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redlegumes · 6 months

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Steddiemas Day One

December 1st - Deck the Halls

Buying and decorating a tree, decorating the house, hanging lights, mistletoes, holiday display wars, etc.

@steddiemas

Going to do my best to write/draw some fun things for these but this first prompt matched really well with a recent fic of mine If it's Just till St. Patrick's Day

(I understand since it's not *new* it may not get reblogged)

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

⍋↟⍋⋆꙳•̩❅‧͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⍋↟⍋ The end of November crept up sooner than Eddie'd expected. Anyone around and available was invited to go tree cutting with the Byers. It was a whole thing involving saws, a Christmas tree farm, and copious amounts of hot chocolate. Eddie got some cut greenery himself, with the thought that it wouldn’t hurt to have a little solstice spirit.

After what felt like an impossible task, finding a tree that Will, El, and Joyce all liked (Hopper and Max being the indifferent parties), they finally chose one. After all of Max's sass and sarcasm, wandering the hillside for the perfect pine, she and Lucas were elected tree cutters. They both came away sticky with sap and the others promptly stuck crap they found to them. They ended up covered in pine needles, old receipts, and candy bar wrappers much to everyone else's amusement. Hopper, Eddie, and Steve hauled the tree back down to the farm's outpost to be wrapped and strapped to the roof of their SUV.

Eddie knew his arrangement with Steve wasn't one they necessarily wanted to share with the family. It was frankly, a bit more sexual than he wanted to explain. Steve had mentioned something similar on Black Friday. But Eddie had always been flirty with Steve… Stopping now would be suspicious, he thought smugly. So Eddie stayed flirty and found himself rewarded. Passing cocoa, brushing hands, getting tugged back into the trees for chocolatey tasting kisses... Eddie felt full of crackling fire that Steve kept building.

Mature after the cut - Explicit on AO3 ノ¬‿¬ ノ ⋆꙳•̩❅‧͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

Steve had driven, and there was an understanding that they were headed back to his place that night. Eddie hopped in the passenger's seat after 'goodbyes' and profuse 'thank yous' to the Byers-Hopper fam for including them. It was a bit of a drive to get back to Hawkins, part of why they had 'carpooled’ together.

When they got on the road again, Eddie began to fiddle with the stereo, and Steve staunchly insisted on no Christmas music until December officially began the next day.

Eddie held his hands up off the console in surrender. "Wasn't gonna baby girl.”

After a long drive with Eddie and Steve approved tunes, they reached Steve's place. He pulled the Beemer into a detached garage not far from what appeared to be the home it belonged to. Eddie followed Steve out of the garage as he closed the door behind them. They used the stairs on the outside of the building to climb up and enter Steve's 'studio' apartment above. Steve entered first and briefly stood awkwardly at the door while Eddie walked in. Looking around, Eddie was just thankful the bathroom had a door. There was a small fridge, stovetop, and microwave with some cabinets along the back wall that counted as the ‘kitchen.’ The sad excuse for a kitchenette very much looked to have been slapped together and attached to that wall as an afterthought. There was no way the small shower/toilet space was up to any sort of building code either.

Eddie looked around, and while Steve appeared to have kept it clean it was… "So fucking ugly."

"Yeah. Apparently the owner finished this space as a room for his son when he was a teen." Steve ran a hand over the plaid wallpaper. "That was in the 80s. Guy left it exactly as his son had it." Steve's smile looked forlorn. "But it was furnished and cheap and wasn't the back of my car. So…" Steve gestured around the space.

Eddie kissed her on the cheek and poked around while Steve took off her boots and jacket. He saw a few femme pieces that hung in the open wardrobe, a couple of tops and way in back what looked like a sundress. Eddie felt as though his heart strings had been directly tugged, and hard at that.

He turned back to look at her, sitting on the bed, watching him. Her hair brushed her shoulders, all bounce and shine. She is such a sun kissed babe… Eddie already thought Steve was beautiful. One hundred percent Earth angel vibes. Now why the fuck am I wandering around when I could be wrapped around her right now? He kicked off his own shoes by the door and shrugged off his coat, onto the floor. Eddie waltzed over, straddled her legs, and sat onto Steve’s lap. He kissed her with the fire burning in him still. The fire they built up that evening from all those small touches out in the crisp, piney air.

Steve worked her hands up under Eddie's shirt and touched all the scars he never did. She worked the shirt off, over his head, and began kissing his chest. She rested her lips against his nipple before pausing and looking back up at him. Big brown eyes through long lashes.

"Christ, baby. What's that look supposed to mean?"

"Mmmm just wondering how sensitive your nipples are. Do you like them played with?"

"Angel, I'll get 'em pierced for you if you like, just don't stop kissing me?" He already ached to have her keep going. Steve batted her eyelashes and licked his nipple. Her tongue was pointed as she played with the hard tip. Circling and practically flicking it. "Fuck," Eddie murmured. It was definitely working for him. Steve seemed to like his response as she lightly sucked it, carefully setting her teeth on his nip to pull back gently. He moaned, and she bucked up against him. So this is turning her on too.

"Can you take me tonight gorgeous," she asked.

"I can try…" Eddie hesitated. He wasn't prepped to bottom, but Steve hadn't seemed to care that much before…

Steve read it on his face. She laid a hand on Eddie’s cheek. “You can go do whatever you think you need, but I don't… um don't worry about being… ah, pristine?"

Eddie giggled and got up off her lap. "I don't think anyone has ever called me pristine, princess. But I'll be back with you in a minute."

He watched her blush deepen when he said princess. She seems to really like the right gendered terms. Good to know. He did a quick clean in Steve's terribly tight bathroom and came back out to see her standing, waiting for him. Nude. She held a condom up.

Eddie bit his lip. "You're negative."

"Yes."

"And I trust you."

"Sounds like a question.” Steve laughed and shook her head. "It's not a problem."

Eddie stared longer at the circular package. "Wait." He walked over to her and relieved her of the prophylactic, tossing it onto the nearby desk. "I want to, bare."

Steve's eyes widened a little as their arms worked around one another. They pulled each other in closely, chest to chest. "I've never been in without one."

"Even girls?"

"Especially girls," Steve chuckled.

Eddie took in a deep breath and pulled out of Steve’s embrace. He began to strip the clothes he still had on. “That's a perk to this whole exclusive hookup deal right? So let's go for it.” Eddie bent over, braced on the bed. “Like this okay?"

Steve’s eyes raked over him, slack jawed. “Uh, yeah. If you’re comfortable?”

Eddie laughed. “I don’t want you to comfort me angel. I want you to fuck me.”

Keep reading on AO3

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stevieharringtonwifeguy · 6 months

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wayne's newest mug that he gets like the day after eddie and stevie officially start dating:

#big believer of wayne and stevie father/daughter bonding times watching sports and fishing before steddie are even dating #wayne knows it's just a matter of time and he wants to get to know his future daughter in law. and she's great #steddie #transfem steve harrington #stevie sees the mug and immediately starts crying bc 1) wayne loves her and 2) wayne loves HER like not only is he calling her an in law but #a DAUGHTER in law and she's like 🥺#eddie is as dramatic about this mug as you'd expect him to be #like. BETRAYED. by mine own uncle. i mean i can't fault your taste bc stevie is perfect in every way #but i WILL be prostrating myself around the trailer in throes of rejected agony

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halfadoginatank · 10 months

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Addams family au, with Stevie as Mortica (she can be married in or not <3)

Her dress and make-up is inspired by the tv show Tish with a hint of Elvira.

#trans fem steve harrington #steve harrington #transfem steve harrington #stranger things #the addams family #mortica addams #this Stevie definitely sees the future born Addams or not #my art #illustration #digital art #steddie #genderqueer #stevie harrington

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scooprtroopr · 4 months

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9 and 28 with steve if you ever get around to it, love you bestie 🫶

Parker, thank you for being so patient with me well I worked out how I wanted this one to go. I hope you like 🖤💕🖤💕

9. Falling in and out of sleep holding each other and admiring the other while they sleep.

28. “Oh my god, your such a cuddle bug.”

It had been a long day and between hauling boxes up to your new apartment and attempting to begin unpacking you and Steve were beyond tired. Even with boxes strewn across your would be bedroom and only a mattress to lie on, the bedframe would be delivered tomorrow, you couldn’t help the swell in your chest as you looked around. Sure the walls may be bare and things you had a lot of work to do in the coming days but you and Steve finally had a home together. Thinking about this you couldn’t help the smile the crept its way onto your face as you lay in bed. Steve’s strong arms were wrapped around your waist, an empty pizza box lay at your feet, a reminder of the celebratory dinner you had shared before the exhaustion of a fully day hit you both.

You tried nudging the empty box with your foot in an attempt to gently move it from the bed. At your movement Steve’s arms tightened around your waist a tired, “where are you going?” leaving his lips.

“Nowhere love, just trying to get the pizza box off the bed, didn’t mean to wake you,” you begin to roll over in Steve’s arm so you can face him, but again your movement only leads to his grip tightening, pulling you closer into him. Finally finishing rotating in his arms you can’t help but giggle, “oh my god, you’re such a cuddle bug!”

At this Steve peeks out at you with one eye, a lazy smile on his all too perfect face before he sticks his tongue out at you. “ ‘m sorry I love you so much, you can go if my cuddles are keeping you from defeating the evil pizza box” Even as exhausted as he sounds, his voice is laced with the sound of a smile. HIs one open eye closes as you snuggle in closer to him, a content sigh leaving both of you.

It’s not long before Steve falls back asleep, and your breathing syncs with his. Up close you can’t help but look at all his delicate features. The way his eyes are gently closed, lashes fluttering every once in a while, making you wonder what he could be dreaming about. You follow the curve of his nose with your eyes, count the freckles on his face and neck, reaching out you stroke the soft skin of his cheeks. Eventually you're drawn to his lips. Lips so soft and pillowy, slightly parted as his even breaths leave his body. Lips that curve in the sweetest way when he laughs or tells you he loves you. Lips that have been the source of more pleasure than you ever thought possible. Lips that you have kissed countless times. Your mind begins to wander to all the places you and Steve have shared kisses, and to all the kisses you’ll share in this new home you get to build together. It’s with these thoughts of soft lips on yours that eventually your own eyes flutter closed, falling asleep still tangled in Steve’s arms.

#it's shorter than i wanted it to be #but perhaps this is a thing i will return to #at some point in the future #who knows #anyway here's some fluff #steve harrington x reader #stevie fic #steve harrington fluff #ali writes fic #steve harrington blurb

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hagnoart · 11 months

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Repost because pride colours

#istg this will be finished in October at this rate #i wanna post new things here but also wanna make a rainbow feed #like i feel future me will thank me later #but present me wants to scream #need to speed this up #anyways #this is steddie #steddie art #eddie munson #steve harrington #stevie <3 #stranger things art #hagnoart

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formosusiniquis · 11 months

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stevie just hit the wall

aka the multi chapter bowling for soup inspired Stevie fic where i give her a midlife crisis and a second chance at dating a rockstar.

transfem!Steve Harrington; Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Minor Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham; Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley; Steve Harrington & Chrissy Cunningham

“Maybe I should have just stayed with him, Robs. I mean I'm not getting any younger. “Okay 1. Tommy was using you to cheat on his wife of 10 years, remember, Carol?” “They were on a break. Basically separated.” She keeps going like Stevie hadn’t spoken, “2. He called you dude every time you went out with him cause he was a total chaser. And most importantly 3. He was a fucking CPA Evie, what a snore.”

