a pat.

"Let's get this house cleaned up before your boy gets back."

Eddie nods, follows him back inside, and starts cleaning. There's woodchips all over the hallway, Steve had shattered the door coming out to help Eddie and Wayne. Eddie suppresses a shiver at the thought.

But has trouble not thinking about the way Steve had been so mad because Billy had hurt him, hurt Eddie. Not his friend. He'd been mad about that word too. Not his friend. Just his.

Eddie swept the floor and tidied his room and let the feeling of being Steve's surround him. Let it fill his head and his chest. Let it lift him up off the floor, his body floating when he finally fell into bed to wait for Steve. His Steve.

~°~

Eddie wakes to gentle hands on his shoulder. He lets go of his pillow and rolls to find Steve, on his knees on the matress behind him. He scrambles to sitting, hands reaching for Steve, met with Steve's own out stretched hands.

"You came back." Eddie mumbles, still drowsy. Steve smiles, soft.

"Course I did. Nowhere else I'd rather be." He whispers, presses forward, his face so so close.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, Eddie feels his breath rush over his skin.

"You want too?" Eddie asks, because his brain still hasn't quite caught up, isn't sure this isn't just a dream.

"Eddie." Steve says name the way no one ever has, all longing and need, curled at the edges from exasperation.

"Yeah Steve?" Eddie's trembling now, his hands shaking in his lap. Steve takes them in his, like he can read Eddie's mind.

"I've wanted to kiss you for awhile now. Even before I heard what you said at that party." Steve whispers the last bit, his mouth curving into a smirk, his eyes twinkling. Eddie's own eyes widen and then squeeze shut as he groans, takes his hands from Steve's and hides his face.

"You did hear me. I knew it oh my goooodddd." He rolls onto his back, rolling side to side on the bed, bumping Steve with his thighs everytime he rolls toward him. The laugh Eddie's dramtics pull out of Steve is beautiful, it makes Eddie feel like flying.

He drops his hands to his stomach and looks up at Steve. Steve looks right back, his eyes soft, his mouth curved just so in a small smile.

"I wanna kiss you so bad Steve." Eddie admits, his fingers drumming on his stomach. Steve's nose scrunches.

"Yeah? You sure?" Eddie tilts his head, trying to read the sudden change in Steve. His confidence seeming to fail him.

"Did you think I would genuinely say no to you?" Eddie asks, pushing himself up to sitting, so he can see Steve better. Steve picks at a loose thread on Eddie sheet, lifts one shoulder, drops it again.

"Who the fuck could say no to you?" Eddie wonders aloud, just a breathed out question.

"Not everyone can love a monster." The words fall past Steve's lips with sadness, his voice thick with it. Eddie's heart aches for him.

"Hey. You're not a monster." Eddie shakes his head, Steve levels him with such a bitchy look, it nearly takes Eddie's breath away. He snorts and holds up his hands in surrender.

"Okay. Okay tech-... technically you- you are a monster." Eddie rests his hands on Steve's knees.

"Like in the, literal, old movie wolfman monster, definition. Then yes. Sure. You're a monster." Eddie shrugs, shakes Steve's knees until he's wobbling back and forth with Eddie.

"But that doesn't mean you're a monster." Eddie shakes his head.

"And hey, even if you are. You've come to the right place. Eddie Munson, monster fucker extraordinaire!" He does a little jazz hands display before pointing at himself. He can see Steve fighting a smile.

"I mean not that I've... fucked a monster... before..." he trails off, eyes on the ceiling, thinking. He snaps his fingers, points at Steve.

"But I am willing! And hopefully," he wiggles his fingers in Steve's direction,

"Able." He smiles awkwardly, his eyes dropping to Steve's crotch and then back up, his cheeks flushing when Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

"Willing and able. That's me." Eddie points both his thumbs at himself, Steve's lip twitches. Eddie clasps his hands in front of him.

"Please say something so I can stop talking." Eddie begs through a helpless breathy laugh. Steve drags his teeth over his lower lip and shakes his head slowly, moves closer, presses into Eddie's space.

