#they call me steve

[strawnger]

steddie au where eddie thinks they're just hooking up because steve never treats him like all his previous girlfriends, but steve thinks they're dating and the relationship is only different because it's Gay. he's just trying to follow eddie's lead without making a fool of himself (he keeps buying gifts and flowers then shoving them into the back of his closet because he doesn't want eddie to think he's "treating him like a girl")

[wild0moon]

i bring you: my casual clothes tankman design (and steve too) i am so normal about found family tankdad

happy pride month lol

[donttellunclesam]

stevie & eddie s4

(close ups under the cut)

[inklessletter]

platonic friends night out in the club 😝😝😝

bi lights going around💗💜💙

[morganbritton132]

Steve offers to help hang up some pictures on the wall for Max and her mom at their new place. Susan takes him up on it and tells him that she has to work but she’ll leave the door unlocked so he can wait inside until Max gets home from her ‘dragon club’ ti help him.

So Steve goes over, knocks on the door, goes in when he gets no answer and thinks, ‘wow, they’ve hung up a lot of stuff in here already.’

He sits down on the couch to wait for Max, leans back to rest his eyes just for a second.

Eddie arrives home at the end of ‘dragon club,’ walks inside, walks outside and checks the house number, and then walks back inside where Steve Harrington is sleeping on his couch. He asks the unconscious jock, the cups on the wall, and the universe at large, “What the fuck is this?”

Meanwhile, Max isn’t even a member of Hellfire and was watching out the window when Steve pulled up and walked into the wrong trailer. She just rolled her eyes and hung up her own pictures.

[novacorpsrecruit]

“Must’ve Been Some Dragon”

M | wc 815 | CW: implied child abuse

@steddieangstyaugust Day 15: Childhood

“Must’ve been some dragon.”

Steve looked up across Eddie’s hospital bed at Wayne Munson. They have been sitting by Eddie’s bedside for almost 10 hours, and this was the first words Wayne has spoken.

“I’m sorry?” Steve asked, readjusting in his seat to look more towards Wayne. Wayne gestured at Eddie’s bandaged body. He was worse for wear. Lost a lot of blood. Steve spent way too long doing chest compressions before they could get his heart beating again. Steve still had Eddie’s dried blood on his fingernails.

“Must have been some dragon,” Wayne repeated. “He — uh — used to come over, scraped or bruised. Said it was a dragon. A dragon gave him those bruises or a dragon scraped his knee.” Wayne’s hand hovered over Eddie’s bandaged arm, wanting to touch him, but not wanting to cause any further harm. “Ego,” He settled his touch on Eddie’s bare hand. “Some dragon.”

Steve let out a soft laugh. “Yeah. It was some dragon.” Steve couldn’t help but turn his attention back to Eddie, peacefully still. “He was brave against the it. The dragon.”

“He always is,” Wayne said, his thumb running across the back of Eddie’s hand.

🐉 ⚔️

Steve was jolted awake. The body next to him — his boyfriend — jerked up, jostling Steve off his chest. Eddie inhaled sharply, burying his face into his hands, body shaking.

“Hey, hey,” Steve whispered, sitting up, his hand rubbing gentle circles on Eddie’s back. “Hey, you’re safe. We’re okay.”

Eddie jostled his head, nodding of some sorts. His head still buried in his hands, his breath still uneven. Steve leaned into Eddie, his head against his shoulder.

“We’re okay,” Steve said.

“W-we’re okay,” Eddie repeated, his breath still shaky.

Steve rubbed circles into Eddie’s back, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s bare shoulder. “Was it the bats?”

Eddie shook his head. “It was — uh — a dragon,” Eddie admitted. He leaned against Steve’s touch, closing his eyes and let out a soft sigh. “I haven’t — I haven’t had that nightmare since I was a kid.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Eddie shook his head, turning to bury himself in Steve’s arms. Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie, holding him securely. “It’s fine. It’s in the past. Don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

“The dragon?” Steve asked softly.

Eddie nodded.