NOW COMPLETE ON AO3

#transfem steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic #platonic stobin #minor buckingham #steve and chrissy are cousins #mentioned stommy #future fic #stevie harrington #rockstar eddie munson #single parent steve harrington #steve adopts dustin and max #who are still teenagers in this fic #also some mentioned steve/nancy/jonathan #whose ship name i dont know but do support original stranger things ot3 in the way back s1 #this is self indulgent anyway go stream 1985 by bowling for soup #my fic

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emchant3d · 1 month

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part 2 of runaway bride stevie! modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington pt 1

Eddie Munson is not having a good day.

His phone died last night so his alarm didn’t go off, his bassist is sick so their gig tonight has to be canceled, and his last three Uber rides have stiffed him on a tip.

He accepts a request from some dude named Scott with a terrible comb-over in his profile picture and gives himself two seconds to bang his forehead into his steering wheel in frustration with a closed-mouth scream. Then he dials it back so he doesn’t seem absolutely fucking insane. He can see the suit he’s about to escort to some fucking meeting even though he’d rather be doing any-fucking-thing else, and he pastes a fake smile on to greet him. He’s gearing up to fall into the usual routine of this godforsaken job, but then it all goes a little sideways.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and then a blur of a body is slamming into poor Scott from behind, shoulder checking him and almost sending him careening onto the sidewalk. The dude pinwheels his arms like a cartoon character, suit jacket puffing up around his shoulders awkwardly, expression so baffled it makes Eddie snort despite himself.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbles, and he’s reaching for his seatbelt to see if the guy needs any help - he looks like he might break a hip if he hits the ground - but then a whirlwind of white fabric swoops into his backseat and a loud, desperate voice yells "DRIVE!" in his ear, and he sort of just thinks 'sure, why the fuck not,' and slams his foot on the gas.

The car fishtails a bit and the tires squeal as he swerves into traffic, horns honking after him, and he picks a direction at random, going way too fast for this area of town.

His heart is pounding in his chest, worst case scenarios running through his head. He’s going to get car jacked. He’s going to go to jail for being an unwitting getaway driver. But there isn’t any more yelling from the back seat, just heavy, panicked breathing, and he settles into traffic and slows down to a more normal speed before he cuts his eyes up to the rearview mirror.

Time stops.

It’s Stevie.

He can’t believe he didn’t recognize her the second he saw her, but in his defense, it's not like he was expecting to see his ex-girlfriend in a goddamn wedding dress running like she stole something today.

Pure panic wraps tight around his throat as he takes her in - is she hurt? In danger? Nothing good could have had her sprinting away from her own wedding, but it seems like she’s just shaken up.

His heart calms a bit once her tears dry and they get properly on the road.

And shit, it’s so unfair, because she's just as breathtaking as she was the day they split. She looks just as sad, too, which is certainly not how a woman like Stevie Harrington should look on her wedding day. But seeing her in a gown like that - Jesus Christ. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. It’s like something out of a fantasy, seeing her in the exact kind of dress she used to whisper to him about wanting, the kind of dress he’d once promised to marry her in. Of course, they fell apart before he could even get a ring on her finger, but it still sends his stomach swooping to see the future they’d spoken about come to life.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he can’t help but ask, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah,” she says, voice high and a little squeaky. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just in my ex-boyfriend's car after I left my fiance at the altar, it’s all fine, it’s chill.”

“Okay,” he says haltingly, delicately, because Stevie Harrington is not the kind of person who says it’s chill, “it’s just that, you know, all of that sounds decidedly not chill.”

“This is so chill. It’s the chillest I’ve ever been, actually - hold on–” she says, and next thing he knows a swirl of silk is blocking his view and he sputters a bit as the train of her dress smacks him in the face, but she’s clambering gracelessly from the back seat and over the console to plop down on the passenger side with a loud huff and a cloud of perfume.

It’s different from what she used to wear. She used to smell spicy and warm, with notes of amber and cinnamon. He’d kiss the little spots in her wrists where she’d spritz it on, trace the veins beneath the tan skin with his nose to keep the scent of her with him.

Now she smells like vanilla and something floral, airy and light. Like he stepped into a bakery. It’s not bad, of course it’s not bad, but it’s…different. Not her.

Or not his version of her, anyway.

This is someone else’s Stevie now, and she smells like fucking cookies instead of home.

Instead of commenting on it, he just tells her to put on her seat belt, and she looks at him like he’s an idiot.

“And wrinkle this dress?” she says, her nose curling a little, and God she’s such a bitch and he’s missed it so much.

“I hate to break it to you,” he tells her, “but some wrinkles are not the worst damage that thing has seen today.” There are small grey splotches on the bodice where her makeup dripped as she cried earlier, and the hemline has some muddy staining from her mad dash on the sidewalk. It’s not ruined, but it’ll have to be cleaned, and a couple of wrinkles will be the easiest thing to get out of the formerly pristine fabric.

He glances over at her in time to see her run her hands over the skirt of the dress, smoothing it out over her thighs. It shifts, the leg slit parting to show her skin, teasing at the hint of a crease where her thigh and stomach meet, and Eddie rips his gaze away to stare at the road instead.

“Probably for the best, anyway,” he says, and he feels her eyes latch onto his profile.

“And why’s that?” she asks, and he smirks.

“Well, pure white? C’mon, Stevie, we both know that’s a lie.” He flashes her a wicked grin and she makes an outraged sound, but a small smile is teasing at her mouth even as her cheeks flush.

She kicks off her heels - red bottoms, because of fucking course they are - and slouches in the seat. She pushes herself up, adjusting in the pile of silk and corsetry she’s been strapped into, and he sees the absolute mountain of a rock on her hand, and manages to bite his tongue about it being the gaudiest thing he’s ever seen.

"So who was the lucky guy?" Eddie asks before he can stop himself, and the glare Stevie gives him could cut glass. “Or lucky woman. Person? Far be it from me to deny you your bisexual rights.”

He probably sounds like a jealous asshole, but he can't help it. He's the getaway driver for his one that got away on her fucking wedding day, and he feels like he deserves to ask a few questions.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel as the silence lingers, but eventually, Stevie just groans, letting her head fall back against the headrest dramatically.

"Don't laugh," she demands, and Eddie shakes his head.

"Scout's honor," he promises, and he swears a wry little grin teases at her lips.

“You were never a scout. You would have been kicked out for inciting a riot.”

“Hey, I just ensured we all earned our arson badges, okay? I did every one of those kids a favor.” Stevie scoffs, and it almost sounds fond.

Then she says, “Tommy,” and he almost swerves into oncoming traffic.

"HAGAN?" he says, louder than he means to, and her hand flies up to grab the oh-shit bar.

“Eddie, Jesus!” she says, glaring at him, and he shakes his head, focusing back on the road.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, but fucking - really? “Really?” He can’t help himself. “Tommy Hagan?”

“Yes, really, Tommy Hagan,” she says hotly, like she’s defensive, like she didn’t just leave the schmuck at the fucking altar.

“Well that explains the ring, at least.” She reaches over, smacking at his arm, which, thanks to the aforementioned ring, is probably going to bruise. “Hey, ow!” He glares at her, taking a hand off the wheel to rub his bicep. “Watch it, that thing’s a weapon.”

“Then stop sassing me about it,” she snaps, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms and her face falls into that adorable bitchy little pout he’s always fucking loved, and he looks away again.

He can’t help but glance back over at her left hand. The ring is…certainly something. Giant, square, one big diamond surrounded by other, smaller diamonds, with even more diamonds on the band. It looks heavy and cumbersome and like she’s going to smack it into every wall and door and get it caught in her hair and seriously, he’s pretty sure he’s already got a knot forming on his arm where the thing hit him.

It looks like Tommy walked into the priciest jewelry store he could find and asked for the most expensive ring they had.

It looks like a status symbol.

It doesn’t look like her.

“Apologies, highness,” he says, shaking himself free of his thoughts. It’s not fair to hold her to those standards. He hasn’t spoken to her in years. He can’t know what kind of person she is now.

But there’s still a bone-deep knowing that overtakes him at the feeling of the woman next to him. A sense of deja vu so strong it threatens to knock him over.

A different car, a different time, a different circumstance, but the same person. The same love.

He’d picked a direction at random, but as the streets become more familiar, he realizes he’s heading towards his place. It’s as good as any, he figures, and he shifts lanes, reaching to tap on his phone and shutting down his Uber account.

“You know, I almost expected you’d still be driving that beat up old van,” Stevie says suddenly, and he crows a laugh.

“Ah, Van Halen, you served me well until you almost blew up on the highway,” he says fondly. “Lost her about a year ago. It was tragic. I held a funeral.” She laughs again, shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says, turning that pretty smile his way, and his heart does a somersault.

“That was a very impressive move back there, by the way,” he tells her, “that shoulder check of that old defenseless businessman?” He whistles. “Haven’t seen anybody move that quick to steal an old man’s ride before, really, it should have been documented.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” she says, but there’s a laugh in her voice, and she brings up her hands to press to her pink cheeks. He can’t help but keep digging.

“No, seriously! And sprinting like that in heels? And in that dress? What’s that thing weigh, like twenty pounds?”

“It’s a dress, not a suit of armor,” she tells him, but her smile is growing, making her eyes crinkle.

“Just saying, it was pretty metal,” he shrugs, and she snorts.

“Well, you would know,” she says, and he ignores the way his face flushes in response. She gives a little sigh, wiping below her eye and frowning at the smear of black on her fingers.

“Here,” he says, reaching across her. His arm brushes her leg as he opens the glove box and he’s so fucking normal about it. He pulls out a few fast food napkins, holding them out to her. “No makeup wipes in here, but that’ll help with the worst of it.”

“Thanks,” she says, and she flips the visor down, tapping a napkin to her tongue to wet it before wiping at the mascara tracks running down her face. “God,” she groans, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn smear, “I look like a raccoon.”

“A very cute raccoon,” he says before he can stop himself. Jesus, Munson, dial it back. “Like the raccoon that’s about to get the best trash in the bin, she doesn’t even have to ask for it.” Stop talking. “The other raccoons are just gonna give it to her, on account of how cute she is.” He’s gonna throw himself into traffic.

“Did you just call me a raccoon on my wedding day,” she asks. Fine, commit to the bit.

“You called yourself a raccoon on your wedding day. I was just agreeing with you,” he replies, keeping his eyes fixed to the road.

Her eyes are on him - he can feel her stare burning into the side of his face, and his cheeks are going pink and blotchy and God, he’s an idiot–

And then she laughs. Not her polite little contained laugh, either, no, this is that loud, wide mouthed laugh that she hates, that makes her shoulders shake and her head fall back. It’s squeaky and hearty and a little obnoxious and he’s always been so obsessed with getting her to let it out, and he can’t help the smug beaming little smile he gives at the sound.

“You’re such an ass,” she says through her laugh, and Eddie can’t help but laugh with her even if it’s at his own expense, because at least she doesn’t look so goddamn sad anymore.

When they finally reach his apartment complex she’s a little more subdued, but the look on her face isn’t totally heartbreaking, and he’ll take what he can get. He comes around to the passenger side to open her door for her and helps her gather the dramatic skirt of her dress to keep it off the pavement as they head towards the stairs, and he knows he looks like an insane person as he carts a bride down the hall, but he just smiles at his nosy neighbors and lets this cement his reputation as the weird as fuck off-putting metalhead he knows they all think of him as.

He feels a little self conscious as he opens the apartment door for her, sweeping an arm dramatically to allow her to enter first. For the first time since she swept into his car, he wonders if this is a good idea. But it’s too late now – Stevie’s giving him a little smile and stepping into his home, and part of him knows this was inevitable. She may not have called him, but he was always going to come if she needed him.

