#prompt: Dustin

[starryeyedjanai]

“I’m here to warn you,” Dustin, the new Dustin, says. “Or to help save you? I don't know. There wasn't really a manual that came along with this whole spontaneous time travel thing.”

“This is crazy,” Steve says, running his hand through his hair, looking back and forth between the Dustins.

“How do we know you aren't in league with Vecna or something?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, tell me something only I would know,” Dustin, the real Dustin, says.

“Dude, Vecna can see all the memories of the people he haunts. So if I was with him, I’d know everything you know,” the new Dustin says.

“Oh,” Dustin— this is getting confusing— says. “That’s no help then.”

“So if you’re here, does that mean we lose?” Erica asks.

The new Dustin hesitates, then says, “We didn’t lose lose. Just. We lost someone.”

“And you’re here to stop that?” Erica asks.

“I think so— that’s the only reason why I think I’d be sent back to this moment,” future Dustin says.

“Okay, sure. So was anyone going to tell me my hair looks like that from the back?” Dustin 1.0 asks.

“That’s it, we’re calling the new you Dustin 2.0,” Eddie declares.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Imagine Vampire Eddie getting scared like a cartoon cat, jumping up to the ceiling, and getting stuck. Imagine Dustin, Lucas, and Mike scaring Eddie on purpose. One day, they scare him while at Steve's house, and Steve gets pissed because his parents' house just has to have that very high ceiling in the living room. So, Steve has to get out the very tall ladder to get his claws out of the ceiling and then get him down. Eddie is very terrified of heights, so he clings to Steve’s back while Steve very shakily gets them down from the ladder. As soon Steve’s feet touch the ground, he goes off on them for scaring Eddie. To Eddie's surprise, Steve turns him around in his arms so they're facing each other and holds onto him tightly.

"And I'll you get him back when I've decided you learn your lesson," Steve said. "Until then, I'm keeping him."

He walks off, with Eddie wrapped tightly around him.

"You can't just keep an entire person, Steve!" Dustin yelled. "That's kidnapping!"

Eddie hisses at them over Steve’s shoulder and stuck his forked tongue at them, his eyes flashing red.

[kitchen-spoon]

Recently found out the house in the Slipknot duality music video was actually a fans house. they gave the band permission to film their music video there and have a mob of people destroy it.

Now imagine Dustin being a huuuuuge corroded coffin fan and hearing the band is going back to their hometown Hawkins. They are looking for a house to film one of their music videos in. Issue is they want to trash the place and invite all their fans to do it with them. In comes Steve who was given his parents mansion but left Hawkins years ago. The house has been sitting and rotting for almost decade. Naturally Dustin BEGS Steve to let them use his house so Dustin can meet the band and of course do them the honour. After weeks of pestering from Dustin and forced googling by Robin, Steve agrees. And its definitely not because he has a giant crush on the lead guitarist Eddie Munson.

Months later the band come to Hawkins and Dustin’s dreams come true. He, Steve, and Robin all get to be in the video. And once Eddie hears about the circumstances of the house (through some over sharing on Dustin’s part) he insists Steve be the one to at least kick the door in and destroy his old bedroom. Steve is nervous though so Eddie is given the camera and they go alone.

Steve leaves the shoot that day with years of repressed anger and resentment relieved as well as the phone number of a famous rockstar.

Dustin never shuts up about being the reason they are together.

[hello-sweetheart]

Dustin and Eddie who become actual brothers when Wayne and Claudia marry.

Steve being high low key jealous cuz he always considered Dustin like a pseudo brother but now he has an actual brother and they share similar interests, they get along, they squabble sure but in the end of the day it’s all love and belonging

And Steve is like a stray cat outside in the rain looking in at the cozy family gathered at the dinner table

He’s so happy that Dustin is happy, but their time together is limited now that his family has grown. and when they do have time he hears all about how Eddie is so cool, how his mom has never been happier, how she loves Eddie, how Wayne doesn’t mind his science rambles, how Eddie is such a great DM—

Of course he gets invited, he’s Dustin’s friend he still is he’s still here but that doesn’t mean he feels like he’s part of their family, their home.

Steve’s just the friend at the dinner table, the polite boy who offers help wash the dishes, who leaves at the end of the night with left overs. The guest.

And Eddie? Eddie who mistrusts this boy, who fits the mold of jock so perfectly that he’s baffled when he finds that there’s more to him… he takes an interest in this regular Saturday dinner guest of theirs…

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Father's Day

Was going to post this for the steddie microfic June prompt, but decided it's probably not Steddie-centric. Still sticking to the reqs though, just for fun!

prompt: "stuff" || wc: 483 || rated: G || cw: none

~~~

Everyone knows Steve’s house is free reign for hangouts, yet the Party’s collectively designated Sundays as alone time for the new couple. So it’s a bit of a surprise that someone’s knocking. 

The fact someone’s knocking at all is weird.

“Hey sweetheart,” Eddie shouts from the living room, “can you grab that? I think someone’s here.”

Steve opens the door to find Dustin and Max looking slightly shy, if he had to put his finger on it. Odd, especially for them. They’re holding gift bags filled with colorful tissue paper, Max’s blue and Dustin’s red.

Before Steve can invite them in, they surge past him towards the living room. So not too far off from normal, he thinks.

He trails after them and finds Eddie right where he left him– sitting on the floor, surrounded by DnD books and a notebook perched in his lap.

“Babe, what are the sheepies doing here? It’s Sunday,” Eddie asks. He’s smiling up at them, despite the interruption.

Of course they’re happy to see the kids– always are, always will be– but only these two could get away with showing up on Eddie and Steve day.

“We brought you something,” Max says, thrusting the gift into Steve’s arms. Dustin drops his onto Eddie’s lap, scattering his loose notes.

Curious, Steve looks to catch Eddie’s expression to find him already tearing into the gift. Steve sets his on the coffee table and digs out the colorful paper.

Inside he finds a plain, white coffee mug, except it’s been hand-painted with colorful paint pens. On it he finds a basketball, baseball, and a crudely drawn version of his beloved beemer. But on the front, the word “Dingus” is written in Max’s bubble font underneath a bloody version of his nail bat. 

His eyes sting with warmth, and he looks up at Max, whose cheeks are flushed red. Steve finds Eddie holding a similar mug covered in what he assumes are DnD monsters, along with some dice, and his precious Warlock on the front with “Metalhead” underneath.

“What is this,” Steve asks, choking on the lump lodged in his throat.

“It’s all stuff you like,” Max replies, pointing at the mug, choosing the easy answer instead of the real one.

”No– why?” Steve feels like he can’t breathe, his eyes almost full, and his heart racing.

“It’s Father’s Day,” Dustin says, sniffling and wringing his hat in his hands “and me and Max, you know, we don’t–”

“You guys taught us how to play basketball, so we could practice with Lucas,” Max interrupts. “And how to play guitar. And all of the Upside-Down stuff. You’re always here.”

Steve wraps Max up in his arms, dragging her to the ground next to Dustin similarly draped over Eddie. It’s not the six little nuggets Steve asked for.

But these kids– their kids– are so much more than he ever could’ve hoped for.

~~~

To everyone out there who doesn't have a father, your father is absolute shit, or you mom was both parents -- I hope you have as good a Sunday as possible.

[wynnyfryd]

@griefabyss69 asked if anyone had written a fic where someone teaches el all the good swear words so i said:

gimme the fic where hopper’s like “you’re not allowed to hang out with dustin anymore” and then he marches up to steve’s house intending to be all “harrington control your sailor-mouthed son” but instead he finds steve and eddie shirtless in the backyard blasting music and covering each other in hickeys and he’s like, actually i’d rather have more war flashbacks than see that ever again. el, hang out with whoever you want i’m going fishing

cut to wayne and hopper by the river. hopper’s stiff-backed and his left eye’s twitching but wayne (who’s already caught eddie with a handful of boys by now and has given up entirely on the keep the door cracked policy in favor of just giving the kid condoms with a sex ed pamphlet or two) is relaxed as can be, whistling a tune and tapping his foot like he thinks he’s in a rocking chair, and he’s all “first time?”

“fuck off and get me another beer i don’t wanna talk about it”

[farfaras]

Okay but what about fake dating AU but NOT the way you think. Hear me out okay.

Steve being tired of Dustin telling him over and over to ask out Robin bc they’re obviously in love. Steve has enough and says the only thing that he thinks will get Dustin off his back.

“BECAUSE IM GAY DUSTIN”

“That’s not true!”

“I have a boyfriend!”

“Who?!”

“Jonathan!”

Jonathan is chill and agrees to fake date. They tell the party they’re dating. Steve has a gay awakening. But Jonathan is not his type really. Realizes he likes metal heads when he and Eddie bond about being queer. Eddie Munson is incredibly jealous. ‘HES ACTUALLY GAY BUT TAKEN KILL ME NOW’ Eddie and Jonathan almost get into a fight. Chaos, man, chaos.

First part now > here < !!

[steveseddie]

sweet as pumpkin pie

steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,1 k | cw: none | tags: dustin & steve, dustin & eddie, eddie knows how to bake, steve has a crush, getting together, first kiss, steve pov

for @steddie-spooktober day twenty-four, prompt “pumpkin” 

read on ao3

Pounding at the door has Steve scrambling to his feet and hurtling towards the front door. He glances at Eddie on the couch and is relieved to find he’s still napping soundly, unbothered by the noise. 

Steve doesn’t want him to wake up, not when Eddie showed up an hour earlier looking exhausted after nightmares kept him up all night. The last thing Steve wants is for Eddie to lose any more sleep because whoever is at the door grows impatient and knocks harder. 

So he fumbles with the lock and swings the door open to reveal–

“Dustin?”  

“Steve, we have an emergency!” Henderson shrieks, his loud volume making Steve flinch.

His annoyance is immediately replaced by worry as the kid’s words register. His body tenses up, his fingers itch for his nail bat. “An Upside Down emergency?” 

“Worse!” Dustin says. Steve’s stomach churns and he feels sick. He tries to think what could be worse than an Upside Down emergency– “A baking emergency!” He finishes before Steve can spiral. 

He blinks at him. “A baking–” he starts in incredulity. “Henderson! Jesus fucking Christ, man.” He reaches over and flicks his stupid Thinking Cap. 

“What?” Dustin protests, swatting Steve’s hand away.

“That’s not worse than an Upside Down emergency! Nothing is worse than an Upside Down emergency!”