"No... you're not gonna say anything? Or no... umm... wh- what did I say after that?" Eddie stammers as Steve keeps moving, one hand on Eddie's chest, pressing him back into the matress, the other ending up near Eddie's head, supporting Steve as he hovers over Eddie.

"I like when you talk." Steve says, tossing his leg over Eddie, sitting on his thighs. Eddie nods, feeling a little frantic.

"Oh well thats good. Cuz I'm notorious for not knowing when to shut the fuck up. Now being one of those times I fear. Pretty sure. My mouth literally will not stop moving." The nervous laugh that comes out of him just makes Steve smile more, but it's different, sharp at the edges. Eddie realizes what the look is and gulps, Steve leans over him, chest to chest now, nose to nose. He looks hungry.

"I'm almost certain I can find something that will shut you up." Steve fucking purrs, his finger dragging down over Eddie's lips, his hand moving to cup Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flick down between them and then back up.

"I mean we gotta try right? There's gotta be somethin- mmphf! Mmmm." Steve kisses him, presses his lips to Eddie's like he's trying to swallow his words. Eddie hums into it, hands moving to Steve's neck, his shoulders, his back. His hands move everywhere, feather light touches, not sure where to land. Steve pulls back, rests his forehead against Eddie's.

"I really like you." He sighs, his eyes squeezed tight, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. Eddie watches him, eyes closed, trying to stay calm.

"I really like you too. That's why I kept the rock. And the bird you drew me in seventh grade." Steve's eyes open, he looks down at Eddie, brow furrowing.

"And the poem you wrote  freshman year, about wanting to be a wolf." Eddie leans up, presses his lips to Steve's forhead.

"Kinda cheated on that one didn't ya?" Eddie whispers, wraps his arms around Steve as he settles in his lap. Steve gasps when Eddie kisses down his neck.

"I kept the sweatshirt you gave me at the football game too.Sophomore year. It's tucked away in my closet." He kisses back up, eyes closing on a hum as Steve pushes his hands up under Eddie's shirt, needing to touch him.

"I used to take it out and just hold it. And smell it. But it stopped smelling like you. Years ago." Eddie breathes against his lips, Steve whimpers into his mouth.

"I like you so much." Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve's lips.

"You being a werewolf isn't gonna change that." He kisses Steve's cheeks, his left one twice, once for each freckle.

"If anything, it will make my feelings, monumentally stronger. Like it'll be disconcerting. It's gonna make people uncomfortable." He kisses Steve's eyelids as he laughs, squirms in Steve's arms when his hands work their way into the back of his pajama pants.

"I'm gonna be obsessed with you." Eddie whispers, kissing down Steve's nose and across his lips again. Steve whines again, chases his lips, Eddie puts two fingers across them, to shush him, groans when Steve pulls them into his mouth and sucks, his cheeks hollowing as he blinks at Eddie, eyes hooded and needy.

"Jesus okay. There's is- there is a 'but' coming." Eddie gasps, Steve smirks around his fingers but lets them go.

"What's the but?" Steve asks, pouting as he moves his hands up Eddie’s back again. Eddie snorts and kisses his cheek again.

"I just-" he stops, takes a deep breath. His stomach twisting. He feels Steve's hand on his chest and opens his eyes, Steve tilts his head like a puppy.

"Your hearts beating fast again." He says, quiet, like he's talking to himself.

"I'm nervous." Eddie says, straight to the point. Steve tilts his head the other way.

"Nervous to be with me?" Steve's thumb soothes over Eddie's chest, through his shirt.

"Nervous cuz- I've never done this." Eddie bites his lip.

"I kinda figured you were a virgin ya know." Steve shrugs, noses at Eddie's neck. Eddie puts his hands on Steve's chest and pushes him back genlty.

"Umm... excuse me?" Eddie scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

"What? Virgins smell different." Steve says, like it's a normal thing to say.

"Ew. What? Why?" Eddie asks, his fingers tangling in Steve shirt as he laughs, his arms winding around him and pulling him closer.

"Dunno. Never asked. It's just true. You smell so good anyway but that part," Steve shivers, looks down at him.

"It's just sweet. You smell sweet." Steve smiles down at him, kisses his cheek, runs his fingers over the spot after.

"Okay well, that's all... a lot of information. But what I meeeeant," Eddie drawls, poking Steve in the chest.