He follows her inside and tries to calm the pounding of his heart, watching her take in his space, struck all over again by her beauty and the impossibility of her standing here, and silently prays he isn’t going to fuck it up all over again.

this was almost even longer, but I figure 2.5k is enough for a part 2! no tag lists, sorry, but part 3 will be here at some point. thank you to everyone who's had a kind word to say about this au these two are very near and dear to me 💕

#steddie #trans steve harrington #transfeminine steve harrington #stevie harrington #runaway bride stevie #my fic #steddie fic

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brunnerasposts · 28 days

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"She"

S.H. x Female Reader

Summary: All while you're getting ready for a surprise date, Steve is preparing to tell you for the first time that he loves you.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of st2-4, bit of a clumsy reader, fluff, dating, mentions of nudity, swearing, Steve just admiring you honestly

Additional Note: Once again, it has been a hot minute since I've written any fanfiction of any kind so please excuse my poor writing 🥲

If there was anything that Steve Harrington had a soft spot for, it was watching you get ready.

From the way you delicately dragged the mascara wand up your eyelashes to the way you always seemed to hum the same melody while spritzing your neck with perfume, it captured his heart every damn time.

This time, in particular, he was antsier. His leg bounced as he sat on your bed, keeping his hands busy by holding onto one of the stuffed animals you kept on your bed. This was a big day for him. For the both of you, though you didn't know it yet.

While you were showering, Steve spent the time rehearsing the scene in his head. He'd take you home after an incredible day, give you a kiss goodnight after walking you to your door like any gentleman would, and just say it. The three words he'd been itching to say anytime he looks at you.

He loved you.

How could he not? You were, in so many ways, perfect for him. Whenever you entered the room, his eyes were always on you. Because of this, he could read you like an open book. He knew that when your eyes would continuously shift around that you were overwhelmed or that when you would chip your nail polish, you were lost in thought. He knew that if he kissed right behind your ear you'd shriek and laugh as you were most sensitive there.

He knew your passions and your hobbies, and you both had already discussed the possible future together. He remembered the way you flushed at the idea of having children together, six no less. To his surprise, you weren't against it and he felt himself falling for you all over again.

"Stevie," You whined as you entered the room, a towel wrapped up on your head and another wrapped around your body. The sight made his breath hitch and his cheeks warm at the sudden sight of you.

God, he wanted to say it so badly.

Swallowing harshly, he found his words. "Yes?" His eyes shifted downward as you raised your leg slightly. A streak of blood was prominent on your calf, causing him to stand from the bed instantly.

"Oh, honey, you've got to be careful with your legs," He frowned, leading you over to your vanity so you could sit and let him take care of you. He kneeled in front of you, his fingers grazing the back of your calf as he raised your leg ever so slightly. You flushed from the position he was in.

"You still have those band-aids I gave you?" He asked as you removed the towel from your damp head of hair before passing it to him.

"Mhm," You turned towards your vanity, opening the middle drawer to pull out the cardboard box. "How many are in there?" He asked as you pulled a sealed band-aid out from the carton. Eyes scanning the contents of the box, you counted around fourteen.

"I'm good on band-aids," You confirmed, handing him the band-aid before returning the box to your drawer.

"Promise?" He asked, using the wet end of the towel to gently wipe away the drying blood on your leg. "Promise." You repeated as he unwrapped the band-aid.

With a soft grin, Steve dried your leg before carefully placing the bandage over the cut. "Does this happen often?" He asked, smoothing out the creases from the band-aid. Really he just wanted an excuse to be close to you, but he wasn't going to tell you that.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess so. I don't mean for it to happen. I just get distracted, I guess." Steve arched an eyebrow. "What distracted you in the shower?" He asked, noting the pout that was forming.

"My boyfriend won't tell me where we're going!" Steve couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry, honey, but it's a secret. Just know it's a date." He said as he placed a gentle kiss on your knee before standing. "A surprise date." You reminded him.

"And you know I'm not good with surprises!" You whined and watched Steve as he sat back down on your bed before picking up the teddy bear again.

"I know, but you love them." He teased, causing you to huff before picking up a hair brush.

"Can I guess?"

"You can try," He grinned, now laying on his stomach so he could watch you.

Your eyebrows began to scrunch as you thought about the possibilities. "Rollerskating?" You asked as you started to detangle the ends of your hair. Steve gently shook his head, gazing at you with nothing but adoration.

Picking up the small juice box you had opened earlier, you took the straw between your lips and began to drink what was left of it. "Hm, oh! A picnic?" You guess again, Steve once again shaking his head. "Two strikes. You get one final guess before we get to the car. Are you sure you want to use it now?" He asked, seeing the panic enter your eyes.

"No, I need to think for a while." You admitted, picking up your hair brush again before continuing to contain your already drying hair. "I used my new soap that you got me," your voice carried easily across the room. "Oh, yeah?" Steve asked, standing from the bed. "Mhm, the lemongrass scented one." You stood from the vanity, making your way over to sit beside Steve. He sat up quickly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your neck and bare shoulder.

A soft hum escaped your lips, followed by a yawn. "You smell like lemongrass and sleep." He admitted, making you laugh. "Sleep? I dont think that's a scent, Steve." You told him, leaning your head against his as he rested his chin on you. "Of course it is. I just made it up." He grinned, causing you to shake your head at his playful manner.

"Gotta finish getting ready." You whispered, causing him to whine and wrap you up in his arms. "Steve—!" You yelped as he pulled you down onto the bed, making you squeal as he began to smother your face with kisses. "No, no, Steve!" You laughed, him finding your most sensitive places. He knew just where you were ticklish.

"I'm not doing anything, hon." He said with a cheesy grin. "Yes you are! Steve," You continued to laugh, your breathing becoming rapid as you couldnt catch your breath. "Whats the password?" He asked, fingers delicately moving up and down your rib cage. You writhed underneath him, eyes teary from laughing so hard. "Stevie," You gasped out, his fingers coming to a slow halt.

"Not fair. You know I can't resist that nickname." He hummed, gazing down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Your laugh had to be his favorite sound. There was never a day he didn't make you laugh. Anytime you were happy, he found himself suddenly in a better mood. Your smile had that effect on him. Your laugh had it too. But most importantly, you had that effect.

Once you had caught your breath, you simply laid with him. "Gonna let me get dressed now?" You whispered, looking up at him as your own fingers began to trace him. You focused on each mole, practically playing connect the dots on his arms. Steve chuckled a little. "I can't tell if you actually want to get ready," He joked, noticing that you weren't even budging. Though the moment he said that, you moved.

"I do! You keep distracting me," You pouted a little, though it was a playful one. You made your way over to your dresser, opening a drawer. "Does it matter what kind of undergarments I wear?" You asked with an arched brow, causing Steve to chuckle. "Whatever you're most comfortable in, baby." He hummed before grabbing the teddy bear again.

It was from your second date together. Hawkins was hosting its very own carnival in the town square and Steve thought it would be a great date opportunity for you both. He promised he'd win you a prize and ended up with a backseat covered in stuffed animals. Steve wasn't sure what you'd do with them all, so you decided to donate them. However, this teddy bear was your favorite of them all so you kept it. Steve wasn't sure why, so he decided it was time to ask.

"Hon?"

"Hm?" You asked as you put them on. It wasn't anything Steve hadn't seen before so you went back to your vanity to begin drying your hair.

"You never told me why you kept beary." He said, returning his attention to you. You were already looking at him, a soft smile growing.

"He was the first prize you won for me. Thought he deserved to be kept to cherish the memory." You explained, plugging the hairdryer in. Steve's heart practically melted from your words. "Really? I didn't think he meant that much."

"Are you kidding? Stevie, I could tell just how much you wanted to prove to me that you would win him. And it wasn't to try and look cool or something either. I knew you were just trying to make sure I had a good time. But what you didn't understand was that I always have fun when I'm with you. No matter what it is we're doing."

Steve held the plush to his chest now, suddenly overcome with your words.

"I love you."

The room was overcome with immediate silence, quickly followed by the blow dryer slipping from your grasp and landing on your toe. You gasped and instantly shot up from the chair you sat in. "Fuck!" You couldn't help but swear. Steve sprang up from the bed in a sudden panic.

"I'm sorry! God, I'm so so sorry! This is my fault, I shouldn't have—" He huffed a bit before lifting you bridal style and gently sitting you down on your bed. "I'm fine, Steve, I'm fine!" You promised, biting your lip to ease the pain in your foot.

Steve quickly kneeled to inspect your foot, noticing that your toe had really only turned a few shades darker. Hopefully, it wouldn't bruise. "Scale of one to ten?"

"A six." You answered, watching as he further set into panic.

Steve sprinted downstairs, ignoring the questioning looks your parents gave him as he stumbled into the kitchen to grab an ice pack. He then flew back up the stairs, panting as he reached you again. "Here," He said, hands fumbling as he put the ice bag on your foot. "Better?"

"Better." You said, watching him with concern. Noticing that you were staring, Steve asked, "What?" while trying to catch his breath. That is until he saw your lip begin to quiver. "Oh no, no, honey. Please don't cry. I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have startled you like that." He apologized, wiping the tears as they began to fall. Steve cupped your cheeks gently, gazing at you.

"Steve-"

"Oh, princess, look!" He exclaimed, seeing your toe was still no longer the color that it was before. "Let me keep holding the ice here to make sure it doesn't swell, yeah?" He gently pressed, making you wince a little, but your foot was the least of your worries.

"Steve..." You trailed off, hoping to capture his attention this time. "I know, I know, but sometimes you say you're fine when you're not. So, it is my job as your boyfriend to make sure that you are taken care of." He smiled, gently rubbing the back of your calf.

"Steve." You finally said in a tone that was stern enough for him to look up. His eyes were laced with concern, searching yours for any signs of what he did wrong. You smiled softly before shakily cupping his cheeks in your hands and leaning forward.

Liking where this was going, Steve met you halfway, lips sealing with yours.

He shifted, cradling your head as the kiss turned more passionate, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. You hummed against his lips, fingers finding their way into his hair which you tugged gently. Steve groaned, his hands beginning to travel...that is until you gently held his wrists.

He parted from the kiss, confused as to why you stopped him. Oh, but he was met with that adorable smile and flushed face he couldn't resist. "Sweetie?" He asked, wondering why you wouldn't let him continue.

You parted your lips, almost hesitant to say what you wanted, but you took a deep breath and held Steve's hands. "I love you too, Steve." You admitted, blinking a little quickly to rid of the tears that were beginning to form.

He stared at you, unsure if he believed what he was hearing. The girl he loved more than anything, the girl he'd die for, the girl he'd kill for...loved him too. Steve began to realize that it didn't matter what he said or where he said it. The only thing that mattered was that you made him happier than he ever thought he could be.

"Steve, please say something."

He wasn't exactly sure what to do. His heart was racing, his palms were a little sweaty, and all he could think about was ways he could say thank you.

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused. "Why-?" But before you could finish your question, you were being tackled onto the bed in a warm embrace. You squealed in surprise, laughing as you held each other. He kissed all over your face, speaking between kisses. "How did I get so lucky?"

His fingers, once again, found their way to your ribcage, making your legs kick. "Noooo! Steve Harrington, you let me go this instant!" You begged, laughing between words. Steve couldn't help but laugh as well. "Not until I hear those words leave your pretty little mouth again." He grinned mischievously.

"Okay, okay! I love you! I love you! I love you!" You exclaimed, getting louder each time you said it. He finally stopped tickling you, allowing you to catch your breath. "I love you, Steve Harrington." You said more seriously this time, making him grin from ear to ear.