“Fine, but it’s up there,” Dustin argues stubbornly.

“Whatever,” Steve says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wishes Eddie was awake so that they could share an exasperated look. “What’s the matter, shithead?”

“You know my mom isn’t home this week, right?”

“Yeah, she’s visiting family or something.” She told Steve as much when she called and asked him to keep an eye on her Dusty. 

“Right, well, the science club is in charge of the baking sale this week and she volunteered to bring something, but she forgot it was this week!” 

Steve blinks at him, failing to see what the problem is. “So? She left you money, right? Just buy some cupcakes at Melvald’s and bring those.”

Dustin gasps, affronted. “Steve, it’s a bake sale! Not a store-bought sale!”

“Things at stores were baked at some point too, butthead,” Steve argues, but Dustin keeps looking at him like he’s being stupid. “Geez, fine, what do you want me to do about it anyway?”

“I need you to bake me something, duh.”

Steve snorts. “Sure, yeah, I’d love to, except I don’t know how to bake.”

Dustin frowns. “Bullshit! You cook for us all the time!”

“Yeah, cook like actual food, not pies and shit,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the door.

“It’s the same thing!”

Steve thinks back on the time he tried to bake brownies for Nancy and how he almost burned his house down in the process. “It’s so not,” he says in a bitchy tone. 

Dustin groans, scrubbing his hands down his face. “But Steve, I need a pie!”

“Sorry, kid, you’re gonna have to ask someone else. Maybe Mrs. Wheeler or–”

“I can do it.”

Both of their heads snap towards the living room entrance where Eddie stands, rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

Christ, he’s cute, Steve thinks, and immediately feels his cheeks heat up. He hopes Eddie is still too groggy from sleep to notice. “Do what, Eds?” 

“Make Henderson a pie,” Eddie says, waving his hand at the kid. 

Dustin blinks at him with wide eyes. “You know how to bake a pie?” 

“Yup.”

Steve finds himself asking, “How?” 

Eddie snorts amusedly. “We have ovens in the trailer park too, rich boy,” he snarks but his words lack any heat. “Though I might have to borrow yours for this, ours hasn’t worked since the turkey incident of ‘84.”

Dustin and Steve exchange a look, equally shocked by what they’re hearing. 

“So,” Eddie goes on, clapping his hands together. “What kind of pie do you need, Henderson?” He asks as slides his Reeboks on, which he left by Steve’s door when he showed up. “Cherry, pumpkin, apple?”

“Uh, pumpkin?”

Eddie flashes him a dimpled grin. “My favorite,” he says, grabbing his car keys from the table at the entrance. “Let’s go then, shrimp.”

“I thought you were gonna make it here,” Steve says, confused by Eddie leaving.

“Gotta go shopping first, Stevie,” Eddie explains, van keys spinning around his finger. “And I gotta dust off the old recipe, it’s been a while since I used it.”

“Ugh, but I hate grocery shopping!” Dustin whines, earning a smack on the back of his head from Eddie.

“It’s your pie, Henderson. Suck it up.” 

Dustin scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Eddie turns to Steve, batting his long eyelashes at him. “You mind cleaning the oven for me in the meantime, sweetheart?”

Steve should protest that he didn’t agree to help, but with Eddie’s big doe eyes staring at him like that and him calling him sweetheart, all he can muster is a weak, “Yeah, okay.”

Eddie grins, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he grabs the back of Dustin’s neck and pushes him towards his van. “Be back in a few, honey!” He calls back to Steve. “And then we’re baking a pie!”

Steve watches them go and closes the door once the pair gets in the van. 

He’s in the kitchen, ready to clean his oven for Eddie when his words register in Steve’s brain.

“Wait– we?”

***

Eddie and Dustin come back an hour later, carrying everything they need. 

Dustin dumps his bags on the counter and immediately tries to retreat to the living room but Eddie moves faster. He grabs onto the handle of his backpack, pulling him to an abrupt stop, Dustin’s limbs flailing like a puppet on strings. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, tugging Henderson back into the kitchen. “I told you, it’s your pie so you’re helping.”

“But my mom never forces me to help!” He protests, trying to shrug off his backpack to escape. 

Eddie wraps an arm around his neck instead. 

“Yeah, well. Your mom is a saint, I’m not,” he says, letting him go once Dustin stops struggling and handing him a whisk and a list of ingredients for him to mix. 

Begrudgingly, Dustin accepts them and sets off to work on making the filling while Eddie and Steve work on the crust. 

Steve has to focus really hard on following Eddie’s instructions correctly. Not because the instructions are particularly complicated or anything, mostly it’s just ‘add this’ or ‘measure that’ or ‘hand me those’. It’s because Eddie is very distracting like this– with his hair tied in a messy bun, the sleeves of his flannel rolled over his forearms, flour smeared on his face.

And then there’s the familiarity with which he moves around Steve’s kitchen after spending so much time here, helping Steve cook or just keeping him company. And the confidence with which he measures, mixes, and adds ingredients, or tells Steve to do it. 

Steve always had a thing for competence. It’s why he was so attracted to Nancy, whether she was getting all of her chemistry flashcard questions right or shooting monsters in the face. It’s why he started crushing on Robin after she cracked that Russian code. Steve knows that if he had been there when Eddie played the most metal concert ever, and he had seen him shredding his guitar the way Dustin describes it, he would’ve been too busy drooling over him to fight Vecna. 

Eddie knowing how to make a pumpkin pie from scratch is no different– and if it weren’t for Dustin, Steve probably would’ve already pinned Eddie against the kitchen counter to sloppily make out with him. 

For now, Steve tries his best to pay attention to what Eddie asks him to do and not get distracted by thoughts of kissing him or dragging him upstairs or–

He realizes he fails when Eddie has to smear flour on his nose to get his attention. 

“Hey,” Steve protests weakly, going cross-eyed trying to stare at the white powder on his nose.

Eddie chuckles. “There you are, I’ve been talking to you for like, five minutes.” 

“Oh.” Steve must’ve gotten distracted staring at Eddie’s arms as he expertly kneaded the dough and rolled it into balls. He glances down at the counter and realizes he’s done already. Then he glances around the kitchen and notices it’s just the two of them. 

“Where’s Henderson?”

“Well, the filling is ready and we have to leave these babies in the fridge for two hours,” he says, holding up one of the dough balls. “So I sent him to pick a movie for us to watch in the meantime.”

“Oh, okay,” Steve says, wondering how he could’ve been so deep in thought that he missed all of that happening. He grabs one of the dough balls while Eddie grabs the other one, following him to the fridge. “Do we need this much pie crust?” He asks as Eddie opens the door. 

“I thought we could make two pies so I doubled the recipe. Henderson can take one and we can have the other,” Eddie says, sticking the dough in the fridge. “That way you can try it and I can take some back to Wayne. I don’t think we’ve had any homemade pumpkin pie since my mom died.”

Steve hums. “Is this her recipe?”

The smile Eddie gives Steve over his shoulder is a little sad. “Yeah, she taught me how to make it years ago.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” Steve says softly, knocking their shoulders together. 

Eddie spins on his heels, leaning back against the fridge. “I just hope I didn’t fuck it up, it’s been a while,” he chuckles, hanging a hand from his neck. 

Steve shrugs. “You can always blame me. Or Dustin.”

Eddie throws his head back, laughing. There’s a streak of flour on his neck and Steve has to fight the urge to clean it up with his tongue. “Nah, Stevie, you two are doing a great job,” Eddie says with a dimpled grin, “even the kid with his fucking attitude.”

Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. “Right? You’d think he’s doing us a favor.”

“Entitled little shit,” Eddie mutters, but the corners of his mouth tick up.

From the living room, Dustin yells at them, his voice dripping with annoyance. “You guys are gonna watch the movie or what?” 

Steve and Eddie share a look and start laughing. 

***

Two hours later the two of them are back in the kitchen, rolling out the pie crust. 

Or at least, Eddie is. Steve keeps messing it up. 

“Fuck,” he mutters as he screws it up again. “You know what? You do it.”

“Come on, Stevie, it’s not that hard,” Eddie says, knocking his bony hip against Steve’s. 

Whatever protest Steve is about to make dies in his throat when Eddie leaves his perfectly rolled-out pie crust and moves to stand behind him, pressing his body against Steve and Steve’s body against the counter, his arms wrapping around him so he can guide his hands on the rolling pin. 

“You gotta start at the center and work outwards,” Eddie says, speaking into Steve’s ear as he shows him how to do it. Steve can barely focus on anything that isn’t the entire length of Eddie’s body pressed against him. “Yeah, just like that.”

“Christ,” Steve mutters. Eddie’s words whispered lowly into his ear are making Steve’s head swim with all kinds of ideas. It’s a good thing that Eddie seems oblivious to it. 

“Now you do it,” Eddie says, letting go of Steve’s hands and holding Steve’s waist instead. 

Steve’s movements are a little jerky, but he manages to finish rolling out the pie crust successfully, even with Eddie standing behind him the entire time. 

“Great job, Stevie,” Eddie says, hooking his chin on Steve’s shoulder to look down at the counter. 

Steve makes the mistake of turning his head, leaving their faces only a few inches away from each other. Steve’s breath hitches and his heart starts jackhammering against his ribcage. It feels like it might explode out of his chest when he notices Eddie’s eyes unmistakably flicker down to his lips. 

And of course, that’s when Dustin comes barreling into the kitchen. 

“Are you guys done?” He asks, his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently. 

Steve drops the rolling pin and Eddie jumps back a few steps. Dustin’s eyes dart curiously between the two. 

Eddie clears his throat. “We’d be done sooner if you helped us,” he says, his voice coming out a little strangled. 

Dustin gives them an innocent look, eyes wide like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. “But you're doing such a great job, Eddie.” 

Eddie doesn’t fall for it. He snorts, throwing a kitchen cloth at his face. “Shoo, you gremlin!”

He doesn’t wait for Eddie to tell him twice, hurtling towards the living room. Steve watches in silence as Eddie carefully places the pie crust on the pan and pours the filling Dustin made.

“Now we wait?” Steve asks once both pies are inside the preheated oven. 

“Now we wait,” Eddie says, smiling at Steve. His eyes catch on something and then he reaches out to wipe flour from Steve’s cheek, his thumb lingering on his cheekbone for a second too long. 