“I’ll protect you,” Steve promised. “No matter the size of dragon, I’ll protect you from it.”

Eddie leaned back to look at Steve. “Any dragon?”

“Any dragon that dares to step in the Munson Kingdom,” Steve said. “I’ll fight for your honor.”

Eddie let out a wet laugh, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before leaning back into him. “My knight in shining armor.”

Steve pressed a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head, holding him tightly as they both fell back asleep, free from dragons.

🐉 ⚔️

Steve was in the middle of getting ready for his shift at Family Video when there was pounding at the door. Steve sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“Eddie, I swear to god,” he half shouted. Not sure if Eddie could even hear him. He made his way through the Munson’s new trailer — a 2-bedroom that Steve practically moved into, sharing Eddie’s space. “If you forgot your key again —“

Steve opened the front door. A man, slightly taller than him. Bigger too, but not bigger than Hopper. Dark hair, familiar brown eyes, and a soft grin that felt … wrong.

Steve instantly knew who this was.

“I’m looking for Wayne or Eddie,” Ricky Munson said, Steve assumed as politely as he could. Which wasn’t much.

“Wrong house,” Steve said, pushing the door shut. Ricky’s hand shot out, stopping the door. He pushed it open, keeping his arm stretched out.

“I think I’m at the right house,” Ricky said slowly. “You seen my son or brother lately?”

Steve’s eyes dropped to the arm in front of him, holding the door open. To the ink on Ricky’s forearm. A dragon tattoo on his right arm.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

Little Eddie coming to Wayne, bruised and battered by a dragon.

Eddie having nightmares about a dragon hurting him.

And Steve, who promised Eddie that he would protect him from dragons. Of any kind.

Steve reached beside the door, feeling the handle of his nail bat fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.

“Heard a lot about you, Ricky,” Steve said, stepping back, pulling the nail bat behind him. “They’ll be home shortly if you want to come in.”

Ricky gave a sly grin, one that looked innocent at face value but felt slimy. Ricky took the first step into the Munson’s trailer. Steve tightened his grip on his nail bat.

Any dragon, he told Eddie.

Any dragon that dares to step into the Munson kingdom.

Especially the dragon that haunted his childhood.

[florallylly]

concept: eddie has heard many a rumor about king steve, but he's actually never really bothered to seek him out. and while he was doing his lunchtime monologues, steve was usually hanging out with tommy and carol in the parking lot. so despite hawkins high being a small school, he's never connected the rumor to the boy.

he HAS however seen steve, he just doesn't know it. and it's basically love at first sight, but eddie is never able to catch up to him and learn his name. so whenever he talks to his friends, he just calls him the guy with the Fat Ass.

and his friends always brush over steve harrington whenever eddie tries to point out the "love of his life." so it becomes a running joke that eddie is in love with some sort of ghost with a Fat Ass.

then one day, steve peeks into the drama room, looking for dustin. and all eddie can do is point and say "you... you fat ... fat ass." and steve is just like "rude."

[blushweddinggowns]

Idea expanded, Rockstar Eddie falling head over heels for Bartender Steve working in a high class club type of joint. He sees him working one night and thinks God damn, he's hot. I'm taking him home tonight.

Except bartender Steve has developed a significant distaste for celebrities and rich people in general because of getting cut off from his homophobic parents for coming out and the general bad way many have treated him at work whilst sloshed. But lucky for Eddie, Steve doesn't recognize him. And even though he started off in a trailer park, the fame has gone to his head a little and he asks Steve out with the full intention of getting into his pants and never seeing him again.

But oh no, would you look at that Steve isn't easy. And what Eddie thought would be a booty call ends up being a ten hour date around the city where he has more fun than he even thought was possible. Just from talking with Steve about anything and everything, flitting to parks and museums. And Eddie doesn't even realize until he's back at his hotel that they didn't even kiss.