"I love you too, dollface. Now...let's get you ready for our date, yeah?"

The End.

#Spotify #stranger things x reader #steve stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #fluff #harrington #steve

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libraryofgage · 6 months

Text

Addams Family B-Side (1)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell (on the way!)

This is part of a series of unrelated works entitled "Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually" and I think that title is fairly self-explanatory. If there are any other couples you think would be good parents for our Stevie boy, let me know and I'll take them into consideration!

Anyway, the B-Side thing is because this is like taking my Addams Family Steddie au and just flipping the cassette tape hfjsdk

This time, it's Steve that's the Addams and Eddie that's normal!

Anyway, blame @whatthemeepever for this one specifically cuz it's gonna spiral into a wild ride actually, so let's all pray for Eddie in advance

If you'd like a tag for any future parts, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't

-------

The moment Steve is born, his father sticks a light bulb in his mouth. When it glows, he jumps with joy and throws Steve into the air. The moment Steve's mother realizes what's happening, she slaps his father upside the head, throws the light bulb at him, and threatens to blow him up again if he sticks anymore into Steve's mouth before he starts teething.

She follows through on the promise exactly two weeks later, and Steve's parents (one smug and the other notably singed but delighted) rebuild their house next door to his father's brother.

Steve's mother chooses his first and last name (Harrington, a reference to some long-lost family friend or other), and his father is reluctantly given the freedom to choose his middle name. In the end, he is dubbed Steve Faustus Harrington, a name his mother is so surprised to find acceptable that she kisses his father as a reward.

And so begins Steve's life.

------

"I can't believe you got expelled," Steve's mother seethes, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turn white. "Again!"

Steve crosses his arms, sinking lower in his seat as he glares out the window. "It's not my fault they were shitty friends. They got what they deserved."

He hears his mother laugh, the sound strained and indignant and very quickly followed by his father turning to look at Steve from the passenger seat. His sunken eyes are filled with suppressed delight as he asks, "What did they do this time?"

A few seconds pass before Steve sighs. "They said they couldn't go out later because they had to study for finals. I mean, what kind of bullshit is that? Finals are three weeks away, and they can't spare one weekend for the funeral museum?" he says, scoffing as he looks at his father, grins, and adds, "So, I brought the funeral museum to them, coffins and cremations and all."

His father's eyes light up, sheer joy and pride dancing in them. And for the very first time in Steve's life, his mother pulls over to the side of the road and parks the car.

"Pumpkin?" his father asks.

"Fester," she says, her voice low and somewhere in the range of upset, "do you remember when I tried to kill your entire family?"

"Of course. It was a splendid attempt."

She nods and looks at him with a tiny, somewhat pained smile. Then she turns and sets her gaze on Steve. "Darling, what kind of grades do your friends have?" she asks. "Because if you're anything like me, and I know you are, you tend to befriend people who are significantly dumber than you."

Steve blinks, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, most of them were about to fail," he admits.

"Then, isn't it possible they really were studying for finals? Especially if they were close to failing at a school where passing is a requirement of attendance? Perhaps you could have suggested going to the...funeral museum after finals?"

A few seconds pass as Steve considers her words, a crushing sense of realization and guilt dropping on his shoulders and traveling to the pit of his stomach. It makes him feel nauseous, and he stares down at his lap. "I fucked up," he finally says, voice quiet and apologetic.

"Of course not!" Fester says, reaching out and ruffling Steve's hair despite the affronted noise from Debbie, "Your plan was beautifully conceived and masterfully executed. Perhaps you should just talk a little more before pulling out the urns next time."

"Incredibly, your father is right," Debbie says, looking pleasantly surprised before turning her gaze to Steve. She sighs and holds out a hand, squeezing Steve's when he takes it. "Don't get so blinded by a beautiful pair of shoes that you completely miss the sale two aisles over, Steve. At the very least, do a little more research before resorting to torture and murder. Personally, I'm very tired of calling the family's lawyer."

Steve snorts at the utter lie. Debbie loves calling the family's lawyer. She does so regularly just to double-check the state of Fester's stocks and bonds and deeds and general worth. "Okay," he says, nodding once, "I'll remember for the next school."

"You know," Fester says, looking at Debbie hopefully, "Pubert is a senior this year. Maybe Steve could go to high school with him."

Debbie hesitates, frowning slightly before saying, "Yes, but it's...public school."

"The best Gomez and Morticia could find! It was highly recommended by Margaret, and Pubert can make sure Steve adjusts and makes friends."

Steve can see the moment his mother agrees. She sighs, lets go of his hand, and fixes her already perfect bob. "Well, I suppose," she says before looking at Steve once more. "And you, Steve? Would you like to try...public school for your junior year?"

"Sure, might be fun," Steve says, thinking about all the movies he's seen that display public high schools as a zoo and the worst place on Earth. It sounds great, and if the place is still standing while Pubert attends, it must be somewhat entertaining.

------

"You've got everything you'll need?"

Steve looks up from lacing his shoes and smiles at his mother, earning a nervous grin in return. Her blonde hair is uncharacteristically frazzled, and Steve feels warm and fuzzy (like a mold growing over his heart) at knowing she's so worried as to appear less-than-perfect in front of him.

"Yes, I've got everything," he says, gesturing to the backpack on the stairs next to him. In addition to notebooks and his pencil case, Steve has also packed a travel mace, a miniature bomb (alarm clock detonator stored separately, of course), a tiny bottle of tequila, and his lucky lightbulb (just in case).

His mother nods once, takes a deep breath, and then turns her head toward the kitchen to shout, "FESTER!"

Something crashes, a cat (they don't have a cat) yowls, and Steve's father slides into the doorway. "Yes, Pumpkin?" he asks, eyes bright and happy and utterly stuck on Debbie.

"Is Steve's lunch ready? You made something normal, right?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.

Fester glances at Steve, a brief look shared between them that's both sympathetic and endeared toward Debbie. "Of course," Fester says, disappearing for two seconds before striding over to the stairs with a pink lunch box decorated with black skulls (Steve chose the color, Fester chose the pattern, and Debbie gave them her stamp of approval). "A turkey sandwich, fruit, cookies, and juice."

"Fruit?" Debbie asks, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Apple slices!"

After a few seconds, Debbie nods, and Fester gives the lunch box to Steve, shifting some so Debbie doesn't see the conspiratorial wink that tells him the juice is definitely poisoned. Steve grins and shoves the lunch box into his bag. He finishes lacing his shoes and stands, holding his arms out so his mother can inspect him.

"You've done a wonderful job pairing your shirt and shoes," Debbie says, walking around Steve with an air of pride and approval. She rubs the sleeve of his pastel yellow sweater between her thumb and forefinger, nodding once. "The plum pants are a bold choice, but it pays off. And, as always, your hair is flawless, dear."

Steve grins, letting his arms fall to his side. "I tried that new mousse you gave me," he says, fingers twitching as he fights the urge to run them through his hair. "It works great."

His mother smiles even wider and kisses his cheek, pulling out a handkerchief and carefully wiping away the lipstick residue she leaves behind. "I knew it would," she says, inspecting Steve's face once more before nodding with approval.

"Pumpkin, it's time for Steve to go. Pubert is waiting."

Debbie huffs softly and gives Steve one last once over before nodding and hurrying him toward the door. "Have a good day at school, try not to blow anything up, and call me if Pubert tries to cut off your head with a rusty knife again," she says.

"What if it's a clean knife?"

"Well, that's fine. Grandmama will just sew it back on."

Steve grins and waves to both of his parents before hurrying toward the sidewalk where Pubert is waiting. His hair is parted down the middle and gelled down, his pencil-thin mustache is immaculate as ever, and he's wearing a three-piece suit. When Steve is closer, he pulls out two cigars and offers one.

"This isn't an exploding cigar again, right? I'm wearing a new shirt," Steve says, taking it and looking it over.

"Nah, that joke only works once," Pubert says, dragging a match against his palm to light it. He holds it to his cigar first, puffs a few times, and then does the same for Steve. "How long till you get expelled again, you think?"

Steve shrugs as he takes a puff from the cigar, letting the smoke linger for a moment before skillfully blowing it out in perfect circles as they walk. "I haven't been to a public school before," he says, tapping the cigar over the sidewalk, "so, hopefully, at least a year."

"Public school is fun," Pubert says, getting a wicked grin as he looks at Steve. "You can get away with a lot."

"And the other kids?"

"Well, they've certainly got a lot to learn. I mean, most of them can't even handle a little cyanide."

Steve scrunches his nose and takes another puff of his cigar. After a few seconds he asks, "Will we have any classes together?"

"You're a year below me, so maybe an elective or two. What did you sign up for?"

"I signed up for, uh, shop class, forensic science, and Gothic literature."

"We'll have Gothic lit together," Pubert says, flashing a smile before asking, "And you know what shop class is, right?"

Steve blinks, suddenly a little hesitant. "Is it not, like, something about shopping?"

"No. It's building things. With wood, usually."

"Oh! So, I can build anything?"

"I guess. I haven't taken it."

"Well, I'll find out. Maybe I can build Dad a catapult or guillotine or something."

As they get closer to the school, more students fill the sidewalks, but Steve notices that most of them seem to give him and Pubert a wide berth. They also stare, looking at Steve like he's some kind of puzzle to be solved, with more than a few flashing sympathetic smiles like he's trapped and can't get away. "You're popular," Steve notes, taking one last puff of his cigar before dropping it into a trash can.

"I would fucking hope so," Pubert says, finishing off his cigar and tossing it into the next trash can they pass. "I didn't flood the place with roaches and vermin to not be known."

Steve grins, listening as Pubert regales him with the tale only to cut it short when they get inside the school and pass the front office. "I need to get my schedule, but Mom said she made sure we'd have lunch together," Steve says.

Pubert waves him off. "Yeah, I'll meet you in the cafeteria. Have fun, cousin," he replies, mockingly saluting him before heading off down the main hall.

-----

Steve's first class of the day was AP Calculus, followed by AP Physics, Wood Shop, and AP U.S. History. When it's finally time for lunch, he surveys the cafeteria for a few seconds before finding a table in a dark corner that everyone seems to avoid. By the time he gets there, Pubert has sat down with a tray from the lunch line.

Steve sets his backpack on the table, sits down, and says, "For a place that's so lifeless, it's not even fun."

"Yeah, it's like that," Pubert agrees, poking some unidentifiable mush on his tray with a spork before spooning some into his mouth.

It's with a somewhat jealous expression that Steve pulls out his lunch box and removes a thermos of poisoned juice. "Is it bad?" he asks, nodding to the tray.

"Utterly repulsive."

Steve sighs and takes a sip from the thermos before pulling out everything else in his lunch box. "They made me wear safety goggles in shop. Safety goggles! It's like they don't know how fun splinters in the eyes are. And everyone is soooo scared of the saws, it's ridiculous," he complains, taking an angry bite of his sandwich.

"What about your other classes?"

"Physics would be better with more practical examples. I mean, who cares about apples when we could learn if a body falls faster than a cannonball?"

"From experience, no," Pubert says, "Anyway, you gonna join any clubs?"

"Maybe the swim team? If I'm lucky, I'll drown," Steve says, perking up a little at the thought.

"Best of luck with that," Pubert replies, stealing Steve's thermos to take a sip of his juice. When he places it back, he offers Steve a sporkful of the mush.

Steve lights up and happily tries it, wondering how something can be so perfectly undercooked and overcooked at the same time. "Impressive," he says, passing the spork back. "Is that freezer burn?"