"Is that I've never been in a relationship before. Like, not a real one. Not like this. And I'm just scared I guess. Cuz you're like, a fucking dream." Eddie sighs, Steve smiles.

"And I have a very long history of categorically fucking up everything good that happens to me. And I don't wanna do that here. With you. I want-" Eddie frowns, Steve moves, pulls them to the bed and rolls them, so they're facing each other.

"What do you want?" Steve asks, his fingers moving over Eddie's forhead, soothing the frown and then moving into his hair.

"I want you. I want to keep you." Eddie worries at his lip, Steve moves his thumb over it, drags it from between Eddie's teeth and soothes over the hurt.

"I wanna keep you too. We don't have to do anything right now. I just needed to be with you. After today." Steve says, shrugs his shoulder and curls closer.

"We can just- do this? Just be together?" Eddie asks, hesitant, his eyes falling closed as Steve hums,

"Mhm. We can just hold each other." Steve moves his fingers deeper into Eddie's hair, pulls him to his chest. Eddie clings to him, arms wrapped tight, hears that fucking rumble in Steve's chest again.

"Are you actually purring or does it just sound like it?" Eddie mumbles sleepily into Steve's chest. He feels him laugh, feels him pull Eddie impossibly closer.

"Hopper refuses to call it that. But I like it. I've only done it once before today though." Steve sighs, Eddie perks up, rests his chin on his arms and looks at Steve.

"When was the other time?" Eddie asks, eyes blinking slowly. Steve reaches up, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"With my friend Robin. You know her. From band." Eddie nods. Steve nods back.

"Yeah well. I came out to her last year and she was so excited, and happy, and accepting. She made me a cake. I mean it was terrible. But she made it just for me." Steve laughs, Eddie smiles down at him, waiting for more.

"And after, she told me she was proud of me. And that she loved me. And that's when it happened. I think it happens when you find your people. Like, my wolf just knows, when it's right." Steve's eyes won't stay on him, and he looks nervous again.

"She's like your platonic soulmate huh?" Eddie asks, pushing his finger around Steve's chest, drawing little nothings here and there. But he feels the tension leave Steve, feels him relax underneath him.

"Yeah. She is." He nods, eyes locked on Eddie now, his are shining with tears. Eddie nods, scoots a little closer, further up Steve's chest.

"I have one too. Jeff. He's in Hellfire with me. We're like two trippy peas in a far out pod." Steve scrunches his nose, lifts his head and kisses Eddie, sweet and soft.

"Thanks for understanding." Steve breathes.

"Sure. Give me enough time and I can understand anything. That ones easy though. I'm glad you have someone like that too." Eddie drops back down onto Steve's chest, gets comfy.

An hour later Steve manhandles him onto his side and presses up against his back, arms wrapped around Eddie like vines, keeping him close. Eddie shivers at being tossed around, even more at being held like he's something precious. He feels Steve smirk into his neck, feels that rumble again.

He smiles into Steve's arm, presses his lips to his skin and lets himself fall asleep, feeling loved, and wanted, and like he belongs to someone.

~°~

Eddie finds out later that Jeff was right. Chrissy absolutely is a vampire. And a good friend of Steve's. Eddie, Steve, and Robin may or may not parent trap them into several ridiculous situations before Chrissy finally tells them her and Jeff have been dating for almost three weeks now.

Eddie swears he knew. Steve can hear him lying. But let's him have it anyway. Robin refuses to let it go and constantly claims that the first time she meddled was three weeks ago which means she got them together which means she wins the bet.

Eddie remains unaware that there was even an actual bet going on. He just thought they were trying to make their friends happy. Steve can hear him telling the truth, and loves him for it.

Steve holds Eddie close almost every night, so so glad he heard Eddie talking at that party. And so so glad he'd told Robin, two weeks before that party, that he was gonna ask Eddie out. That he wanted to keep him forever.

She'd made fun of him of course. Eddie Munson? Really? But Steve had pressed on. Something about that sweet smell drawing him in.