His eyes flicker to Steve’s lips one last time before he goes to join Dustin in the living room. 

***

“I present to you," Eddie starts, spinning around on his heels, holding the pie in his hands, “your pumpkin pie, my good sir.”

Dustin grins, letting out something between a laugh and a snort. “Dude, it looks so good!”

“I told you I could bake,” Eddie says, grinning smugly. 

“Hey, we helped,” Steve says with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Eddie sets the pie down on the counter so he can crowd Steve against it. “Oh, I know, baby, I could never have done it without you.”

Heat builds up in Steve’s cheeks. It’s a good thing that Eddie gets distracted by Dustin rounding the counter and wrapping his arms around his middle in an unexpected hug. “Thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie ruffles Dustin’s curls. “You’re welcome, kid.”

Before Steve can protest once again that he helped, thank you very much, Dustin lets go of Eddie and hugs Steve too. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Of course, buddy.”

“I’ll tell Mom to have you both over for dinner when she comes back,” he says, adjusting his Thinking Cap. 

“Hell yeah,” Eddie says, licking his lips like he’s already tasting Mrs. Henderson’s cooking. “You just earned yourself a drive home, mister.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, no way I’m letting you ruin my–” Steve clears his throat, “ our pie by taking it home on your bike.” He grabs Dustin’s shoulders, and once the kid grabs the pie, he steers him in the direction of the front door. “I’ll come back to help you clean up,” he tells Steve over his shoulder. 

“You better.”

With a wink, they disappear through the kitchen archway, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts. 

And he can’t help but think about Eddie– his eyes on Steve’s lips, his thumb softly brushing over Steve’s cheekbone, his chest pressed against Steve’s back. 

He forces himself to start cleaning up, just so he can stay busy and not drive himself crazy thinking about what might happen when Eddie comes back, now that Dustin won’t be here. 

He’s elbow-deep in rinsing water when he hears the front door open, followed by Eddie’s whistling as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie,” he says, waltzing in, “I told you I’d help!” 

Without turning around, Steve shrugs. “Grab a cloth, you can help me dry.”

He hears a cabinet open and close as Eddie presumably looks for a clean kitchen cloth but when he appears next to Steve, he’s got a plate with a slice of pumpkin pie on it. 

Steve purses his lips. “That’s not a kitchen towel,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Nope, but I couldn’t wait to try it,” he says, leaning back on the counter, facing Steve. 

Steve gives the slice of pie a pointed look. “Well?”

Eddie grabs a forkful of pie and shoves it into his mouth while Steve stares expectantly at him, waiting for his reaction. It comes in the way of a sinful moan that makes Steve want to shove his head into the water to stop the heat from creeping up his cheeks. 

“I- uh,” he clears his throat, “I take it we didn’t fuck it up?”

Eddie licks his lips, and Steve’s hands tighten around the bowl he was rinsing. “Nop, it’s perfect. Just like my mama used to make it.”

Steve smiles at Eddie’s smug little tilt of his head as he shoves another forkful into his mouth. 

“Hey, I wanna try it too,” he says, nudging Eddie’s side with his elbow. 

He expects Eddie to feed him some pie since his hands are still under the rinsing water and it’s probably what Eddie intends to do, he scoops some pie up with his fork–

But then he hesitates.

His eyes dart over Stece’s face, searching for something. He either finds it or gives up, dropping the fork back onto the plate and placing it on the counter next to him. 

Steve cocks his head, puppy-like, but before he can get a word out, Eddie grabs his cheeks and kisses Steve square on the lips. 

He instinctively kisses back– or does his best to do so considering his hands are still in the water. He moves his lips against Eddie’s and when Eddie laps at his bottom lip, Steve opens his mouth, letting Eddie’s tongue slide inside. 

He tastes like pumpkin pie, is Steve’s first coherent thought, followed by– holy shit, I’m kissing Eddie.

It’s that realization that makes Steve retrieve his hands from the sink, dripping water all over the floor, to wrap his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. He kisses him more deeply, chasing after that taste of pumpkin pie, and smoke, and cinnamon, and Eddie. 

They pull back when they finally need to come up for air but stay wrapped up in each other. 

Steve’s eyes dip down to Eddie’s lips, red and slick with spit. He hears them moving but realizes he didn’t hear whatever Eddie said from the blood still rushing through his ears. 

“Sorry, what?” 

Eddie chuckles a little breathlessly. “I said, what did you think of the pie?” 

“Oh, um. Good, it’s–” Steve licks his lips. “It’s good.” 

Eddie’s mouth twitches with a hint of a smirk. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm but, uh, I think I need– I need to give it another try, you know?” Steve stammers out, watching as Eddie’s eyes go a little dark at that. He licks his lips and Steve does his best not to let out a whine. 

“Come here then, pumpkin,” Eddie says, pulling Steve forward, mashing their lips together. 

Neither of them points out it would be easier for Steve to grab a forkful of pie– they’re too busy chasing after the taste of it on each other’s mouths to even try. 

[gayphob1a]

STWG Daily Drabble 9/30/23

prompt: drunk talk

“Ssteeeve! Over.” Dustin’s voice comes over the radio, staticky and slurred.

It’s 1 AM, Steve has a shift first thing in the morning, and he really should be sleeping, but he’s been nervously awaiting this call all night. His kids are finally leaving the nest, going to their first party and he knew this meant they would be calling him for a ride at some point, so he kept the volume up on his radio. When he doesn’t answer fast enough, a whole chorus of clumsy voices crackle over the radio. 

“Steven Anita Harrington! Over.” Mike starts giggling like a mad man at the very incorrect middle name he’s decided to give Steve. In the background, Steve is pretty sure he can hear someone throwing up.

“Are you guys okay?” Steve asks, and then after a moment of silence, adds: “Over.”

“Thank you, Steven! We are great! Over.” There’s a cacophony of giggles and Steve is pretty sure they forgot why they even called,

“Do you need a ride? Over.” 

“To where? Over.” 

“Y- Dumbass, to your homes. Okay stay where you are, I'm coming to get you.” Steve zips a hoodie halfway up his bare chest, too tired and annoyed to put a shirt on, and grabs his keys on the way out the door. He’d had the good sense to make them tell them who was throwing the party, and a couple minutes later, he’s pulling up to a house that’s not too far from his own. He spots his gaggle of drunkards immediately, the lot of them huddled around the radio, shaking it and hitting the side like it’ll split at the seams and drop candy. “Hey! Dumbasses! Get in the car,” he hollers.

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas look up from the radio, dumbfounded. “Steve, what are you doing here?” Lucas asks.

“Dude, I just told you I was coming to pick you up.”

Mike scoffs and puts an arm around Will who, yup that definitely was puking he heard, because Will is doubled over in the bushes. “You didn’t say ‘over’, dumbass.”

“Just get in the car! You guys are sleeping at mine tonight, or your parents will kill me for letting this happen.” The boys stumble towards the car, fighting over the handle for the front seat when a large hand appears out of nowhere and pushes them out of the way.

“Nuh uh kiddos, respect your elders. I ride shotgun.” Eddie says, swaying only a fraction as bad as the kids. They grumble, but agree and help Will into the backseat. “And a good evening to you, boys.” Eddie says, staring directly at Steve’s chest. 

From the back seat there’s a chorus of “Boo! Weak! Do better!” Even from Will, who is barely holding his head up off Mike’s shoulder. Eddie takes the challenge as Steve starts driving back to his house.

“I’ve always wanted to live in the jungle,” he says. Steve has to swat Eddie’s hand away from running through his chest hair, desperately trying to be annoyed and not aroused in front of the kids. But Eddie knows Steve knows he has a thing for his hair, and Steve has a thing for anything that gets Eddie riled up. 

“What are you even doing here, Eds? I thought you were at home.”

“Team bonding?” Eddie tries.

“He was selling drugs!” Dustin hollers, absolutely zero control over his volume. 

Eddie whips around in his seat to yell “You motherfucker!” at Dustin.

“Nope,” the kid retorts. “Pretty sure that’s you.”

When they pull into Steve’s driveway, he orders the kids to go to the living room and go to sleep. The boys slowly fumble their way out of the car and through the front door, all the while Eddie stares at Steve with a lusty fire burning in his eyes. 

“You wore that just to torture me, didn’t you?” Eddie asks.

“Eddie, I didn’t even know you were at the party. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“OR we could stay out here and fog up these windows.”

“Nice try, my beautiful little distillery, you are far too drunk. Now be a good boy and get in bed, and maybe I’ll let you pet me you little weirdo.”

Eddie unbuckles and throws the door open so fast that he trips over his feet and face plants getting out of the car. He hops up, no worse for wear, and turns around to salute Steve. “Sir, yes sir!” He yells, and sprints through the house to Steve’s bedroom.

[mrsjellymunson]

KNOCK AT THE CABIN | Part Two

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Written for @bettyfrommars, @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing ’s excellent Stranger Prompts challenge - thank you for this, friends!

Series Summary: After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But how much has he changed?

Chapter summary: Some answers, more questions 😉

WC: ~8.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, series CW for eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut, post-S4, Upside Down exists, dark/supernatural themes, emotional scenes, eventual friends-to-lovers, descriptions of minor injuries, food/eating, mentions of canon-typical torture/experiments.

A/N: This series contains a lot of themes and scenarios that I haven’t written for before, I’d love to know what you think! Please comment and reblog, it means the world to writers, and reblogs mean work gets seen. Abundant thanks to @the-unforgivenn for beta-ing and playing The Thesaurus Game 😛 This series has a taglist so if you’d like to be on either it or my general one just lemme know in a comment, ask or message, I’d love to have you on board 🙏💙

Prev: Prologue Part One

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You wake earlier than they do, shards of sunlight peeking through Steve’s pathetically thin and badly arranged curtains hitting you straight in the face.

You don’t move initially, enjoying the sound of both boys’ soft, rhythmic breaths, grateful they’ve both had the opportunity to rest and sleep.

You use this moment of stillness to allow the events of the previous night to filter through your consciousness. Eddie’s still here. He’s somewhat warmer than he was, and is still breathing. You’ll take all of those as a win.

His arm is still wrapped around your ribs, his chest against your back. During the night, one of his thighs has made its way between yours, and his hips are now pressed up against the swell of your ass.

You suppose that if you look at it objectively, he’s in a pretty good approximation of the Recovery Position. Good for him. Promoting healing, aiding recovery, and all that.