Before Pubert can answer, a bang from the other side of the cafeteria cuts off all other sounds. Steve glances over to see a boy in heavy combat boots climbing onto his table with a mischievous grin. He's wearing a shirt with a devil head on it and "Hellfire Club" emblazoned above and a vest with spikes, pins, and patches. His hair is just below his shoulders and a little curly, and Steve can see from here the wild glint in his eyes as he stomps down the table while talking.

"I'm tired of the double standards of this lame school. If you're into science or band or some other 'uncool' interest, the administration couldn't give two shits! Oh, the choir room needs new risers so the current ones don't break any necks? Well, that's too bad, we've got to give the football team new monogrammed towels for the locker room!" the guy says, grinning when a group of kids to the side shouts their agreement. "And never mind that our Robotics team has won the school three trophies when the basketball team so valiantly scraped into third place last year for being kinda good at throwing balls into laundry baskets."

"Prick!"

Steve glances at the guy who shouted, taking in his letterman jacket before quickly dismissing him. He looks back in time to see the boy on the table sticking out his tongue and holding his hands to his temples to make horns. There's an even wilder look in his eyes now, a sheer glee at causing a scene and getting under someone's skin.

Steve doesn't realize he's smiling until the boy scoffs, shouts one more line about the school's unfair preference for "mediocre jocks," and hops off the table. He looks over at Pubert and asks, "Who was that?"

Pubert glances at Steve, studying him for a moment before swallowing another mouthful of mush and saying, "Eddie Munson. He does that once a week, usually."

"Eddie Munson," Steve murmurs, glancing over at Eddie's table again and smiling a little wider.

#steddie #steddie fic #addams family b-side #that'll be the tag for this one lol #addams! steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #debbie jellinsky #fester addams #pubert addams #steve deserves good parents actually

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redlegumes · 6 months

Text

If it's just till St. Patrick's Day: Excerpt from Thanksgiving

Chapter Summary:

An orphan Thanksgiving with their strange family. Steve reveals some new secrets to Eddie. Steve proposes a new arrangement for the holidays which they start. After Thanksgiving, Eddie offers Steve his support. Can be read stand-alone

"They’re just hookups though. Steve put his pants on after and left after. I shouldn’t, agh. That sounds so cold. It hasn’t been that cold. But it’s definitely a ‘friend with benefits vibe.’ Though… Eddie mused, our friendship was always odd too. Forged in supernatural hell. Now that the supernatural hell was gone, he had kinda worried how long their little trauma family would hold on. But here they mostly were, in November, still maintaining various group chats, hanging, and celebrating holidays."

Complete tags and finished fic on A03

CW: Smut, Closeted trans character, Tobacco use, Mentions of (not overtly detailed)- alcohol use, past physical abuse parents, family transphobia, disownment

( 〃● ₃● ) ~ 🍁🍂 🧡EXPLICIT CONTENT AFTER THE CUT 🧡🍂🍁

"Who knows what will be, But I'll make you this guarantee, No way November will see our goodbye"

Mrs. Henderson had set out a big spread. She was hosting a bit of an Orphan Thanksgiving for the ‘family.’ Not everyone was around, Nancy wouldn't be back from Boston till Winter break and Robin was off visiting family in Ohio, but those who were tried to make the Henderson house’s gracious invitation to eat there. Mrs. Henderson apparently hadn’t wanted to travel to see her family that year. She’d bought such a big bird, and said it seemed a shame for just her and Dustin to enjoy it.

Eddie learned all this from Dustin, surprised he made the cut for invites. It was still a big group making time for the evening meal. He and Wayne never did much for the holiday, normally turkey frozen dinners, football (that he didn’t watch), and cheap beer. So after a quick check-in text, he said yes.

Hopper and Joyce Byers were in, which included Will, El, and Max. Jonathan was in school for photography now, but he was coming in from Chicago. Mike got permission, as well as Lucas since his family was having their meal closer to lunch. Family was staying with the Sinclairs that week, and his house was going to be packed. Lucas practically begged for a break from his cousins that would be sharing his room over the holiday.

…

Turkey day arrived, and Eddie spent the beginning of the day hanging with Wayne, just catching up. He drove over afterwards to Henderson’s, feeling a little bashful that he was the last to arrive, the others showing up early to help cook and prep the table. The food was plentiful and damn close to the commercials and movies Eddie’d seen when he was a kid. So this is Thanksgiving. Wild.

He even assumed their ‘family’ followed the classic tropes. Before the meal was set out, he and Jonathan took a little ‘walk’ to wet their appetite. The kids mostly bickered and ran around, some watching the game, others watching a stream in Dustin’s room. Eddie hadn’t expected Harrington there, but then he remembered he had picked up Mike and Lucas. For some reason he kind of just assumed he’d drive off after, to his own Thanksgiving. If this was a regular one Eddie could only imagine a rich people version of the holiday.

…

After the meal, Eddie volunteered for dish duty. It only seemed right since he hadn’t done any of the prep. Steve joined him. Most everyone else had relocated into the living room where a game of Mario Kart had been agreed on. Based on the yelling and the huddle around in front of the tv, it appeared as if the game was in full swing.

Mrs. Henderson wandered over with a shot of brandy for the adults. She patted his cheek and then Steve’s before handing them two little glasses. She delivered some platitudes about it being the holidays and moved on to the next room.

He and Steve exchanged shrugs and grins before turning back to the last pots and pans. Steve knocked his brandy back once they finished washing; Eddie'd waited to follow suit. Steve had hopped up to sit on the countertop. He looked good. Maybe it was just that extrovert glow. Or maybe it's because he's one-on-one with me for the first time this evening.

They'd talked since Halloween. Mostly flirting over texts, which wasn't too new, but things had gotten… perhaps… maybe… just a teensy bit more complicated. Steve had been over to his twice now without booze and slutty costumes to provide an easy excuse for ‘bad’ behavior. They'd done the dirty on a total of three occasions at this point and each time it had been good. We both got off. Hell, more than just getting off. Recalling Steve, fucking him on his bed, instantly made Eddie’s cheeks red.

They’re just hookups though. Steve put his pants on after and left after. I shouldn’t, agh. That sounds so cold. It hasn’t been that cold. But it’s definitely a ‘friend with benefits vibe.’ Though… Eddie mused, our friendship was always odd too. Forged in supernatural hell. Now that the supernatural hell was gone, he had kinda worried how long their little trauma family would hold on. But here they mostly were, in November, still maintaining various group chats, hanging, and celebrating holidays.

Eddie had sat down in a kitchen chair, broken from his thoughts by the tap of Steve's foot on his knee.

"Eddie."

"Yeah?"

Steve’s volume was low, but the house had gotten so noisy Eddie doubted anyone could hear their conversation. "I was just saying it's cuffing season. Look, I’d, ah… I’m good with hooking up for the holidays."

Eddie felt himself do the double take. "What?"

"I know you heard me that time."

"Yeah, but cuffing is a little more than just fucking." Eddie gazed up at Steve, still somehow cool and calm above him. Eddie wanted to run a hand through his hair but he'd tied it up. He settled for picking at a fraying rip on his jeans. Cuffing… that’s practically. Nope. Not even gonna think it.

"We could keep it casual but exclusive. You do like it don’t you? That way we could do fewer barriers. It’s fun, Munson. Been real fun. So, let’s keep it going." Steve winked at him. No no. I am the winker. I’m the bad boy here. Who does he think he is? "I want more, but I like a little structure. And if true love shows up in between for either of us, we break it off. No hurt feelings."

"No hurt feelings? We’re just above tolerating each other as it is." Aren't we? I'm always teasing and pushing. Well, is that it? Is he finally pushing back? What's it gonna be, Munson, he asked himself. Take him seriously or… nah. Obviously more teasing. "Former fuckboy."

Steve snorted. "E-girl wannabe."

"Fantasy footballer.” Eddie stuck his tongue out. “Best you can do, without enough skill for a scholarship."

"Shows what you know. I still didn’t have enough cash to go to State, even with the scholarship."

Why lie about that? "That’s fucking bullshit. You’re a ‘Harrington,’ as in Harrington Law Offices with that, y'know. The awful jingle on the radio." Eddie snapped his fingers but couldn't remember it.

Steve’s face soured, and he slid off the countertop. "Disowned."

Okay. That. That I couldn’t have heard right. "Steve. Wait. What?"

Steve looked at him as though calculations were running through his head. "Not here," he jerked his chin out toward the backyard.

Eddie flicked the light on as they walked out. As soon as the door shut he launched what felt like the first of a few million questions he had. "Since when? Also who knows? And Steve, we can fill out a fucking FAFSA for you. Why not? You can still go to college, man."

Steve stuck his hands in his pockets and jumped a bit in place as though he'd experienced a chill. It wasn’t that cold outside, considering the time of year. "You got smokes on you,” Steve asked instead of answering one of Eddie’s many questions.

Eddie patted his pockets. "Fuck. The pack's in the van."

"That's fine." It didn't look fine. Steve rocked on his feet.

"You sure?"

"I wanted to go on HRT." Steve said, suddenly focused on his Adidas. "I wanted to transition."

Eddie looked over Steve. To his eye nothing had changed. His hair was a little long, but it wasn't as long as Eddie's. He knew Steve shaved all the time, but that was explained as a holdover from his swimming days, and of course now he knew how some of Steve's partners probably liked that but… trans? Eddie knew better. He already felt shitty for ‘looking’ for clues. It didn't matter how Steve presented now. If the 'he' wasn't good for him, she should be able to be a her.

Steve was nervously rambling a little. "Yeah, I won't exactly be treating you to too much if we do hook-up for the holidays. Why did you think I was here and not with my bio family anyway? Family?" He muttered, "this is what I’ve got."

“You want to transition." Eddie hated the disbelief betrayed in his tone as he made the statement. That’s not what he, she? he? needs from me right now. Fuck. Why'd he say wanted? Past-tense. What the hell happened?

Steve finally looked up and met Eddie's eyes. "I did. End of high school, I spoke to my doctor about it and was trying to start shifting the way I present, just a little and… And then I told them… Bye bye insurance, home, financing for college. I would have had to take out too much in personal loans." Steve had turned away from Eddie, head thrown back as he stared at the visible stars above them. "I didn't qualify for financial aid when I was with my folks. Luckily, the car was in my name, so I got to keep that. But… I was homeless for a little and…" Eddie walked around to Steve's front, an urgent need to be in his space. "I mean, I got out with a duffle bag."

Steve's hand went to his face in a gesture Eddie recognized. If he thought of his past battles or his losses, Steve always had to check his face to make sure the cuts had healed and the bruising had gone away. It 'grounded' him, Robin had once said.

That motion with that story. "They didn't," Eddie gasped. He held the hand on Steve's face with his own, gripping Steve's waist with the other.

Steve's big eyes met Eddie's. He whispered, "I can take a hit."

Eddie's eyes raked over Steve's face. He held him a little tighter. "You can dish ‘em out too."

"Not in that moment." Steve chuckled, and he let his hand leave his face. He shifted it to hold Eddie's hand and shrugged. "That's what he wanted. Restraining order with an assault charge strapped to it. Make things a lot easier to explain versus, 'I disowned my son because he was trying to be my daughter.' Easier for others to digest. Though, I guess they say whatever they want about me now." He shared the last piece of information as though he was contemplating it for the first time.

"Steve." Eddie dropped his hand and flung his arms around him, holding him as tightly as he dared. "I can't believe… this whole time you’ve been on your own like that. Who else knows? Why? You've never said."

Steve pulled back a bit to shake his head. "Eddie, you know why."