And even after Steve claims him. Even after Eddie is his and no one elses. To Steve, he still smells so sweet, like the first rain of spring. Likes Steve's favorite fruit. Like Steve's. Like home.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie: *looking at Steve and Chrissy* I can't be in love with two people! I only have one nipple! . . . Okay, they're looking at me. . .

Mike: You said your thoughts outloud again.

Eddie: *shrieks* Goddamnit!

Mike: You want me to tell them you left the country?

Eddie: *already getting up* That'd be great, thanks!

[fujiblackthorne]

romance is alive and well 🐝

[little-annie]

How do you think the spicy 6 (and some) spend their time waiting out the blizzard?

I’m working on a fic for Spicy 6ber fanworks, but have this in the meantime.

[arelliann]

Come one come all to Chapter one of @penny00dreadful’s absolutely incredible @steddiebang2024 fic, ‘Royal Pain’ which you can read on a03 here!! Medieval enemies to lovers, what more could you want!

it’s been so amazing to get to work on this project with her and @hbyrde36, massive congrats to all of their hard work <3

[harringroveera]

Girls’ night! They eat and watch movies and do manicures and also talk about their idiot friends in love!

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || a/b/o

hi so today is @lexirosewrites’s birthday today and like,, idk three or so weeks ago she followed me (hi lexi <3 happy birthday <3 hope today has been fun <3) and to celebrate both of those things i started writing an omegaverse fic, and i wanted it done by today but it is grew a mind of its’ own and now it’s much bigger than i thought it’d be so instead of the full fic, have a snippet <3

again, happy birthday lexi <3

“Hello?” Steve answered, having learned to not open the call with who was answering without knowing who was calling from one too many scam calls

“Is this Steve Harrington?” A soft feminine voice asked, taking Steve by surprise.

“May I ask who’s calling?” Steve asked, not willing to concede his identity until he knew it wasn’t someone looking to sell him ‘Alpha Pills’ or something just as ridiculous.

“Of course! My name is Chrissy Cunningham, you sent in an application for being a full time nanny and tutor?” She responded with a cheerful voice. “I can’t <i>really</i> go much more in depth without an NDA being signed.”

Recognition zapped through Steve’s body and he sat up in his seat. “Oh! Yes, I’m Steve. Um. I’d be happy to sign an NDA, just may I ask why?”

“Yes, you may! My client is a big fan of privacy and only agreed to hire someone if they were under an NDA for the protection of their pup.” aaand all of Steve’s anxiety surrounding the NDA pretty much melted away. Sure, maybe it was a bit much to do, and sure, now he was dying with curiosity to know just <i>who</i> he had ended up applying to, but the knowledge that the NDA was for the protection of the pup soothed any anxiety Steve had originally felt about signing an NDA. In fact, it kind of made his omega perk up. He shook off the feeling, focusing on Chrissy.

“That’s actually really relieving to hear,” Steve said with a laugh. “When or where can I sign the NDA?” he questioned, wondering when Robin would be home so he could tell her.

“Well, first, you and I will do a preliminary interview, just like any other job interview. Then, if all goes well, I’ll send you an email containing the NDA for you to review and sign,” Chrissy explained clearly and cheerfully. “After you sign the NDA, my client will perform an in-person interview and then we’ll go from there.”

“That all seems pretty straight forward so far,” Steve replied, standing from where he had been lounging on the couch. He walked to the kitchen, where he and Robin had put up a magnetic whiteboard calendar to fill with each of their schedules and plans. He grabbed the blue marker, his color, and prepared to jot down when they’d have the interview.

“Perfect! Happy to hear it,” Chrissy said with an audible smile.

“When will the interview with you be?” Steve asked, biting his lip as he stared at the calendar, which had sparsely been marked with his blue marker, even since starting this job hunt. Robin’s plans were in red, and was much more abundant due to having three part time jobs.

“Well, as soon as possible, really. If you’re available now, we could take care of it right away.” the woman responded, sounding like she was walking into another room.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed, recapping the marker and returning it to the pen holder. “Yes, of course. I’m available now.”

“Perfect!” Chrissy’s voice sounded from Steve’s phone as the omega walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. “So, starting off pretty easy here, what made you apply for this position?”