And you suppose that if you look at it subjectively, having the entire length of Eddie’s body squashed against the entire length of yours, and having his leg pressed against you just there, stirs feelings that are inappropriate for you to be having right now. Such as how much you’re enjoying it. How safe you feel. How much you wish there weren’t even these small, thin pieces of fabric separating you from him…

He snuffles behind you, groaning softly, and his arm contracts, pulling you even closer to him. You’d much prefer it was more than just the involuntary tensing of a waking man that’s causing him to do this, but push that thought to the back of your mind.

You slowly turn your head as far as you can, only able to see a little of him out of the corner of your eye. His hair is fuzzy as hell, but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

In what you hope is a soft and comforting voice, you ask,

“Morning, big guy. How’re you feeling?”

Eddie’s voice is cracked and broken, like he hasn’t used it in a while. It’s gravelly and low as he mumbles,

“Mmf. A little sore, but warm. God, it feels so good to be warm…”

His arm clenches around you again, and he pushes his face into the back of your neck.

Trying to cover an unbidden moan, and inject some levity, you reply,

“Well, thank goodness for that, otherwise all of mine and Steve’s efforts last night would’ve been for nothing.”

Eddie shifts, starting to get a sense of where he is and the situation he’s found himself in. It causes Steve to stir behind him and let out a little groan of his own, and you feel Eddie freeze.

Trying to calm him and keep this obviously bizarre situation simple and light, you mumble,

“Yeah, body heat seemed to be the best way to keep you warm. I don’t suppose waking up naked between me and Harrington was on your bucket list, right?”

Eddie’s cheeks don’t exactly flush (going from pale grey to pale pink far too much of a gradient to be entirely achievable right now), but you do notice a little warmth appear in them.

Eddie jests, at least you think he’s jesting, as his grip around you tightens again, stronger this time as his muscles wake up, and he chuckles lightly as he smooshes his face into your hair,

“Well, it's definitely not the worst place I’ve ever woken up.”

This rouses Steve enough that he’s now fully awake, and he seems to remember where he is too. He moves away from Eddie and sits up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Glancing over, he mumbles,

“Hey, man. So, there’s literally hundreds of things I wanna ask you right now, but I guess I’ll start with, uh, how are you?”

Steve’s face contorts with a mix of incredulity and embarrassment at the utter banality of the question he just asked.

Unfazed, Eddie replies,

“Honestly, dude? I’m not entirely sure…”

He tries to shift his legs to sit up, but realises how enmeshed they are with yours, and inadvertently pushes his thigh up even closer to you.

Steve continues, unable to stop himself.

“What happened? Where have you been? How did you even get here?”

Eddie lets out a long, low exhale.

Finally picking up on how tired Eddie still is, and how tangled your and Eddie’s limbs are, you guess Steve decides he doesn’t want to get into any of that right now and declares,

“Y’know what, I’m gonna go make coffee.”

He grabs some sweats and a crumpled tee, and heads out towards the kitchen, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Fuck, this is awkward.

After a short pause, you mumble,

“Yeah, I suppose we should get up too. The kids are gonna be beside themselves, I’d prepare yourself for a barrage of questions if I were you.”

Exhaling, you somewhat reluctantly extricate yourself from Eddie’s embrace, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for the pile of clothes you’re grateful you had the foresight to put out last night.

Pulling on jeans, a worn t-shirt and a woollen jumper, you sit back down and turn to Eddie, who’s now leaning up against Steve’s battered headboard, sheets bunched around his waist.

You notice his eyes are still sunken and red-rimmed, but he’s lost some of the sallowness that he had last night, and his features are significantly more relaxed.

As he sits up you have the chance to observe his torso properly. He’s thinner, and much paler, than the boy you remember. The odd appearance of his musculature that you could see last night is still abundantly present.

And there are scars. Lots of scars. They vary in appearance and colour, rough slashes and violent starbursts, in silvery white, muted pinks and shades of angry purples and reds. Some look smooth and well-healed, whilst others are raised and jagged. Some transect the inked designs you came to know so well, and it looks like he might’ve lost a nipple.

Realising you’ve been staring, you tear your eyes away and move them instead to Eddie’s face. He looks terrified, like he’s worried you’re going to find him abhorrent and run away screaming.

He starts to reach for the covers, to cover himself, but you lunge forwards and grab one of his hands in yours. You don’t break his gaze as you tell him,

“It’s okay, Eddie. You don’t have to hide yourself from me.”

His face softens, but his eyebrows remain pinched and his lips are still pressed tightly together.

Finally looking down as you stroke over his hand with both of yours, you notice that the wounds that you bathed and tended to only a few hours ago are practically healed, only a few areas of redness remaining where there were bleeding gashes and scarlet grazes. Some have almost disappeared.

You decide not to focus on this and concentrate instead on the fact that your friend, your best friend, the one you all thought was dead, is back with you here, right now.

Grasping his hand in both of yours, you murmur,

“However it happened, it’s really, really good to have you back, you know.”

He smiles then, and although it reaches his eyes, it does little to lift the grey pallor of his face.

He brings his other hand over, and as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles he notices the ring on your thumb. He runs a pad over the contours of the skull.

“You- You kept this?”

“Of course! I wear it every day. It helps me remember my best friend.” Your voice gets quiet as you add, unsure whether you’re overstepping.

“It helps keep you close to me.”

You hold each other's gaze for a beat too long, and Eddie’s lips open as if he’s going to say something.

Before he has the chance, a ball of anxiety rises in your throat, and you decide you can’t take the risk of him… what?

Telling you you’re stupid? That it doesn’t mean anything? That he wants his ring back?

You know none of this sounds like anything Eddie would say, but in your fragile, exhausted state you need to protect yourself from the risk of emotional harm, no matter how small.

You remove your hand from his and bend to retrieve the clothes Steve left for him, reasoning with a small smile,

“We don’t want you getting cold again, right?”

Eddie starts to dress, grunting a little as his limbs start working again. He only has time to pull on the worn sweatshirt when the door bursts open and the kids rush in. Dustin first, swiftly followed by Mike and Lucas, whilst Will and Jane hang back in the doorway.

The three teens leap, grinning, onto Steve’s bed, whooping and hollering and rolling around. They’re full of questions and theories and tales of what they’ve been doing whilst he’s been gone, all talking over one another.

Whilst Eddie is smiling and laughing and you can tell he’s buoyed by their love and exuberance, you also know he still needs to recover from last night, let alone whatever else he might have been through these past few weeks. So after a few minutes you shoo them out, instructing them to go help Steve make breakfast.

Dustin’s the last to leave, pausing in the doorway as he turns back, running his hand down his cheek and saying, with an infinitely adoring expression on his face,

“I can’t believe you’re here, man. It’s so good to have you back.”

They share friendly smiles before Dustin turns on his heel and follows the others, his voice decreasing in volume as he heads down the hallway yelling,

“I’m on toast duty today! You guys ate all the good peanut butter last time…”

You both snicker at their antics, Eddie shaking his head a little.

You want to say more, but settle for,

“They missed you. We all did.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows and rolls his lips inwards into a tight-lipped smile, and you sense that he’s just as emotional as you all are.

He continues dressing, and you’re relieved the kids didn’t see Eddie’s scars, for all their sakes. You’re not sure whether they’re ready to revisit what happened in the Upside Down, and you don't want Eddie’s first day back with you all to involve him having to uncomfortably explain where they all came from.

He dons the rest of the unfamiliar clothing, and eventually stands, facing you. He spreads his arms wide and pulls a goofy face, raising his eyebrows high and flattening his mouth into a thin line, knowing how unlike ‘him’ he must look right now.

You never imagined you’d ever see your favourite black-loving metalhead in an oversized heather grey Hawkins Athletic sweatshirt, worn navy sweatpants and fluffy white sports socks, but needs must, and at least it’s all clean and he’s staying warm.

There’s a crash in the kitchen, startling both of you, but it prompts you to suggest,

“Come on, let’s go see what chaos those guys are causing.”

You direct him to the front of the house, and as Eddie shuffles into the kitchen all eyes turn to him. You see the kids take in his fluffy hair and new garb. He notices and, preemptively gesturing to himself and in a very close approximation of his Dungeon Master voice, says,

“If anyone says anything about this, I swear I will kill you. Got it?”

Mike and Lucas try to act like they weren’t even looking, and Dustin raises his hands in supplication. Jane laughs at the boys’ responses and Will smirks at the shenanigans, and you’re certain he and Eddie are going to get along just fine.

The kids have made everyone a simple breakfast of boiled eggs, toast and fresh oatmeal and they bring it to the large farmhouse-style table as everyone gets situated. Craving his proximity, you take the chair next to Eddie. Steve’s made a large pot of hot coffee, which is swiftly devoured by the four adults and almost instantly requires replenishment.

The kids want to fill Eddie in on, well, everything. Over breakfast there’s much chatter about what’s been happening in town, how the three of you ended up staying here, how kind and supportive Wayne and Owens have been, even a somewhat discombobulating discussion of what Eddie’s funeral was like. Plus there’s tales from the boys about D&D and stuff that’s important to the teens, most of which you zone out of.

Eddie is also properly introduced to the two he doesn’t know. He greets Will with a broad smile and claps both his hands around the boy’s slender one, a symbolic gesture full of characteristic Eddie warmth, welcoming another sheep even though this particular one has known the others for many years.

You don’t think anyone else notices, but you don’t miss the moment of extended eye contact and tiny nods that are exchanged between him and Jane, as they are introduced and shake hands.

Eddie seems to have a good appetite, devouring four warm, runny-yolked eggs, three slices of toast slathered with butter and jelly, and two large bowls of oatmeal with honey and syrup in rapid succession.

There’s some syrup on his chin when he’s finished. You want to clean it off with your thumb and suck it into your mouth, but you resist the urge.

The food cheers him, even seems to put a little colour in Eddie’s cheeks. Well, perhaps not colour exactly, but a move from grey to white is certainly progress. It’s hardly Cordon Bleu cuisine, but Eddie’s hoovered it up like it’s the best meal he’s ever had. You wonder what he’s been surviving on all this time to make such simple stuff seem so luxurious.

Coffee mugs are refreshed, the table is cleared, and there follows a semi-formal exchange of the personal items of Eddie’s that are in the cabin. Lucas returns his pocket knife, which Eddie thanks him for with a bro handshake and a half-hug, and Dustin gets down on one knee and presents him with his wallet chain on outstretched hands, as if he’s presenting a weapon or battle trophy to his commander. Eddie ruffles his hair and brings him in for a crushing bear hug.