Because he would've had to have said why they did it. Explained. Eddie looked hard at Steve's saddened but resigned face. He thinks his plans for his future, including transitioning, died that night. Jesus Fucking Christ.

"Robin knows about everything. Dustin knows something happened and about my apartment. Hopper probably knows that I'm cut off and living independently, but he was a detective basically so..." Steve sighed, and Eddie watched him brace, as if he was waiting for some sort of rejection. "Now you know everything too," he said softly.

Eddie looked at Steve’s big eyes glistening magically like they did, even under the poor strength flood light in Dustin Henderson's backyard. Guess I was always kinda right. Eddie had privately believed that eyes so starry and big could only exist due to princess powers. His heart broke for the sweet princess in his arms. He couldn’t help but be reminded, standing in each other’s embrace, that Steve was very, very pretty.

He kissed him, and, at first, Steve tensed. Then he relaxed in Eddie’s hold, letting him kiss deeper. Steve’s lips were just as welcoming and sweet as the last time they’d kissed. Okay… Eddie had made a decision. I want this.

He let them part, stifling a little moan when he did. "’Cuffed’ or ‘exclusively hooking-up’ so shit isn’t so bleak with all that holiday Hallmark crap plastered everywhere. Whichever, whatever. I'm in. Okay?"

Steve bit his bottom lip and then ran a hand up the side of Eddie's neck. "Okay," he whispered back. They kissed again till Steve got anxious that someone might come out to get them.

Eddie felt as though he couldn't care less, but there was pie waiting inside to be considered.

…

"How's the apprenticeship going," Hopper asked.

Eddie was moments from taking a huge bite of pumpkin pie, but he set it down to answer Hopper. "It's fine, and no nights. So, in theory, I could gig again when I want to."

"You with a wrench seems like a menacing image," Hopper replied. Eddie knew him well enough now to know when he was fucking with him. He stuck his tongue out and went back to his pie. The mechanic apprenticeship was going well, they paid him to learn a trade. All in all, a good deal from where Eddie was sitting.

Dustin piped up. "You should see him with a guitar."

"Will you play some tonight," Mike asked.

There was a general begging from the table, and Steve appeared at his shoulder. He held out Eddie's keys that had been in his jacket pocket and dropped them in his lap. "He'll play. There's always a guitar in the van."

He knows me too well. "Fine. Yes, but a total of three requests only! And then whatever I want until I get tired. So you better get to brainstorming."

He returned with the guitar to find the family had split into teams.

Hopper, Joyce, and Mrs. Henderson requested 'Alice's Restaurant.' Eddie played a few rounds of the chorus for them. He didn't know the whole thing and didn't want to try. It was a goddamn long 'song.' His boys and Jonathan requested 'Hellraiser' next 'cause they were good like that. After came Steve, crouched on the rug between El and Max. He smiled wickedly up at Eddie.

"Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go."

"No," Eddie said firmly.

"Yes," hissed his traitorous audience.

But they cheered and he relented. Damn my vanity.

Steve watched intently when Eddie played. Even now, settled between the girls, he knew there was that spark between them as Steve watched him perform. Imparted in that instant was the knowledge of who would be following him home that night. It made it hard to focus, but Eddie managed to finish his requests and strummed through whatever came to mind afterwards. Everyone in the house had settled down, full and content. The evening was at an end.

…

There were plenty of hugs and 'happy Thanksgiving's' on the way out the door. Mike, Lucas, and Will were staying the night, and Jonathan had driving duty to ferry them back home in the morning. It gave Eddie the strong feeling his wishbone wish went through.

He put his guitar back into the van and waved at the Hopper-Byers group filling up their SUV. Steve leaned against his car as Eddie closed his back van doors.

"Angel, you having car trouble? 'Cause I never work on German automobiles." Eddie leaned back next to Steve. "But for you…" He made a show of looking Steve up and down, checking him out. "I could make an exception."

Steve fluttered his eyelashes and pushed up off the vehicle. "Mmm, lucky me." He dropped into his driver's seat and shut the door.

The hell? The car started but didn't move as Eddie walked to the driver's door, and peered in to see Steve smiling. Tease. He lowered his window and Eddie leaned down. "Your place or mine?"

"Yours?"

"Heads up. Nothing else is getting stuffed tonight baby." Ate too damn much.

"That's fair. But you forget… maybe I'm still hungry." Steve looked at Eddie's crotch and licked his lips.

The lethargy Eddie had felt after the pie melted away. Excitement pumped through his veins, waking all of him up. Fuck-buds for the holidays. Perhaps this is a brilliant idea.

He drove back to the apartment far too fast, grateful there were rarely cops on the back roads. Eddie locked his van, unlocked his door, and went straight to the bathroom to freshen up. He'd finished when he heard Steve knock and enter. He also heard the sound of the deadbolt turn.

He walked out of the bathroom and looked back over his shoulder at Steve standing in his little hallway. "Hey, do you want to change into something with an elastic waistband?"

Steve had a flirty little smile on his lips. "God, Munson. Where were you hiding that kink?"

Eddie smacked his lips, walked up, and slid his arms around Steve's waist. "Oh no. Sweatpants and a cock like yours? That's not hidden baby."

Steve pulled back Eddie's hair to rest his lips on Eddie's neck, just below his ear. "Then I'll have to slip into a pair."

He resisted the urge to do more in the moment, moving instead to the bedroom. Eddie rummaged in his drawers for a pair of promised sweatpants and threw them on the bed. Steve was just about to reach out and grab them when Eddie pressed up behind him. "Can I help you?"

"Now that you mention it, I could use a helping hand." Steve stood back upright and undid his jeans, letting Eddie help him push them down, followed swiftly by his underwear. Steve patiently stood still as Eddie eagerly pulled off his shirt and then his own. He left his pants on and wrapped one hand around Steve's chest, pulling their bodies close together. Steve angled his head back, seeking Eddie's lips as his free hand wrapped around Steve's hard cock.

Steve moaned as Eddie held him, jerking his cock, pressing his own denim covered erection against the bare swell of Steve's ass. His lips ranged over Steve's neck and shoulder, murmuring into his skin every promise he wanted fulfilled for Steve that night. "I want you to bust in my hand baby, feel it against my chest when your spine tingles, give you that release, let you melt back into me. You beautiful angel…"

Steve moaned, and Eddie tugged at a faster pace, keeping his hand at the same firmness. He wanted to wet it some but was loath to do anything that changed their position. Instead he sucked love bite after love bite onto Steve's shoulder. He let his short nails rake across Steve's chest and with a shudder and a cry, Steve came. Eddie drew up his hand to catch what he could, waiting for the last pulse of his cock before letting Steve go. Steve turned and sat on the bed.

"How did you make a reach around… Fuck.” Steve was flushed, his pretty lips wet and pink. "Eddie, my legs are literally weak."

Eddie could feel himself blush a little as he cleaned off his hand. "I didn't know that you would, dry… I, um. No shame in admitting it I guess…" He rubbed his hand across his mouth. Damn. Am I getting self conscious over my body count? "I've been getting cocks off for a bit now."

Steve looked up at him with big eyes and pouted. "Eddie. I'm still hungry."

Christ. Eddie unzipped and lowered his pants and underwear that time. Steve pulled Eddie's hips forward till he stood between Steve's knees. He ran his lips over the side of Eddie's cock. He teased the wet pleasure of his mouth by tonguing the whole of the underside of Eddie's cock, from balls to tip. Eddie flinched, fighting the urge to grab and manhandle Steve.

Steve seemed to know he was holding back. "You can put your hands wherever," Steve said sweetly. "I trust you not to choke me. Three taps for out, two for slow, one for keep going."

"You have been a naughty thing, haven't you? I'd've never guessed and now you’re sitting so pretty, holding my cock, telling me your non-verbal signals." Before Eddie could tease him more, Steve had wrapped his lips around Eddie's member and had half his length sucked into his mouth. Steve's mouth met with his hand around the base of Eddie's shaft.

Eddie's hand shot out and buried itself in Steve's luscious hair. Eddie held his head in place, so that he paused Steve's motion. He wanted to savor the depth a while longer, the tongue pressing against his cock. All fluctuating pressure and spit. He liked the precautions Steve had set up for himself. He wasn't as worried about gagging him when he started to lightly pull on Steve's hair. Eddie pushed his head forward and back at a varied pace. Steve's mouth slid and sucked obediently, focused on Eddie prompts.

"That's good baby. Who taught you to be so good," Eddie asked. Steve's eyes shot up to look at him. Light brown irises nearly imperceivable, Steve's pupils had expanded so much. They were a little teary too, making them glisten even more than normal.

Eddie couldn't tear his eyes off of Steve either. Mouth stretched, gazing up at him, so focused on his pleasure. So pretty and pink cheeked. "Lovely," he whispered. "You're so lovely, baby."

Steve kept going, and Eddie lost himself to the sensation. He kept his hand on Steve's head but let him continue at the depth and speed he'd last set. It was all consuming. Eddie barely recognized when it built so high he finally spilt over. The delight etched in his body in waves, as Steve sucked his release down.

Steve's voice was a little graveled when his mouth popped off of Eddie's spent cock. "You're teaching me gorgeous. You're teaching me how to be good for you."

Eddie felt like his heart stopped before pounding at high speed again in his chest. He leaned down and angled Steve's head up, index finger curled under his chin. Eddie kissed him softly. "Very, very good Stevie." Steve's face rapidly covered in a blush, and Eddie felt a grin spread across his own face.

They both put on sweatpants, Steve threw his undershirt back on, and then he lay down in Eddie's bed. Steve stayed the night.

…

Now that Eddie was looking for it, little pieces of dysphoria seemed to be everywhere.

The way Steve was always more comfortable with the girls than he’d been with his buddies on his sports teams. Those friendships hadn't stuck, but with Nancy and Robin... Steve talked to them on the daily. Any guy could be protective of his friends and kind to kids, but all the maternal jokes and the babysitter ribbing now sprang to mind. Any guy could care about his appearance and fuss with his hair, but now Eddie couldn’t help but think how proud and pleased Steve was over the length of his locks and look. Those things didn't make him a woman, they were just parts of Steve. Yet… don't those details mean a little more now?

Out of everything Eddie considered, if he knew anything about Steve it was that he would put aside his own discomfort and pain for others. The longer Eddie dwelled on the matter, the more he felt like it was deeply fucked that Steve had abandoned his transition. Steve had shoved it to the side as he worried about having to get by, and killing Vecna, defeating the Mind Flayer, and caring for the kids. How much of his stress had piled deeper? How much had he struggled with that core element of himself… herself?

When Eddie woke up with Steve still in his arms, sound asleep that Black Friday, he was determined to help her however he could. He hadn’t asked her yet about pronouns, but mentally he’d already made the switch. She deserved the help to be herself. I want her to be happy. I want her to feel whole.

Chapter continues *•.🍁.•* Keep reading on AO3

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #ao3 fanfic #i write things #smut #eventual trans fem steve Harrington #future stevie Harrington #trans fems can be tops is this fics secret agenda #found family #thanksgiving #Steve's still hungry #coming out #happy ending #stranger things #the whole gang #cuffing season

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 8 days

Text

Whatever the future may hold

Written for the May pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: Graduation

Rated: M

Tags: Omegaverse; omega!Eddie; alpha!Steve; pregnancy; mentions of sex

Notes: Set in the same universe as Whatever you want it to be

Eddie turns the square cap in his hands, feeling utterly and supremely sorry for himself. He's been imagining this day for so long. Snatching that diploma from Higgins's unwilling hands and prancing off that stage into a brighter, better future.