And they go out more and more, and Eddie likes him more and more and he finds out where the rich people hate comes from. And it scares him. So he keeps lying. Like an idiot. And he tells Steve a fake last name, he tells him a fake job (which is only half fake because he did used to be a tattoo artist) and he rents an air bnb that he pretends is his own place. And the lies keep getting more elaborate to cover up more lies. And he keeps refusing to meet Steve's friends out of fear that they'll recognize him. And he really just drove himself into a corner here because he is absolutely in love with Steve at this point but how the fuck can you have a normal relationship when you are pretending to be someone else?

Turns out you can't, and Steve finds out the truth despite his efforts. But the twist is, he thinks it's fucking hilarious. After a normal period of What the fuck reaction time he gets over it. But never let's Eddie live it down.

------------------------------

6/27 Edit: Welp, now there's a fic.

Two fics actually. The other is by KikiZ on ao3 which is great if you're not looking for an explicit fic! Because mine will be. It's also a bit more introspective than what I got going on, and also thus far, hella romantic.

[stevenose]

contains: steve x reader; no pronouns used for reader; reader with a vagina; very high and very needy steve; high reader; blowjob

steve’s eyes are crossed, hooded, pupils blown out. he lounges back on the couch, locked into it. his legs spread wide, one hand gently resting on the top of your head. he has no energy to actually grip it.

it’s like he’s in a trance. a real one. a trance that you and a beautiful woman named mary jane have put him in. he’s so high, higher than he’s been in a while, but he’s content. so happy and god, does he love you.

you’re so pretty kneeling before him. bobbing your head real slow on his cock and gently cupping his balls, rolling them in your palm. your throat makes the most disgusting noises and it drives him wild. you’re being so messy, high as hell too, and all he can think about is how hot your mouth is, how tight your throat feels, how wet his cock his, from the tip to the couch under him. when your soft eyes look up through your lashes, he moans, all love-struck.

he wants to say so much. that he loves you, that you’re so pretty, that you feel so good, that you’re his best friend. and he sort of misses you down there - wishes you were in his lap, weighing him down, keeping him on earth. but he can’t really talk. just babbles, groans and moans, throwing his head back. those pretty moles on display. a few hickeys on display, too. he’ll worry about covering them up in the morning.

he’s so close and he keeps whining and pushing your forehead back when he gets like that, because he wants to prolong this. that tight feeling in his stomach, the sensitivity of his cock. he doesn’t want to cum and he wants to cum so badly at the same time. when he stops you, you always give him a minute, while he gasps for air and mumbles some more. til his hand is gently pushing you back in, groaning loudly when he’s back in your mouth.

“oh…. shh…. oh… fu-shhhhh….”

you giggle. he loves it. he’s a little jester for you. loves being it. wants to make you laugh all the time.

“ah!”

you pull off and use your hand on him instead. your voice is thick when you speak. “steve, you’re so goddamn hot.”

he nods. he knows it. sue him.

“want to taste your cum, baby.”

he whimpers.

“let me get you off, please? wanna see your face when you do. so pretty, such a pretty baby.”

steve keens, hips lifting off the couch. all you have to do is talk and he’ll cum. but you take pity, enveloping his shaft with your mouth again, playing with his balls and — holy shit — steve doesn’t know how to think. he makes noises that sort of sound like words. bites his lip so hard it starts bleeding. fingers squeezing the couch and your hair as hard as they can, though it isn’t much. he’s heaving, mouth open, making such beautiful noises, and then he’s spilling down your throat so hard his body shakes.

you’re smiling when you pull away. steve’s still reeling. panting, eyes literally crossed, so hooded it looks like they’re closed. you hop onto his lap, his cock pushing against your shorts, and he’s ready for more. you could take his soul and he’d be so happy about it.

“you okay?” you whisper, pushing his hair off of his sweaty forehead.

his hands creep towards your shorts, tugging at them. “ride… ride me.”

“think you’ve had enough, yeah?”

he shakes his head. grinds up into you and groans. “fuck me,” he moans. “h-hard.”

you kiss the tip of his nose. “i love you.”

“i love you. i love you i love you i love you i love you:”

you giggle. “say it again.”