Robin and Steve return his crucifix and boar’s head rings, which he dons, and you can’t help noticing that they’re slightly looser than they used to be. You’re grateful nobody questions why you don’t return the skull ring to him, or seems to notice the knowing glance and small smile that he gives you.

Dishes are cleaned and yet more coffee is brewed, and you head to the utility room to see how Eddie’s clothes are doing in the (noisy, and possibly unsafe) drier. As you return there’s a lull in the conversation.

Ever the direct one, Robin can’t stand the not knowing any longer, and as Steve pours the next round of coffees she blurts,

“So, what the fuck happened? We thought you were dead. You were dead. They fucking buried you!”

The kitchen falls silent for a moment, nobody sure how much Eddie wants to divulge or relive.

He wraps his palms around his steaming mug, and takes a long, slow, deep breath in and out before he starts talking.

“I don’t remember much after that night with the, uh, Demobats. I kinda remember being jostled into a van, or a military-type vehicle maybe? And tubes, bright lights, people shouting…

“The next thing I know, I’m in some kind of lab, a poky room with a tiny cot and metal furniture, and people coming in at all hours to prod at me and stick me with needles. They did all sorts of tests and injected me with shit, and they wouldn’t tell me what any of it was.

“I’m not sure whether it’s a good or a bad thing that I can’t remember a lot of detail. It’s mostly just pain, agony, and being either chained or locked up. And screaming, so much screaming... Whether that was me or the others, I don’t know.”

You interject,

“There- There were others?”

He nods slowly.

“Yeah, definitely more than just me. I have no idea how many, who they were, what happened to them...”

His hands start trembling, and he lets go of the mug that’s started to shake in his grip, quickly putting his hands in his lap.

“I think the injections they were giving me were concoctions made from the… things they found… down there.

“Owens visited me a couple of times. He said he didn’t like what was being done to me but he wasn’t able to change anything. The last time I saw him he told me he was being transferred to a different site and didn’t think he’d be able to visit again, but he wanted me to know there was someone on his side.”

There’s a brief pause before he continues,

“The last, uhh, experiment was the worst-”

Eddie screws up his face and clenches his teeth at the memory, and balls up one fist, bringing it up to his pursed lips. He squeezes his eyes closed, and a tear appears at the corner of one eye.

You don’t know whether it’s the right thing to do, but you grab his other hand under the table, hoping it’ll give him comfort but fully expecting him to flinch away.

He doesn’t, and his hand clamps around yours in a fierce grip, almost crushing it.

Voice trembling and breaking, he continues.

“It was- Jesus H Christ- it was like liquid fucking fire. All I remember was feeling like they’d injected me with molten lava, and then there was so much shouting, and hands holding me down, and then everything went black...”

He pauses, and nobody else speaks.

Steve swallows, the tap drips into the sink and Robin’s rings clink softly against her coffee mug as she turns it anxiously.

“And then… And then the next thing I remember is coming to, and feeling cold, so- so fucking cold. And darkness, absolute darkness. And I was so scared, and I just started scraping and scratching at whatever was over me, and just kept scrabbling and digging until… there wasn’t anything over me anymore.”

You’re all stunned.

Someone says a quiet ‘fuck’, and you think you hear a sob, perhaps from Dustin.

Steve remains silent but runs a hand through his hair, palm coming to rest over his mouth, and Robin mutters a soft,

“Shit, Eddie.”

You all realise that Eddie wasn’t lying on a slab at all for these past two months, but was being experimented on, and it takes a long moment to sink in.

Eventually, Eddie says,

“Fuck. They really buried me, huh?”

To illustrate his point and as an attempt to inject some humour into the moment, he loosely combs his fingers through his fluffy locks and asks, “When I got here, did I have stuff in my hair?”

There are a few chuckles, and someone throws a balled up paper napkin at him.

There’s another short pause where nobody says anything, but then it’s like a dam breaks and everyone starts talking at once. Robin and Steve make comparisons with the Russians, the kids offer D&D analogies and half-baked scientific theories, and people ask Will and Jane what they think.

For the rest of the morning much discussion ensues, as well as the consumption of store-brand cookies and even more coffee, and you all try to fill in the blanks. Whilst some of the kids interject with ideas and suggestions, others sit quietly, mostly listening. You wonder quite how much secondhand trauma this is going to cause all of them.

As a group you eventually surmise that some shadowy branch of the military was battering Eddie and the others with all sorts of tests, and injecting them with unknown substances, goals unknown and refusing to tell anyone what they were.

Owens clearly never agreed with their approach, and it sounds like he tried to distance himself as much as possible.

The military finally took their experiments too far. Thinking they’d killed him, they eventually released Eddie’s body to his only family, Wayne, and allowed him to be buried.

Unbeknownst to them, their final experiment was the most successful, it just took longer to manifest than the others. Weeks, in fact. Just long enough for the scientists (if you could even call them that) to lose any expectation of a recovery, and for Owens and Wayne to organise a funeral.

Eddie had awoken, dazed, trapped and freezing and with no idea where he was, and had somehow managed to smash the lid of his coffin and scramble his way to the surface. On a rainy night, miles from anywhere.

Finally, Mike is the first to ask the question you think most of you have been contemplating.

“Dude, how did you even find us?”

At particularly painful points in his oration, Eddie has looked to you, seemingly finding comfort in your face, and his gaze doesn’t leave yours as he replies,

“Honestly? I don’t really know. I just had this… feeling… that I needed to come in this direction. And the closer I got, the more certain I was that this is where I’d find you.” Hurriedly, he looks around the rest of the group and adds, “Find you all.”

He carefully lays the hand not holding yours flat onto the table, and, eyes fixed on the faded floral tablecloth, he chokes back a sob as he asks a question that he’s clearly been holding back.

“Why didn’t anyone- Why didn’t you come find me?”

Robin grabs his hand across the table, wrapping it in both of hers, holding it tightly. There’s a beat of silence before she speaks.

“W-we didn’t know! They didn’t tell us anything about any lab. We thought you were dead. Eddie, that first night? They told us you’d died!”

Her voice cracks on the last word, and you see tears start to slowly run down her cheeks.

Eddie chokes, and his eyes lift to the ceiling.

Dustin’s the first to move as he scrapes his chair back and sprints around to Eddie, enveloping his shoulders and neck in a clumsy but aggressively enthusiastic hug as he mumbles into his friend’s shoulder,

“But you’re not dead. You’re not. You’re here, with us, now. You’re back, Eddie, you’re back...”

Lucas stands too, ruffling Eddie’s hair and half-hugging the top of his head with one arm, leaning his cheek against Eddie’s curls, and you lean into Eddie, placing your forehead against the side of his bicep.

Steve turns from where he’s been brewing even more coffee, and moves to place his hand on a patch of shoulder not covered by Dustin or Lucas, patting softly. As he turns back to the stove he comments,

“Yeah, man. D’you really think we wouldn’t’ve come got you? Fuck those guys and all their crappy experiments. No one does that to a member of The Party.”

You simultaneously feel Eddie’s grip on your hand tighten, and the rest of his body relax. Many of you are crying, the sleeves of Eddie’s sweater darkening in patches from the wet plops of Dustin’s tears.

Will and Jane are affected too, and you see their faces soften as they clasp each other's hands under the table.

Eddie’s breath deepens as he absorbs the love and affection of his friends. You guess he’s not used to this much positive attention, and has clearly received even less over the last few weeks.

You all sit in silence for a few long moments, allowing all this new information to sink in and emotions to settle.

Eventually the noise of the stove and the clattering of coffee supplies, together with a strong gust of wind and the increased pattering of leaves against the window, brings you all back to the room.

Eddie seems to have processed everything faster than the rest of you, his emotions shifting, and as Steve pours more coffee he becomes agitated, slamming his fists on the table, startling all of you with the ferocity of his movements.

You guess he’s angry not only at the testing he underwent, but that they lied to all of you, and let him feel hopeless, like nobody cared.

The kids move back as he stands and starts pacing, running his hands through his already-frizzy hair and shaking his head.

“FUCK! Those bastards! Not only did they use me as some kind of twisted lab rat, but they didn’t even tell you guys I was alive? And they let me think that none of you cared enough to come find me, visit me, get me out? GODDAMMIT!”

He slams a palm into the doorframe, and you all jump a little.

Turning back to the room, Eddie notices the effect he’s having on everyone, and, rubbing the back of his neck, says,

“I think I’m gonna go take a walk…”

He moves towards the back door, the expanse of the disused field behind the cabin seemingly the ideal place for him to get his head together.

But, spying the large axe leaning against the frame, he has a better idea.

“Hey, uh, do you guys have, like, logs ‘n’ shit that need chopping? I really need to, um, work through some stuff. Besides, it’s probably the least I can do, given how much heat and hot water I’ve already cost you all.”

He gives a sheepish snort and brings his hand to his face again.

It’s you who speaks first.

“Are you sure, Eddie? I mean, it’s been a stressful few days. Are you okay to be doing something so… physical?”

“Yeah, yeah… I’m feeling a little… pent up. Could do with working some of it off, y’know?”

You nod, figuring all of you are going to need different ways to process this whole bizarre and unsettling situation.

Dustin and Mike find some old tan workboots in a closet, presumably left by the previous owner. They don’t fit perfectly, and it looks like something may have nested in one of them at some point, but they’ll do for now. Eddie pulls them on over his loaned sweats and socks, leaving them unlaced.

Robin offers him his leather jacket. She’s obviously had a go at cleaning off as much of the mud as she can, but you can all tell it’s never going to be quite the same. At least it’s dry now, and Eddie takes it gratefully.

He grabs the old axe and the small hatchet that you use to chop kindling, unlocks the back door and steps outside, closing it behind him.

Dustin wants to go out to him, but Robin grabs him and holds him in a tight hug, explaining that he needs some time to process stuff.

The others give him space, some staying at the kitchen table to process their thoughts, others retreating to the living room and diverting their thoughts with the crackling cartoons that break through the terrible TV signal.

You choose to keep an eye on Eddie, staying back a little from the back door so as not to alarm him, but keeping him within your eye line.

You see Eddie pace a little, muttering to himself, then he shakes his head as if to clear it.