Only now, that future fills him with nothing but dread.

He groans, burying his face in his arms.

It was all going so well.

A while ago, when Carver and his possee found out about his little omegan secret, he thought his life was over.

Except Steve Harrington swooped in like a white, baseball bat wielding knight and saved him, and took him home, and cared for him. Knotted him near damn stupid, too, not that Eddie is complaining.

They've since commenced what must be the weirdest courtship in the history of courtship - stolen glances and subtle gifts and furtive dates at Steve's house or Eddie’s trailer. Eddie has kept his secret safe, and Steve is its biggest protector.

It's perfect. Everything Eddie never knew he wanted.

So of course it couldn't last.

“Eddie?”

Shit!

He must've been so far gone in his head he didn't hear the trailer door open, didn't catch the scent wafting into his bedroom. Pine needles and moss and sunlight.

“Stevie,” he croaks, and his stomach twists.

Footsteps approach. The doorknob rattles once, twice, before Steve realizes it's locked. His scent turns worried. Steve's worried about him. Eddie’s needy hindbrain whines at the thought.

“Eds, lemme in. Please?”

Eddie is unlocking the door before he even realizes he’s moved. Quickly, dread clawing at his guts, he retreats back onto his bed.

“Hey,” Steve ducks around the gown dangling from its hanger by the door. “Wayne called, said you wouldn’t come out of your room? Ceremony’s about to start, what are you- Eddie? What’s wrong?”

Because he has just spotted Eddie, back against the wall, arms wrapped around hunched knees, trembling hand still clasping the cap. Steve is in front of him in an instant, mattress dipping under his weight. His hands cup Eddie’s face, tilting his head up, and Eddie knows he should pull away, he really should. Still, he’s helpless to do anything but let himself sink into Steve’s comforting touch and scent.

“What’s going on?” Steve’s voice is a barely restrained growl. “Carver try shit again? You know you don’t have to worry-”

Eddie shakes his head. His stomach feels like it’s trying to crawl its way out of his throat. “It’s not Carver.”

Steve’s brow furrows.

“But then, what- … Are you sick?” He leans in, nosing the hollow of Eddie’s neck. “Your scent’s a bit off. Should I call a doctor, or-”

“Will you fucking leave it?” Eddie slaps Steve's hands away. The cap hits the mattress with a soft thud. “I'm not sick! Jesus!”

Steve's eyes are full of hurt confusion and worry. It makes Eddie want to laugh and cry and scream all at once.

“But I don't-” Steve stammers. “Why won't you-”

“Because I'm pregnant, okay?”

Steve's words screech to a halt. His eyes grow large, mouth forming a dumb little oh shape. It would be funny, Eddie thinks hysterically, if there was anything remotely funny about this entire clusterfuck of a situation.

“Wha-” Steve starts to say. Shuts his mouth. Opens it again. “I mean how- … I mean … are you sure?”

Like a line from some cliché soap opera. Eddie laughs weakly.

“Been puking my guts out all week. Took five tests, all positive. I'm pretty fucking sure, big boy.”

Silence seeps into the room. For a moment, Eddie thinks Steve's going to continue right on with the soap opera shit and ask when it happened. If it’s his. But Steve knows Eddie has never been with anyone else. Knows they've always been careful - except for that very first time.

Eddie screws his eyes shut and waits.

“Wow,” Steve breathes after an eternity. “That’s … that’s unbelievable.”

Eddie furrows his brow. Steve’s voice is brimming with incredulity, but also with something else. Something that, if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d put close to … happiness? Hesitantly, he peeps one eye open.

He’s just in time to see Steve launch himself at him, and then he’s enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. Steve’s scent crests over him, heady and familiar.

“W-wait,” Eddie manages to mumble against the rapid staccato of Steve’s heartbeat. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Steve pulls back just enough to look at him. His smile is so wide, Eddie’s afraid his face might be too small for it. “Why would I be mad? You know I want kids, loads of them!”

“Well yeah,” Eddie stammers. The room is spinning and all he can see is Steve’s smile. “But-”

“And you know I can’t imagine a better person to have them with than you.”

“Well …” Eddie can practically feel himself flush. “I guess.”

Steve leans in to kiss his forehead. “Then why are you so upset, dumbass?”

“Well, I dunno,” Eddie blurts, unable to keep the sarcastic undertone at bay. “Maybe cause I’m barely out of school? Or because we’re not even mated? Because your parents will go absolutely fucking-”

“Fuck my parents,” Steve declares. “This is about you and me. We’ll figure it out one step at a time. First, and most importantly: Do you want to have this kid with me?”

One large hand finds Eddie’s stomach, splaying itself over it, warm and safe. Eddie feels how something inside of him goes soft.

“Yes,” he whispers. “Yes, I’d love that.”

“Brilliant,” Steve beams, and kisses him. Eddie melts into it, but just as he’s about to lose himself in that summer forest scent, Steve pulls away. Eddie frowns as something is placed on his head - the stupid cap.

“And second,” Steve winks, giving his stomach one last gentle pat, “You gotta put on that gown and let me drive you to school. The two of you need to walk in half an hour.”

Poor Steve brought beer for the celebration. He'll need to drink it all by himself, whelp.

They're baaack, and they're having a baby!!! I said I'd write more of these two sooner rather than later, didn't I?

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles 2024 #whatever you want it to be #omegaverse #a/b/o #omega eddie munson #alpha steve harrington #pregnancy

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ladykailitha · 8 months

Text

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 1

Hello! Sorry it's been nothing but one-shots lately, but as I said in this post here I haven't abandoned anything, my life has just got a little crazy lately.

This was conceived because my sister's former mother-in-law passed away due to massive heart failure a week ago and I chose to write this story as a way with dealing it. I didn't know her well, but I did know her and that's enough I think to feel some grief at her passing. She was a year younger than my dad.

Summary: Eddie and Wayne have to go back to Kentucky when Eddie's grandmother (and Wayne and Al's mother) passes. Steve comes along when Eddie suggests that he would feel better if he came. Along the way they learn about each other's pasts and find out that they are each other's future.

***

Eddie walked into the Family Video and had to stop and gaze fondly at the sight before him. Steve was draped over the counter reading a magazine and steadfastly ignoring the bell above the door that announced his arrival.

He got up to the desk and greeted affectionately, “Hey, Stevie.”

Steve bolted straight up and ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh hi, Eds. I didn’t realize that it was you.”

Eddie smiled for the first time in days.

Steve grinned back. “You know, a boy could start to think you were avoiding him. You know, since I haven’t seen you around in days.”

Eddie winced, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. “Sorry, man. I had family stuff.”

Steve’s teasing grin slid off his face. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was a dick move.”

Eddie waved his hands. “No, no. There was no way for you to know. In fact, that’s why I’m here. To make sure you don’t think that I’m avoiding you. Because I wouldn’t. You see Wayne and I have to go back to Ashland for a funeral.”

Steve’s already contrite expression softened further. “Oh, Eds. That’s awful. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Eddie’s eyes welled up and before the first tear could fall, Steve was over that counter and wrapping him up in his arms.

“I’ve got you, Eds,” Steve murmured. “I’m here now.”

Eddie sobbed and sobbed as Steve just gently rubbed his back until he calmed down enough to talk.

“It’s Uncle Wayne’s mom, my grandma,” he explained, clutching Steve’s shirt like a life line. “She was just the sweetest old lady and now she’s gone. I’m going to miss her.”

“Oh, Eds,” Steve murmured. “I’m sorry. That must just be awful for you. If there is anything I can do, just let me know.”

Eddie chuckled into Steve’s work vest. “Too bad you can’t come with. I think I’d feel braver about seeing all Dad’s family again if you were there.”

Steve grabbed his biceps and pushed him back gently. “Done.”

Eddie stuttered and sputtered. “Stevie, no...”

Steve picked up the phone on the counter and dialed a number. “Stevie yes.”

And Eddie watched in awe horror as Steve’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears and he rubbed his nose.

“Keith?” Steve said, his voice rough as if he had been doing the crying. “Yeah, I just got a call from my mom. My grandmother has died and I have to go to Kentucky for the funeral.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. He didn’t even know that Steve knew where Ashland was.

“Yeah, my mom is from Lexington,” Steve said with a wink at him. “A real southern belle. I’ve seen pictures of her debutante ball and everything.”

Eddie snorted, because of course she was.

“I would need at least a week,” Steve was saying. “With the reading of the will and all.”

Eddie scoffed. If there was a will, he very much doubted there would be anything as formal as a reading of the damn thing.

“Oh thank you so much,” Steve sniffled. “I’ll even call Robin and let her know about her needing to pick up a few shifts.”

And like that Steve had gotten the week off.

“And the award for best crocodile tears to get out of working goes to Steve Harrington!” Eddie said, waving his hands back and forth. “Holy shit, man, how did you do that?”

Steve snorted. “As any good actor will tell you in order to cry on command, you just need to think about something that makes you cry.”

Eddie frowned. “What did you think of?”

Steve just shrugged. “What time are you guys leaving?”

“Tomorrow, early,” he said. “But serious, dude, even after that stellar performance, you don’t really have to come. Take the week off. Enjoy life for a change.”

Steve shook his head. “I would just be at home worried about you. Don’t make me stay. Please. Not when you said you would feel better with me there.”

Eddie’s shoulders slumped as he gave in. “Of course I want you there, but I would be selfish to take you away from your family for so long. Robin, Dustin...the rest of the them all need you too.”

Steve sighed heavily. “You’re part of that family, Eds. And I’m not dumb enough to think that they aren’t going to make a run for it the second they’re able to. As they should. I have to live my own life and not be afraid to go places.”

Eddie threw his arms in the air. “I hate when you make sense.”

Steve grinned. “Now the only remaining question is which vehicle we’re taking, Wayne’s truck, your van, or my car?”

Eddie laughed. “God, Stevie. I am so glad you’re coming with me. I needed that. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Steve’s grin turned soft and fond. “Let’s hope you never have to find you.”

“Damn straight.”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Robin groused when Steve called her after Eddie left.

“What was I supposed to do when he asked?” Steve questioned, twirling the phone cord around his fingers. He leaned against the counter, keeping an eye on the door.

The last thing he needed was Keith finding out he fucked around after giving him the week off.

Robin scoffed. “Not go?” she questioned. “He obviously wasn’t serious about you coming with.”

"You know I would do the same for you," he said with a sigh. "For any of you. Plus his life has already been turned upside down enough, don't you think?"

Robin sighed. "I'm not really mad," she said. "It's just that this will be the longest we've been apart since the Russians under the mall."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just think of it as a trial run for when you go to college."

"Yeah okay," she said resigned. "Just call me before you leave and again when you get there, okay?"

"Aye, aye, captain!" Steve said with a grin.

Robin giggled. "Shut up!" She paused for a moment. "I'll miss your stupid face, dingus."

“I’ll miss yours, too,” Steve said with a sigh. “I’ll call as often as I can okay?”

“You better.”

They talked a little bit longer until a customer came in and he had to hang up.

When he got home he started calling all the kids and packing for a week long trip. He wasn’t sure what he should bring in terms of clothes and ended up calling Eddie.

Eddie who laughed when he asked. “Just bring what you would normally wear this time of year.”

Steve chewed on his lip. “So I won’t get mercilessly teased about my preppy clothes?”

“Oh no, you will,” Eddie confirmed. “It’s just you don’t have to change yourself to fit in with a bunch of assholes who would make fun of you. Okay?”

Steve let out a slow breath and his anxiety went with it. He could handle that. Those assholes had never met a bitch like Steve Harrington before.