Steve thought back and grimaced at the reminder that it was Robin who had submitted his application to this particular job. He wasn’t about to admit that, though, and quickly found a more appropriate response.

“Well, I love taking care of pups, and I just got my teacher’s license a month ago,” Steve explained, which wasn’t a lie, so he figured it was probably as good of an answer as any. “I also saw that this job traveled, and my best friend thought that it’d be good for me.”

“Yes, that was going to be part of this conversation, too. So, you’re obviously alright with the traveling, then?” Chrissy asked and Steve heard what he thought could be pen scratching as she wrote notes. He swallowed thickly, suddenly anxious about what she was writing. He decided to ignore his anxiety, even as his scent soured around him with it.

“Oh, yes, traveling is more than okay,” Steve agreed immediately, “but it’s more important to me that I’ll be taking care of a pup, if I’m honest.”

This statement seemed to pique Chrissy’s attention, as the writing stopped for a moment. “Why is that?” she eventually asked.

Steve winced, wondering if he should be up front about it or not. If Robin were here, she would insist that he was honest. He decided on a half-truth.

“I’ve always wanted pups, and a lot of them,” Steve admitted, fidgeting with a loose piece of thread on the couch. He switched which arm was holding the phone, as he had started to get a little sore from holding it up for so long. “But I don’t have a partner, so I can’t really have my own right now. I discovered through babysitting for one of my neighbors that I have a knack for taking care of pups.”

The scratching noise was back as Chrissy listened to his responses. Steve was nervous he wasn’t doing well, but figured that it wasn’t going bad if she wasn’t suddenly calling the interview short.

“Your resume says that you’re good in high stress situations,” Chrissy said after a couple seconds of silence as she wrote down whatever notes she was taking. Steve briefly wondered if he should be doing the same thing. “I’m going to give you an example scenario, and you’re going to tell me how you’d respond.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Steve agreed, trying not to let his voice betray how anxious he was.

“For the sake of simplicity, we’ll say the pup’s name is Rosie,” she informed him before she continued to describe the scenario. “You’re taking Rosie to the park, when suddenly there is a crowd of people surrounding you and you lose sight of her. What do you do?”

Steve thought the scenario was odd, but not ‘out there’ enough to alarm him. He thought about his answer for a moment before replying.

“I would try to follow her scent, first, because that will usually lead me to any pup I’ve babysat. If that doesn’t work, I will call out for her. If the situation is bad enough, I would contact the authorities, and either you or Rosie’s father.” he paused for a second before continuing, trying to make sure he covered all of his bases. “But honestly? If Rosie is small enough, I would have rather carried her once I saw the crowd, or hold her hand, for the reason of lowering my chances of separation.”

Silence that’s only broken up by the scratching of pen against paper followed, and Steve was suddenly anxious that he answered incorrectly. He answered what he would do if it were his own pup, but what if that wasn’t right? What if he wasn’t cut out for this job?

“Alright, next scenario,” Chrissy said, moving swiftly onto the next one without commenting on his answer; Steve didn’t know if he preferred her not acknowledging it or if he would prefer to be told his answer was shitty up front. The next few scenarios were just as oddly specific, but Steve answered them exactly as he did the first one. He tried to not overthink his answers too much because between each one there would be a stretch of time that Chrissy used to presumably write his answers down.

“One last question and then we should be good to move forward.” Chrissy said a good twenty minutes of questions later. “When would you be available to start working?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, surprised that he was seemingly, maybe being offered the job. “Um—immediately. I would need time to pack, but other than that, I’m free.”

“Wonderful,” Chrissy said cheerfully. “Alright, now it’s your turn. Do you have any questions for me?”

Steve hummed, trying to go through his usual list of questions he asked during interviews that hadn't already been answered and came up empty. “Not at the moment, but I’ll make sure to write any I think of down, if I do.”

“Perfect! So, I will consult with my client, and I have a few other applicants that are interested, but so far, you are my top pick, but I don’t make the decisions,” Chrissy laughed, as if Steve was in on the joke. He laughed with her, not knowing what else he should have done. So, maybe not a job offer, but it sounded promising anyway. “I will be in contact in a few days, three at most.”

“Sounds good, thank you so much for considering me, Chrissy,” he responded with a smile, hoping to leave one last good impression.