He turns to the log pile and hefts the axe a couple of times, getting the feel of it. He lifts a couple of modestly sized logs onto the stump, wielding the axe above his head and splitting them easily. Almost… effortlessly.

He chops a few more, flinging them into a pile with ease, then moves to lift a few larger ones, breezing through them with the same ‘hot knife through butter’ nonchalance.

It’s the most physical activity you’ve ever seen him do, aside from lifting the odd amp or two, which always left him puffed out. But he’s sailing through the woodpile with barely any exertion.

You can see he’s still processing the contents of your morning, as his features screw up occasionally and grumbled words and what are probably profanities spill from his lips.

As he hefts the axe through the tough logs you can see his eyes are getting redder, and his skin appears paler. You can’t see his body, but the tendons on his hands and neck are popping starkly underneath his translucent skin. And, the wind has picked up considerably since he’s been outside, whipping loose leaves and twigs around the cabin just like it did last night.

Eventually, he starts on the biggest, gnarliest logs. The ones you guys would only attempt when you really, really needed the firewood.

You hear grunts, muffled by the back door, as he works the tougher wood.

The axe gets stuck partway through a particularly thick log, and with an animalistic grunt Eddie yanks the blade from it. Easily lifting the log in his arms, he notches his long fingers into the groove and, in a move that startles you, he rips it into two pieces with his bare hands.

By the back door you suppress a gasp, your hand flying across your mouth and your eyes going wide. You’re not sure whether you should go to him, try to comfort him, or leave him to work through this in whatever way he needs to.

You don’t get the chance to decide, as he finally gets to a particularly old and knotty log that none of you have been able to get anywhere close to splitting. As Eddie slams the axe down into it with a ferocity you didn’t think was possible, he gets it far further than any of you have so far, but again, the blade gets stuck.

The wind picks up even more, as Eddie picks up the axe, log attached, and heaves it around his head, sending it spinning across the back field as he lets out a loud, feral and painful-sounding yell.

Breathing deep for a couple of moments, he runs a hand down his face and begins to trudge across the bumpy earth to retrieve it, coping easily with the rough and uneven ground of the ploughed field and his ill-fitting boots. You can see he’s still yelling expletives and occasionally waving his arms and shouting up into the sky.

The distance that he’s managed to throw the axe is substantial enough that he shrinks in your field of vision by the time he reaches it. You can no longer make out his expression, but as he comes to a halt you do see him bend over and place his hands on his knees, watching his back heave as he takes a few more deep, steadying breaths.

He lifts the axe and heaves both it and the attached heavy log easily over his shoulder with one hand. You consider that you’ve never seen him lift anything with such ease, save maybe his leather jacket, flung over his back, dangling it from one finger on a hot day.

As he turns and starts making his way back to the house, you notice that the wind has started to die down and is whipping less of Eddie’s hair around his face, and leaves and twigs begin to fall to the ground.

You hadn’t realised Jane had come to join you at the back door. Despite not directly knowing Eddie before, she says, in her characteristically deadpan voice, “He is… different now. Isn’t he?”

You purse your lips and nod, quick and small, and find it remarkable that this seemingly awkward young woman, who’s endured so much at the hands of so many, has developed such insight and tenderness.

After removing the axe from the gnarly chunk of wood and placing it by the back door, Eddie spends a few minutes arranging the logs he’s split into neat piles beneath the small shelter. The skin around his eyes is less red now, and his general demeanour seems more relaxed, controlled. Perhaps this has helped after all.

He takes a couple of breaths and composes himself before he heads back towards the door, holding the axe in one hand and a stack of logs atop his other arm.

Bashful, and conscious that you’d rather he didn’t know that you’ve been watching him the entire time, you take a few steps backwards and make like you’re just now coming to the door, opening it for him with a broad smile and directing him to the place in the living room where you store the wood for the fire, thanking him for his efforts.

As he places the last of the wood and starts to take off his jacket, you notice that his hands are again torn and bloody, splinters sticking out every which way and an angry-looking blister on one palm.

You assume that he’s reopened his wounds from last night, but the positions and patterns don’t match up. Everything from last night has almost completely healed, and these are all new.

Regardless of the peculiarities, they need attention, so you instruct him,

“Come with me, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You send him to your bedroom as you grab some washcloths, a bowl of warm water and the first aid kit from the bathroom.

You sit him up against your headboard, setting up your supplies on the comforter. Figuring it’s the most practical position for you to be in, you straddle his knees and begin dabbing at his cut and splintered hands with antiseptic. Realising there’s too much debris in the way, and wincing at the sheer size and quantity of them, you grab some tweezers, removing the splinters of various sizes that have embedded into his fingers and palms.

As you swap back to using the wet cloths and begin cleaning the blood from his skin, you’re perhaps less surprised than you should be to find that the new injuries have already stopped bleeding, and some of the smaller ones even appear to be closing up, apparently heading the same way as the cuts on his face and feet from whatever happened last night.

You work quietly for a few moments before your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What was that? Outside, just now? You seem…”

“Different? Yeah, I know��� Don’t ask me how it happened, but I feel different too. Stronger, faster…”

He glances at you through his bangs.

“Less in control…”

His brow is furrowed as he holds your gaze, and you guess he’s waiting for you to back off. You don’t.

“I guess they… changed me.”

You move to touch his chin gently with one hand, wanting to reassure him. You realise that by telling him this you’re going to reveal that you were watching him, but you forge ahead anyway.

“Listen, I’m not gonna pretend that whatever it is that I just saw wasn’t a little… unnerving. But I’ve never felt unsafe around you. Quite the opposite, in fact. And that hasn’t changed. I don’t think it ever will.”

He refuses to meet your gaze, and twists his battered hands together in his lap, seemingly fighting with himself.

“I should go. Leave you guys. You’re not safe with me here.”

A vice grip seizes your chest. All logic leaves you, and the only thing you can think about is never letting him go again.

“Eddie, no!”

“I don’t really know what their plan was, but I’m guessing they were trying to make me into a super soldier, or something. They’re not gonna stop. As soon as they find out what happened at the cemetery, they’re gonna try to find me. And if I could find you, they can find me.”

A ball of anxiety forms in you. You can’t let him go. You just can’t.

“I thought you were dead, we all did. I’ve only just found you again, after I thought I’d lost you forever. Please don’t say you’re going to leave?”

Your voice cracks and you swallow back a sob. You lurch forward and grip both of his hands with all the strength you have left, not caring that you’re getting his blood on you, and might even be hurting him.

If Eddie feels any pain, he doesn't flinch. But the sight of you falling to pieces in front of him, because of him, is apparently something he can’t bear.

“Okay, I won’t. I’ll stay tonight, at least. Then we’ll try to figure something out. Maybe contact Owens, see if he knows anything. Alright?”

He raises his head and looks into your eyes now, as you snuffle a little and manage a small smile. He’s yours for tonight, at least.

No, not exactly yours, you have to remind yourself. He’s safe, with all of you, for tonight, at least.

Something else decides to jostle for prominence in your mind, and you ask him, quietly,

“How did you find us? Really. How did you know where to go?”

Eddie takes a deep breath before shifting slightly, and he returns the grip on your hands.

You think you hear a little trepidation in his voice as he speaks.

“I don’t know if this is going to sound crazy, but… what doesn’t these days, right? It’s like- Even before… everything, it’s like every time I left you I left a part of my soul with you. And… it would stay with you all the time we were apart. And then whenever I was with you I’d find it again. That’s how I found you. It was like I was searching for a piece of myself, and somehow I just knew where to find it.”

He goes quiet, dropping his chin to his chest again.

His words play on a loop in your head. Even before… I left a part of my soul with you… and whenever I was with you I’d find it...

You shift forwards even more, closing the gap between you, and the movement makes you become acutely aware of your proximity. You become conscious of the feel of his firm thighs between yours, how good it feels. How, for the second time in less than twenty four hours, you wish there weren’t these thin pieces of fabric between you.

Something sparks in your chest: Could he feel the same way as you?

Your voice trembles as you practically beg him,

“I don't want you ever to leave, Eddie. I don’t want us to ever be apart, and always be there for each other. I don’t want you to ever be missing a part of your soul again. I want to be with you, always.”

Eddie huffs out a sob of his own, lifting your hands to his and nuzzling his face into your knuckles. He takes one and slowly turns his head until his round nose connects with your curled fingers. And then, ever so slowly, he connects his lips with the soft, sensitive skin on your palm.

Tentatively, he moves a little and purses them against the inside of your wrist, lightly pressing them there, inhaling deeply and his breath shuddering slightly as he inhales your scent.

You notice both of your breathing has quickened. You can feel Eddie’s as it passes over your skin, and you feel your heartbeat in your throat.

Eddie looks over at you. His body may have changed in myriad ways, but his eyes remain the same. They’re still the huge, beautiful, warm pools of cacao that have drawn you in since the moment you met. It’s the tether that makes you realise that no matter how else he might’ve changed, deep down he’s still Eddie. Your Eddie.

You move your other hand, gently taking his wrist, and move his free hand up to your face. You close your eyes as you softly kiss his palm, and then move his hand to cup your cheek.

Gently, almost imperceptibly, Eddie moves his thumb and touches it to the very corner of your mouth. You feel a heat in your belly and you turn your head towards it, skimming it over your lips.

Your eyes flick between his chocolate orbs as Eddie bends his thumb ever so slightly. The pad of it pulls at the plush of your lower lip a tiny amount, but it’s enough to create a gap.

Without thinking you start to open your jaw, and he begins to move forwards. As he pushes into your waiting mouth all you can think about is tasting him, and your tongue starts to move. Just as the tip of it is about to make contact with Eddie’s thumb, there’s a jarring yell.

“Hey, everybody! Grub’s up!”

You pull apart with a start, both inhaling sharply.

It’s Robin, calling from the kitchen. Of course you’re grateful that the mums never allow the kids to arrive empty handed, but a large part of you wishes that you and Eddie could’ve had just a little more time to explore… whatever this is.

You let out nervous chuckles as you smile softly at one another, and hold each other’s gaze for probably little longer than is strictly necessary before you gather up the medical supplies and you both stand.

You can’t help but take Eddie’s hand in yours as you pull him towards the kitchen, encouraging him to follow lest he misses out on the delicacy that is Dustin’s mom’s substantial contribution.

“C’mon, Claudia’s lasagnas are totally legendary. It may sound simple, but combined with Mrs Sinclair’s recipe for garlic bread, I promise you, you’re about to have a near-spiritual culinary experience.”