“i love you.”

you push the crotch of your shorts to the side, sliding your soaked cunt against his soaked cock. “good boy.”

when you sink down, his brain melts.

[stevebabey]

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

[artiststarme]

Steve and Eddie have a fight and give each other the silent treatment for eight days. Within the week, Eddie is arrested on a multitude of bullshit charges and Uncle Wayne has to pick him up from the sheriff’s department every other day, each time progressively more confused and exasperated. Who the fuck could get arrested for disturbing the peace four times in the same week and why was it apparently Eddie?

Eddie has no idea what he did to warrant all the arrests and assumes that Officer Callahan is on some sort of weird power-trip for that entire week. He doesn’t notice that it stops as soon as he makes up with Steve.

It’s only when he sees Officer Callahan, Officer Asshole as he lovingly refers to him, at Steve’s Christmas dinner that he discovers that they’re brothers. In hindsight, it makes all of Callahan’s hatred make a lot more sense.

Even after he finds out though, Phil still arrests him for various charges whenever he hears that Eddie pissed off Steve. Disturbing the peace, gross negligence, making Phil’s life harder; all reasons that Eddie has been arrested for but never charged with. And yet, the Munson idiot that Phil’s brother is in love with hasn’t yet learned his lesson. Luckily for him, Phil will keep it up until he does.

[ohrackham]

what was the point of lila thinking home was a feeling she didn't deserve and could never earn until she found diego. what was the point of them finding deep, meaningful love in each other. what was the point of lila opening her heart and confessing that all she really wanted was a family with him.

what was the point of developing diego and lila over two seasons, creating such a beautiful, chaotic bond, just to destroy it for no reason.

[unspecifiedfigure]

like a lazy ocean hugs the shore, hold me close🌅

[hotluncheddie]

For the @steddie-spooktober day 16 prompt : ‘Would you please stop trying to scare them?’

rated: G | cw: none | tags: kids Eddie and Steve, Wayne Munson

🐉 🐉🐉🐉

‘Eddie, kid, calm down.’ Wayne says calmly with his hands on Eddie’s shoulders.

He has to try something, that’s the fourth kid Eddie sent running screaming. Each time was after he showed off his dragon roar, mouth wide open through the face hole of his cardboard headpiece.

‘Would you please stop trying to scare them? Or, just, not so hard yeah?’ Wayne takes Eddie’s hand. The boy skipping unawares next to him down the street.

Wayne chuckles to himself, his nephew might be a handful but the kid is just too damn cute to not get away with it.

‘Oh! I’ve seen you!’ Eddie shouts, pulling away from Wayne and sprinting up to a boy sitting alone on the curb. He’s dressed like a mummy, sort of, wrapped up in toilet paper and with what looks like lipstick dotted around his face.

‘In the woods! We played castle remember?’ Eddie says to the boy loudly.

The kid looks startled, eyes flicking from Wayne to Eddie and back again.

‘Stevie? This is m’uncle Wayne.’ Eddie says sitting down beside the boy and finally lowering his voice.

The boy looks up at Wayne one last time before turning fully to Eddie. Lip trembling and eyes going all big. ‘I, I dunno where Sarah went Eddie! M I, M’scared!’ He wails, scooting forward as Eddie’s little arms come around him.

‘Who’s Sarah son?’ Wayne asks, crouching by the two boys and pulling out a hanky.

‘M’babysitter, but she just went away!’ Steve cries, still distressed and Wayne hushes him as he wiped at his face. Eddie’s now holding hands with him tightly, a look on his face like you couldn’t get him to let go for anything.

‘Ok kid.’

‘Stevie.’ Eddie corrects.

‘Ok, Stevie, do you know the way to your house from here?’ Wayne asks.

Stevie nods, wiping at his runny nose with his sleeve.

‘So you come with Ed and me now, yeah? We’ll get you back home and you can wait for Sarah there, okay?’

‘Can we stop at houses on the way?’ Eddie asks, sitting up all exited. The reminder of candy has both boys smiling at each other.