[transvampireboyfriend]

Teacher AU

Eddie who studied to be a music teacher but right before graduation Corroded Coffin takes off. It's fast, they have to mail him his diploma to avoid a crowd of fans at his classmates' ceremony.

But it goes as fast as it comes, a few years of touring and then popularity wanes. Eddie is not bothered by it, neither are the guys, they enjoyed it while it lasted, yet they all knew they couldn't live like that for the rest of their lives, so it's all for the best.

Eddie lives off of album and merch sales and writing songs for other bands and artists now. This is when his best friend, Chrissy, tells him she heard the music teacher was retiring at her old pre-school.

Eddie applies for the vacant position, fearing they won't like his former star status but ultimately, after a good interview, he gets the job.

Steve who became a pre-school teacher and started teaching as soon as he could. He lives with his best friend, Robin, and coaches the town's junior basketball teams (both boys and girls) on his off time.

Steve who's nearing his thirties and getting a little frustrated with his love life. No matter how many dates, no matter how many 6 month relationships, no matter how many 1 year and a half and moving in together debacles, he still just never quite fits his partners, he never feels that thing, that excitement everyone talks about. No matter how amazing the person. Robin calls him an idealist, says he's being naïve. Steve sticks by his instinct to hope for more.

Steve who stares (a little slack-jawed) at the new music teacher for a good minute when he comes pick up his kids. Trying to take in the wild hair pinned up by a pencil, the glasses around big cow eyes, the tattoos peeking out of his long sleeves, the dimples.

He was aware Mrs. Wallace retired and a new teacher was brought on, he just hadn't expected his heart to race at the mere sight of him.

Steve completely misses his name, has to ask him to come again when those beautiful brown eyes get a mischievous sparkle and look expectant, like he got stood up waiting for an answer.

"I said it's nice meeting you" the new teacher repeats

"Oh! Of course! You're very nice. I mean it's very- It's nice meeting you too" Steve says and forcefully shuts his mouth, pressing his lips into a thin line.

The new teacher's smile just gets bigger and he nods and leads the kids to his class.

Robin thinks it's beyond funny that Steve doesn't know the new teacher's name, but she refuses to explain, refuses to tell him what it is and encourages him to find out on his own.

Steve approaches the guy in the teacher's lounge at lunch.

Beyond whatever the hell makes Steve's brain functions jump ship when he's around him, Steve does think it was rude of him to stare and not even introduce himself when they first met.

His mother may have been real shitty, but she didn't raise someone impolite.

"Hi," Steve starts, making the other man look up at him from underneath his glasses. Steve looks away for a second to avoid getting lost in those eyes.

"I think I owe you an apology," Steve starts, the other teacher raises his eyebrows and lowers the book in his hands.

"I'm sorry?"

"That's my line," Steve points out, he's rewarded by a small laugh and dimples, "I was rude," Steve explains, "I was staring and I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Steve." he smiles and extends his hands to the other man.

"I know." the guy says, smiling big enough to show his teeth, but gently taking Steve's hand in his own "I told you, they were nice enough to put all the names in my schedule, remember?" he says,

Steve freezes.

How come he didn't think of that? His schedule is the same, all schedules for teachers have everybodys' names. They even distributed new schedules for everyone when the hiring decision was made, Steve just hadn't bother to look at it yet, knowing the important bits hadn't changed.

Steve would facepalm if his dominant hand wasn't otherwise occupied.

"Uh-" Steve starts, thankfully the other man cuts him off,

"Hey," he says, with the kindest eyes Steve has ever seen, and still gently holding Steve's hand, "It's cool. I get it." he tells Steve,

Then he asks, "Are you a fan?"

Steve stares again.

Excuse him?

Judging by Robin's smirk accross the room, Steve's face must be as red as a ripe tomato.

Steve yanks his hand back.

Well, that's presumptuous. Just because Steve isn't very good at thinking whe he's around him, doesn't mean that- Sure, Steve came prepared to flirt with him, but he does not appreciate beaing treated like he's easy.

Steve frowns at him before turning around and promptly walking away. He guesses he'll have to go check his schedule if he wants to know the name of this jerk.