Still feeling the heat of what just occurred in your room you busy yourself with packing away the first aid kit, and then elect to sit across the table from Eddie. You convince yourself that you’re not avoiding him, simply allowing the kids the chance to get close to him for a little while.

As if reading your mind, Dustin immediately plants himself in the chair next to Eddie, swiftly followed by Mike on his other side. Lucas sits next to Dustin, and Will slides in next to Mike. They chatter excitedly about campaigns and creatures and characters, and to see Eddie flanked by his adoring sheep brings a different kind of warmth to your chest.

The conversation remains light over dinner. Jokes are cracked, teasing occurs, and you’re pleased everyone’s getting a break from the tension and horrors.

The culinary delights are as good as you’d promised, and Eddie hums and moans at the delicious bounty before him. He remains pale, but he’s definitely regained some strength, vigour.

He glances over at you after taking an especially large mouthful of the meaty dish, and after you stop giggling at his uncouth antics he grins at you, tomato sauce staining his lips and the sides of his mouth, confirming,

“You’re right, this is goddamn heavenly!”

At another point he takes a particularly large bite of some soaked bread, and herb-flecked garlic butter oozes all over his thumb. Your eyes are drawn to it as he brings it to his mouth and presses it between his plump lips, and your eyes connect across the table as he sucks it off, twisting the digit and temporarily giving himself the most salacious pout. He spots you looking, and leaves his thumb in his mouth for what you consider is altogether too long before pulling it out with a pop. You gulp audibly and shift in your seat, grateful for the general clamour disguising your arousal.

You haven’t discussed as a group whether or where Eddie’s going to stay, though it seems to be unspoken between all of you that of course he’s going to remain here until you can all figure out what to do next. You decide not to raise the earlier conversation you had about him possibly leaving.

Dustin’s the first to broach the subject, asking,

“So, where’re you sleeping tonight, Eddie? You wanna come bunk with us in the warmest room in the house?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, attempting to extol the virtues of the open fire. His excitement is palpable, and you envy the optimism of youth that can make even the least appealing flat surfaces sound like an enticing bedspace.

You interject on Eddie’s behalf, suggesting,

“Hey guys, I know it would be the coolest sleepover ever, but I think Eddie might’ve earned the luxury of an actual bedroom after what he’s been through recently, don’t you think?”

Dustin looks crestfallen, but recovers quickly, agreeing with an only slightly pouty,

“I suppoooooose…”

Without looking at the others, you turn to Eddie and proffer,

“You’ll stay in my room, right?”

Eddie nods, his curls bouncing, as he agrees, perhaps a little too quickly,

“Of course, yep, that sounds… entirely fine.”

You miss how Robin and Steve glance at each other, Steve raising an eyebrow as Robin smirks at him.

There’s a quick clean up as dishes are done and pans are left to soak. Craving normalcy, you pile into the small living room and manage to make it through about two thirds of another of Keith’s loaned films before blinks get longer, eyes start to close and heads start to loll.

Robin chivvies the teens to get their sleeping bags set up, and there’s the typical grousing and bickering as everyone tries to use the bathroom at the same time. You think at one point three of the boys are trying to use the sink simultaneously, jostling each other and spitting far too enthusiastically in an effort to spray their compatriots. It’s a small nugget of frivolity that makes you consider the possibility that you might just all be okay.

Steve moves the small electric heater from his room back to yours, and you retrieve Eddie’s clothes from the drier. He slips into his Hellfire shirt and clean boxers as you change into your Garfield nightshirt, and then starts to grab blankets from beside you.

Confused, you question,

“What’re you doing?”

“Oh, uh… I just thought I’d sleep on the floor, y’know, give you the bed.”

You’re aghast.

“Don't be silly, Eddie. There’s plenty of room. Sleep up here, please? I mean, it’s not like we never have before. All those nights in the trailer when I got too baked to make it home, or you got too baked to drive me, or both…”

You both chuckle at the fond memory. You wonder whether you’ll ever let on that sometimes you were faking it, or deliberately took too many drags from the last blunt, just so you could spend the night with him, in his bed.

He throws the blankets back over and, smiling, climbs in beside you.

Turning off your bedside light, the room becomes bathed in the low, pale blue glow of the moonlight.

You both lie on your backs, staring at the ceiling. Somehow it’s easier to talk like this.

Thumbing the skull ring on your hand, you want to talk about the… other thing that happened, but have no idea how to bring it up.

As you’re ruminating, Eddie beats you to it.

“I hope it wasn’t weird? Earlier, I mean. It was…”

Your thighs clench a minuscule amount as you recall the feel of him between them, and the lightest brush of your lips on various parts of each other, and you finish his sentence for him.

“Nice. It was nice.”

Shit. It was so much more than nice, you think to yourself.

“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you, or anything. I guess I’m just a little touch-starved, y’know…?”

“I don’t. Honestly, I’m just glad to be close to you again. And if I made you feel uncomfortable then I’m really sorry…”

You can tell by the minor shifts in the covers and from his general demeanour that Eddie’s fidgeting with his hands.

“You didn’t, I promise.”

There’s another pause, and Eddie huffs out another small breath before he continues,

“Listen, I know the past twenty-four hours has basically been weirdness personified, and I don’t want to make it even weirder, but…can I… maybe… hold you?”

“I think weird is probably the understatement of the century, but it’s okay. And… I think I’d like that.”

You shift closer to one another under the covers, and you turn onto your side as Eddie moves himself to spoon behind you in an echo of your position last night.

He tentatively drapes his arm over you. He feels warmer than when you last did this, and more relaxed, and you press slightly backwards towards him as much as you dare, letting out a heavy, relaxed sigh.

You take Eddie’s hand in yours, threading your fingers with his, running yours over and between his digits and turning his forelimb this way and that. He hums into your hair and lets you move his arm however you like.

But you stop when you glance down in the dim light and spot a small tattoo on the inside of his wrist that you’ve not seen before. It’s definitely new. You know this because you’ve spent hours tracing over every inch of his inked skin, fantasising about following the images with more than just your eyes, imagining using your fingers, your hands, your lips, your tongue…

But this one’s not like any of his others. This one is small and simple, and looks like the outlines of two soft-cornered rectangles with a blocky W between them. It takes you a moment to process what you’re looking at, realising it looks a lot like one you’ve seen before. She’s had it covered with a delicate floral design (having connections in government really can get you anything, including underage ink), but you remember what it looked like.

Jane’s was a rectangle stacked on top of two horizontal lines, but when you looked at it from a different angle it became numbers: 011.

Looking at Eddie’s, you move the position of his arm. It turns the image a little, suddenly giving it more meaning, as you see it depicts a different number: 030.

Quietly, you croak,

“Eddie, what’s thi-?”

You don’t have a chance to process what any of it could mean as Eddie suddenly tenses, his head lifted from the pillows and his face flicking towards the window and back to you.

His brow furrows as he murmurs,

“Do you hear that?”

You strain your ears and hear nothing at first. But then, gradually, and from far away, you hear the disturbingly familiar sounds of flapping, shuffling and screeching.

Goosebumps appear on your arms and the back of your neck as you abruptly recall the only things you know of that make sounds like these:

Creatures from the Upside Down…

Prev: Prologue Part One

Series masterlist

My masterlist

Thanks so much for reading!

I really hope you enjoyed this part. The next one will probably be the last, and the taglist is open (as is my general one), just say the word, friend 🙂

Comments and reblogs mean the world to me - please let me know what you think!

A/N 2: Did anyone spot the LOTR, Captain America and/or Make Up references? 🧝‍♂️🪓👍 (Also, completely by accident, AQPDO too 😜, and ETA: this and THIS 🫠)

Taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @ali-r3n @eddiemunsonshandcuffs @jasminelafleur @corrodedcoffincumslut @kthomps914 @iletmytittiestitty-russ @findmeincorneliastreet @tlclick73 @sapphire4082 @razzeith @cupid-club @storiesbyrhi @eris-rose-86 @micheledawn1975 @bl0ssomanddie @veemoon @sunshinepeachx @writinginthetwilight @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @idkitsem @em0220 @kookygranger @fanfics-i-find-here @the-unforgivenn @b3lladoonna @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @amandahobblepot @daisy-munson @sheneedsrocknroll92 @maedesculpaeusoubi @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @kellsck @eddiemunsonshandcuffs @babydollface1165

(I’m getting a bit tangled up with my taglists so I hope nobody’s mortally offended if I either have or haven’t included them!)

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Impossible Things

Prompt Day 2: Fireplace | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Temporary Canon Character Death | Tags: Post S4, Resurrection, Fix-It, Platonic Stobin, Pre-Steddie, The Party

Steve lights his fourth fire in three days. Stokes it, trying to get it really going, hotter, quicker.

"It's not even cold, dingus," Robin complains, and she's not wrong. If he's gonna have a fire burning all the goddamn time, he might have to run the air conditioning, year-round.

But he feels crazy. He keeps seeing things in the fireplace. Things that don't feel real, or right. Or maybe they feel too real and right. Maybe this house is haunted. A fire ghost? Is that a thing?

Robin sits next to him, and he watches the flames dance, making familiar shapes, faces. Impossible things. 

"Dingus, are you listening to me?"

He wasn't. Not at all.

"No, sorry."

"What are you gawking at?" Robin asks.

"A ghost," Steve says.

"A what?" Robin laughs, turning her head to see if he's kidding. He's not. Not really.

"A fire ghost?"

She cackles, but he's serious.

"Do you not see that?" Steve asks, because maybe he is crazy. But the flames in this fireplace take shapes, he's sure of it.

Robin watches the fire as intently as Steve is, then she says, "Holy shit."

The air is sucked out of his lungs.

"You see him?" Steve asks. 

"Eddie? Hell yes, I see him," she says, getting down on her hands and knees in front of the fire.

Steve follows. 

The fire dances, crackles and pops, flames flaring up. Embers floating. As if it knows they know, now.

"Eddie!" she shouts, "Are you haunting Steve's fireplace?"

There's no answer, but that doesn't stop Robin. Her wheels are already turning.

"How'd he get in there? How do we get him out of there? Is he a phoenix? Is he gonna rise from the ashes? We should call Dustin!" Robin rattles off, quicker and quicker by the thought.

Dustin is exasperated when he arrives, having flown halfway across the country. 