‘Don’t see why not. But we’re heading towards Stevie’s house okay? Don’t want anyone worrying.’ Wayne mediates. He’ll be giving Sarah an earful to be more careful that’s for sure. But he can’t help be a little relieved that Eddie managed to make one friend tonight.

Wayne manages to wrangle the two boys up and in the right direction, falling a step behind. Eddie still hasn’t let go of little Stevie’s hand.

‘I’m a dragon. I can roar just like one wanna see?’ Eddie asks.

Stevie nods, stopping to turn his full attention to Eddie.

Eddie roars, free hand up like a claw and voice as loud as he can make it.

Stevie just stands there, once it’s over he covers his mouth and giggles.

Eddie giggles back.

Wayne’s heart about damn near bursts.

🐉🐉🐉🐉

Tag list : @scoops-aboy86 @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @marvel-ous-m @thecatkingsthrone

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

The drive's short one. 

Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.

What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?

(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)  

"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.  

"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.

"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"

"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home." 

"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board." 

Of course they were.

"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon. 

"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe." 

"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.

Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors. 

"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.

"What?" 

"We..." She falters in front of her parents. 

"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.

"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.  

"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control. 

If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it. 

"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze. 

"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it." 

He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?" 

Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold." 

"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"

"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them. 

Its worth it to see her shoulders relax. 

"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…" 

Steve pauses. 

Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."  

"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.

Hook, line, sinker.

Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to." 

"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen. 

Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.

The same one where Nancy very much isn't. 

That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.

xXx

Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy. 

She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--

But she also can't tell him she loves him.

So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.

 Play’s more basketball.

It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.

That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…

He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.

 Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy. 

He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.

That he should let her. 

Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to. 

She wants to be let go.

So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.

(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.

Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.

It's--something.

But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.

It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )

xXx

"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box. 

"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise. 

One, giant, never ending bruise. 

"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth. 

If you turn it sideways and squint anyway. 

"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face. 

The same one he's already getting looks for. 

"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."

The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head. 

"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?" 

Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.

The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit. 

(He had not gone to a hospital. 

None of them had.)  

"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off  as just….goofy.

Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.

 He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with. 

Just older, and with slightly better hair. 

"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously. 

He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?" 

"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves. 

The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him." 

"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.

(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.) 

It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle." 

"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"

"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend." 

See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game. 

They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer. 

(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.) 

"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner. 

"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low. 

Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose." 

Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.)  to say:

 "Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked." 

Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts." 

Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.

The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors. 

"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open. 

"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard. 

"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is. 

It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird. 

The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson. 

xXx

College rejection letters come in, one after the another.

Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.

Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.

Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly? 

It's not that bad. 

Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.  

He figures he has time to win her over. 

All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.

Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve. 

It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits. 

‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’ 

Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.

Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting. 

(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons. 

When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy. 

Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship. 

That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.

That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.

Better.

Not in a way Steve wants to put into words. 

Not in a way he wants to confront at all.) 

His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other. 

Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video. 

Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst. 

Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.

The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.

Chrissy Cunningham, was not. 

"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf. 

She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way. 

“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.” 

"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.

She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly." 

"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.

She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it. 

"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies." 

Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright. 

This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly. 

Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room. 

"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back. 

The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.

"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark." 

Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first  time in a long time, feels like things will be okay. 

He’ll be okay.

He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.

A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name. 

He likes it.

"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors. 

"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?" 

Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left. 

Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid. 

If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined. 

(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.) 

"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!" 

"I'm busy." He says flatly. 

"Ste~eeeve!" 

"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth. 

Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter. 

If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here. 

"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.” 

"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!" 

‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth. 

"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.” 

“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!” 

“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer. 

“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"

“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom. 

“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.

“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car. 

He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.

The one he swears he still has.

Supposedly. 

("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is. 

"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.

Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had. 

In a way no one ever had. 

Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"

"Ow, God Dustin--" 

"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!" 

"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him. 

Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend. 

He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it. 

It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)