Steve's tired, eyes heavy. He's kept the fire burning, scared that Eddie might disappear if he lets it go out. That hasn't happened before, but he feels like now that they've acknowledged what they're seeing, that maybe they've interrupted, changed, the magic. 

Or whatever this is.

Maybe it's not Eddie at all.

"Are you sure you two aren't suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning? You did have the chimney inspected and cleaned before using this old thing, right?"

Well, no. Steve didn't. He didn't even know that was a thing. Whoops.

But he has CO detectors, and they aren't screaming at them, so it's probably not that.

"Just look, Henderson," Steve says, and Dustin squats between them. He doesn't react, and Steve is concerned that maybe they have somehow built up this shared delusion. 

"Oh shit," Henderson finally says, and Steve sags. 

"See? I told you, you little asshole. Eddie's in the fireplace."

"Well, excuse me for thinking that sounded crazy, Steve," Dustin snaps back, immediately rushing towards the phone. Calls are made. The weirdness has resurfaced in a totally unexpected way, and it's time to get the band back together.

It'd be helpful if Eddie could talk to them, but that doesn't seem to be an option. If he could run his mouth, Steve's certain he would be, incessantly.

They try witchcraft. Not that any of them especially believe in witchcraft, but they bought books, and are trying to spell him out of the fire.

It doesn't work. Nothing happens, nothing changes.

El lost her powers in the final showdown, and hasn't ever regained them. She stares at Eddie, face so close Steve's worried she's gonna lose her eyebrows, but she can't communicate or change things for him.

"Munson, Munson, Munson!" Mike yells, and they all look at him. He shrugs, "What? I thought he might be like Beetlejuice."

They all sigh. 

"We could burn something. Of his. See if that frees him," Joyce says, and they all turn to look at her. 

"What do we even have of his? It's been a decade?" Dustin questions. 

And they all look at each other. Steve has something, but there's no fucking way he's throwing it into a fire.

"Steve, you still have the battle vest, right?" Robin questions, and Steve wants to kill her. 

"We're not burning that on a hunch. What if that's what's tying him here, huh? Then what?"

Dustin runs up the stairs, and Steve gives chase. 

"We can try one pin, right?" Dustin argues, unbuttoning the Accept button from the vest, and Steve can concede to that. He's sure it's not gonna change shit.

"Fine," he snaps, but yanks the vest back into his own hands. 

Dustin stands in front of the fireplace, "Here goes nothing."

He tosses it in, and the fire flares so hot, Steve shields his face, pretty scared they may burn his house down.

But it settles, and Eddie is clearer. Like his image has been sharpened.

"That worked, right?" Dustin says. 

And they all kind of look at each other, like, yeah. It worked. 

Steve hands over the W.A.S.P pin.

After, Eddie looks even more solid.

"He's getting corporeal!" Dustin says.

"He's being punished?" Steve asks, brows furrowed.

"Jesus Christ," Dustin says, and well, excuse him. "Just do it, Steve."

Steve wants to bring the vest to his face, wants to hug it close, say goodbye, but feels too fucking weird about it with all these eyes on him. 

Instead, he squats down.

"This better fucking work, Eddie," he whispers, laying the denim on the logs, and the immediate flaming knocks him back onto his ass, but he hasn't been burned. 

It's a raging inferno in there, somehow contained, and they wait, frozen. 

Finally, Eddie steps out of the fireplace, looking exactly as he did the day he died, ten years ago.

Still sassy.

"Jesus H. Christ, do you know how many things I've haunted of yours, Harrington?"

"Uh…"

"The toaster. The mirror. That stray cat."

"I told you that cat was special!" Steve screams at Robin, "And you said no!"

The bickering, the blame, starts. But Eddie's here.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🔥

Notes: If there's one truth in Stranger Things, it's that Joyce Byers is never wrong and they should always listen to her.

[hunnybuttons]

Before the Upside Down, Steve Harrington could sleep like the dead. Once he laid his head on the checkered pattern pillow, Steve would be oblivious to anything happening in the world around him as he found solace in his dreams.

Steve would never admit it to Tommy H or Carol, but his dreams were his only safe place. In Steve's dream world, he wasn't the son to absent parents or the perfect King Steve; he was whatever version of himself that would've never been allowed around the Harringtons or the population at Hawkins High. Steve was comforted by the anonymity that was created as he slept till an alarm or the sunlight peeking through his curtains woke him.

Before the Upside Down, Eddie Munson would laugh as he told the rest of Corroded Coffin about how much he slept during the weekend. But, groan when Uncle Wayne stomped into his bedroom at 4pm wondering, "Boy, since when did you become a vampire?"

Basically, Eddie found it hilarious that he could sleep 16 hours a day and still go to bed at 9pm every night. One thing about Eddie Munson before that fated afternoon with Chrissy Cunningham, he could sleep like a corpse and never worry about sleep avoiding his clutches. Because as Uncle Wayne or a member of Corroded Coffin could tell anyone, Eddie loved to sleep and would theoretically kill anyone who tried to disrupt his slumber.

After the Upside Down, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington found solace in one another as they struggled to remember who they were before circumstances led them to emotional, mental, and physical scars. Steve could no longer find comfort in his dream world as it replayed his most traumatizing moments from the last couple of years. Eddie could no longer sleep like the dead since he actually knew what it felt like to lay limp and face death.

Eddie and Steve stare into one another's eyes as they share a pillow in Steve's massive bed. Eddie whispers to Steve about how envious he is of his past self as he dramatically recounts Uncle Wayne's stomps or Corroded Coffin's scoffs. As Eddie spoke, Steve wonders if Eddie could be trusted with his deepest secrets about who he wishes he could be.

As Eddie's giggles fade into the dark of the night, Steve clears in throat and begins to tell Eddie about the lack of safety he has felt since turning 12 and being handed bundles of money that were to be budgeted until his parents came back home from whatever business trip Jonathan Harrington needed to attend. Steve mumbles about Tommy and Carol, or anyone else, never being able to fill the hollow space that was this mausoleum of a house until Dustin Henderson hijacked Nancy's roses and forced Steve to go on a wild demo dog chase. With a smile that actually reaches Steve's eyes, he tells Eddie how he finally knew what a mutual love felt like when Robin refused to get a new job without Steve.

Eddie desperately wants to read between the lines and believe himself to be someone who brought something into Steve's life. The begging words he sends up to whatever universal force doesn't want to continue fucking his life are interrupted as Steve looks Eddie in the eyes and admits, "Eddie Munson, you brought light and noise into my life."

Steve Harrington never understood how significant it was to feel the sun on his skin until Eddie woke up from his coma after his encounter with the bats, and begged for the blinds in his hospital room to be opened. Eddie's smile changed as he adjusted to the new scars on his skin, but Steve has never seen something so beautiful in his life.

Steve flinched in noisy environments when he remembers how angry his father would get if Steve existed too loudly. But, since Eddie took Steve to the middle of nowhere and convinced him to just scream, Steve has found himself seeking out music that taught him to release his emotions instead of pushing them further and further down.

Steve Harrington finally found safety in the real world when Eddie Munson whispers, "Stevie, please let me kiss you."

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Drawing prompt idea: I don't know if anyone's drawn it yet, but I just got the sudden image in my head of Eddie and Steve showing Dustin places he hasn't seen before in Steve's house like that trend where people show their babies and dogs places they haven't seen. I'm just picturing Dustin scowling and calling them assholes. . .until he finds something interesting. Lol.

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie camping.

They do it for the kids. They begged for months and Steve knew the minute they asked the first time he would be going. What he didn’t know was that Eddie would be there.

It’s awkward at first. Sure they saved the world together but after that Eddie was holed up in a hospital and then in a hotel with Wayne until the government money came through. All Steve knew beyond how Eddie acts in a crisis (heroic and stupid) came second hand through the kids.

But Eddie isn’t a bad guy, he’s funny, sweet and ridiculously considerate, going so far as to offer sleeping in his van when they found out they would have to share a tent.

Steve was starting to like Eddie like actually really like him. He looked forward to staying back and talking with him while the kids trudged ahead with sticks poking at shit. Steve’s newfound fascination with Eddie is exactly what gets him in trouble though.

The boys are ahead like usual, towels and backpacks on their shoulders sticks in hand. The plan was to head to the lakefront but instead Steve is so distracted staring at Eddie’s big beautiful brown eyes that he misses a root growing through the path and trips on it rolling his ankle.

The rest of the weekend trip is spent with the kids back at home grumbling. Mike is especially vocal about how Steve ruins everything but Eddie is quick to point out they would have had to leave earlier if Will hadn’t pointed out the thick branch Mike almost whacked his head into. He also stays with Steve.

“Its okay, you must be sick of hospitals by now.” Steve tries to insist.

“Maybe but I also know how scary they are too.” Eddie says turning to look at Steve. “And I also know you stayed with me when I was in one so I wouldn’t be alone while we waited for the others. So consider it repayment.”

“Oh…” Steve blushes, “Who told you that?” He says to his lap.

“A little birdie told me.” Eddie winks. “Doesn’t matter I would have stayed anyway. Its like I said before you’re actually…really cool.”

“Not anymore according to the kids.” Steve sighs.

“Hey. Mike is a bit of an ungrateful shit but all the others worship you Steve. Including Mike even if he tries to act like he doesn’t.”

“Thanks Eddie.”

“Anytime Stevie.”

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

imagine eddie’s out of work because reefer rick got put away for good, and rick kept such a tight lid on his own supplier that eddie has no clue where to buy from now. he’s applied to a couple of jobs, but nobody’s gotten back to him yet. thankfully, his saving grace comes in the form of a flyer for someone seeking a babysitter.

enter single dad steve, who just needs someone to watch his five kids (and occasionally the miracle baby hopper-byers twins from nextdoor, because they’re best friends with his kids and refuse to be separated from them for longer than twelve hours) for a couple hours while he takes a much-needed nap every few days. he can’t keep asking their auntie robin and auntie vickie, after all. even if they’re more than willing to watch them, steve feels like it’s too big of an ask without payment, which they refuse to accept. and if the babysitter that responds to his flyer just so happens to be a very attractive guy whose guitar-playing and d&d skills are enough to captivate said children’s collective attention for those hours, well…that’s just an added bonus.

[captainmvf]

CB and Dustin requests for @honey-dont and @starlightdust-dreamergalaxy - Thank you so much for your requests!!