“Yeah, okay,” he said after a moment. “You and Wayne decide which vehicle we’re taking?”

“Yeah, he suggested we take his truck and your car,” Eddie said. “He knows he’s going to be taking a lot back and thinks your car will make it better than my van.”

“Sounds good,” Steve murmured, a little disappointed. “So who will you be riding with for the trip down?”

He could almost feel the grin from here. “With you, of course, darlin’.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah okay. What time do you need me at your house?”

There was a beat and then two before Eddie said, “I was thinking that you should spend the night so we could leave first thing in the morning.”

Steve’s heart sped up as his breath caught in his chest. “Yeah. Sure. That’s a good idea. I’ll show up at eight tonight, give myself a little bit more time to pack.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie replied. “Wayne suggested it because it’s a six hour drive and we want to leave as early as we can so it’s not too late when we get there.”

Steve felt a jumble of emotions at that statement. It was a relief that it was a practical reason, but at the same time it was a disappointment that it wasn’t Eddie’s idea.

He took a deep breath. “I hear that. I remember the trips to Lexington when I was kid before we started flying. They were a bitch.”

“It really surprises me that you have family in Kentucky. I don’t know why, a lot of people in Indiana do, it’s just...”

“Harringtons are so entrenched in Hawkins it’s weird to think we have connections outside of it?” Steve supplied.

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, that.”

“My parents met in college and I didn’t move to Hawkins until I was eight,” Steve said.

“Wait,” Eddie said. “No way. You aren’t a Hawkins native?”

Steve chuckled. “Nope. I’m more like you and Dustin then the Wheelers and the Byers. And the Sinclairs.”

“Huh,” Eddie said after a moment. “You certainly have hidden depths, my friend.”

“You have no idea,” Steve teased.

“Then I’ll just have to use this trip to dive deeper,” Eddie teased back.

“I have to pack, you dork,” Steve said fondly. “I’ll be over at eight.”

“See you then, Stevie.”

***

Permanent tag list: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #dealing with grief #minor character death

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stevesbipanic · 4 months

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@steddielovemonth Day 15: Love is letting yourself be loved @quinns-shadowy-arts

Steve was in love with Eddie. He'd long come to terms with that. Four months after the spring break from hell, crying on the bathroom floor of Family video to Robin asking if there was something wrong with him. Now he knows liking both is ok, that he's as valid as anyone else. He's allowed to feel butterflies looking at Eddie and it doesn't make his past relationships with girls invalid.

So he knows he's in love with Eddie. He even knows Eddie is gay. But he can't tell him, because it would make Eddie sad. He'd rather keep Eddie by his side on movie nights than risk ruining their friendship. He doesn't want to give up sharing a bed after a night of smoking just because he can't keep his heart in check. He doesn't want his memory of Eddie's face ruined with one of pity rather than his favourite smile.

So he's not going to tell Eddie.

But right now Eddie is telling him.

"-since I opened my eyes in that hospital and the first face I saw was you. I'm in love with you, Steve." Eddie's eyes are big and scared, Steve doesn't want him to have that look on his face but he has to set him straight.

"Eddie..."

Eddie looks like he was going to cry, "No, Steve don't, don't reject me please, I'll just go, I'm sorry."

Steve just wants Eddie to be smiling again, he has to fix this, "No, Eddie, I'm not rejecting you I'm in love with you too, but."

Eddie's face looks caught between emotions, "But?"

"But you shouldn't be in love with me."

Now Eddie looks confused, which is better than crying, "Shouldn't? Why not?"

Steve felt a wet laugh bubble out of him, "Why not? Because I was an asshole in school, I picked on kids exactly like you, I'm selfish and mean, I'm definitely not going to be a good boyfriend, I don't even know if I can love right. I'm bullshit, Eddie."

The sad look was back on Eddie's face but Steve felt it directed at him now, Robin got the same face too sometimes, "Stevie..." The weight behind something as simple as his name breaks him. "You should love someone who can go to your shows and not get migraines, or someone that can follow your games, or someone who has a future, Eds."

Eddie doesn't answer that, he just sighs and it sounds like the weight of the world is contained in that one breath, and wraps his arms around Steve, pulling him in.

"Sweetheart, Stevie, baby, how could I not be in love with you. You who cares for everyone in his little family he's found and protected. You who asks Jeff to record our sets so you can listen to them at home, yes I know you've been doing that. You who has rebuilt himself into someone good and kind when the other path would've been easier. You, Steve Harrington, are anything but bullshit, you are impossible not to love. Any future with you is one worth having."

Steve let's his tense body slowly melt into Eddie's chest. "Even if I can't believe any of that yet?"

Eddie presses a kiss to the top of his head, "Even if it takes my whole life to convince you."

And a whole life with Eddie sounds like something he can let himself have.

#steve is a lil messed up #but his family will always love him #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #ficlet #steddielovemonth #angst with a happy ending

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steviewashere · 4 months

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Perfect Timing

Rating: General CW: References to Sex Tags: Established Relationship, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Marriage Proposals, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, Dialogue Heavy

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is having hope for the future together."

💕—————💕

Steve was sitting at the dining table, hands spread out on the surface, staring down at a piece of mail when he heard Eddie clamber through the front door. Based on the string of things being dropped and Eddie not reacting negatively, just sighing a little bit and picking things up, must mean he was having a good day.

It’s funny, Steve thinks, that he knows the way in which Eddie’s emotions express when he comes through the front door of their shared space. They began renting an apartment in Chicago just a year or so after getting together. Tail end of 1986 meant sharing a bed and house by August of 1987. And it’s theirs. Filled with miscellaneous clutter—a bookshelf brimmed with books, coffee table layered with Sports Illustrated and Heavy Metal magazines, dice and keys and Topps baseball cards, and picture frames they dust and drawings from Eddie’s sketchbooks and ‘failed’ art projects of Steve’s that Eddie thought were masterpieces. Point is, they’ve made it their home. And they started their lives with a breath of fresh air.

And now it’s 1995, depending on one another’s reactions, this all may just crumble at their feet.

See, Eddie was out playing a demo tape for a small record company based here in Chicago. A little indie place that’s been looking to expand their music catalogue from contemporary to a broader lick of alternative genres. Which, it turns out, includes thrash and heavy metal. Which, Steve adores, Eddie is amazing at performing.

But, Steve? He’s been anxiously waiting all day for the mail to arrive. Biting down on his fingernails, chewing them up so much they bleed and he has to run his fingertips under lukewarm water. Pacing the carpet of the living room. Pushing down and peering through the eggshell blinds. Biting his fingernails, again. And then it came and now he’s at their dining table and now he’s waiting for Eddie to careen around the corner and kiss his hair and ask in his greeting Steve voice, “What’s this, baby?”

“What’s this, baby?” Steve hears from above him. He jumps a little bit. Maybe he should have put on music or something, try to get himself to stay grounded in the present. “Stevie?” Eddie calls.

“Oh, uh,” Steve stutters. “It’s a letter I got in the mail, but I—I wanna hear about your demo tape.” Eddie gives him a sidelong glance. A little furrow to his eyebrows, a frown. “The letter isn’t anything bad, I read it already. But I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”

Eddie hums, nodding in slow understanding. He slides into the dining seat across from Steve. Mirroring his position. Then, he realizes, based on whatever face Steve makes, that it’s only anxiety inducing. He sets his chin in his right palm, stretching the other onto the table for Steve to take. Waiting patiently. And says, when Steve actually grabs back, “It went really well, sweetheart. They offered me a contract.”

“That’s great news, Eds! What did—Did you sign it? Please tell me you signed it.”

Then, Eddie sighs. And Steve shrinks a little. “I did,” he tells slowly, as if testing the words for the first time. “I signed it. They’re keeping me based here. I’ll start recording next Saturday.” He squeezes at Steve’s hand.

“What’s the long face for, then?”

“I’m not making a face,” Eddie feebly argues.

“You are!” And Steve mocks him. Frowning, eyes distant to the surface of the table, bunching his eyebrows impossibly farther down his face. His shoulders slump. “That’s what you did! What happened? Were they pieces of shit to you or something? Did they like—Are they underselling your music prowess or something? Do I need to kick their—“

Eddie chuckles. His laughter like honey. “Babe, breathe for me,” he whispers. “My only issue is that—“ But he cuts himself off there. He leans in across the table. Eyes down at the letter in front of Steve. “That’s a letter from the community college, isn’t it?”

Steve pulls his hands back, laying them palm down on the paper. He swallows thickly. “It is. Why?”

“Did you get in?”

“I’m not telling you until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“You telling me determines whether or not I have a genuine problem. So…Did you get into the college that you’ve been looking at forlorn every time we drive by it? Or did you not and I need to go kick some old people ass?” His eyes are large in earnest. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat. His hair curtaining his face, making his facial features impossibly darker, shadowed by something tricky.

Steve chews on his lip. “I got in,” he mutters. “I got into their English literature program. And once I’m done with that, I transfer. And once I transfer, I start classes at a four year. I’ll be studying English literature and secondary education,” he rambles. His fingers tap over the letter. “Is that…Does that ruin your whole music dream? I don’t want to be the reason that you chase something else.”

For a moment, the room goes scary still and silent. Eddie’s facial features soften. And Steve’s heart rabbits against his ribcage. Hard enough that he slides a palm over his t-shirt, massaging at the rapid beating, hoping that he doesn’t have a heart attack on the third floor of their complex. That would suck, he thinks bitterly. And my future would be done for.

He sits back in his chair. Anxiety thrumming under his skin when Eddie still doesn’t say anything. Just keeps looking at him like he’s…Like he’s planning an entire five lifetimes with Steve. Like he’s about to sweep Steve off his feet, chuck him over the side of their mattress, give him hickeys until he’s a mottled lovesick mess, and then get down on one knee and surrender his heart to Steve’s hands. Like he’s gonna propose something wonderful like marriage. And, maybe, Steve lets himself believe something crazy like that.

“Remember when I told you that I consider marriage as a possibility?” Eddie asks abruptly.

And, goddamnit, if Eddie does something crazy and stupid like propose right now, Steve may just throw up out of excitement. How embarrassing, he thinks. And he chuckles despite that.

“I do,” he finds himself whispering. “What does this—“

“And I considered it with you. And I held you close and you cried against my lips and we made love like we were the only people in the universe? Remember all the times that you’d lay on top of me out of contentment? All the times I’d hold you close to my chest? All the times you kissed over my heart, like it was the only thing keeping us tethered to the moment?”

Nervously, Steve laughs. “Yes, Eddie. Yes, I remember all that. What is your point with—“

“Fucking margarita nights. You’re a sweet drunk, d’you know that? Like almost unbearably sweet.” Eddie scoots his chair around the table. Setting it next to Steve, on his left. And his hands come into Steve’s field of view. Gathering Steve’s palms in his, squeezing and caressing the skin. “All the times in which we thought that this apartment was all that we had.” He shakes his head, smirking, snickering like this intense reaction he’s having is something funny to Steve.

Fact of the matter, Steve is scared shitless right now. What if this is his way of breaking up, he can’t help himself from wondering. Cruel. He swallows against the lump in his throat. Words escaping him.

“I want to marry you so bad,” Eddie swears. “Wanna do the whole ceremony. And the paper signing. And the honeymoon, but in some little cabin on a mountain. Where we load the fireplace with wood and we huddle in for warmth and we sip at rich cups of Uncle Wayne’s hot chocolate. And then, in a few years time, when we’ve financially recovered from the wedding, we’ll buy a house.

“We’ll buy a house and paint it yellow,” he promises. Steve begins to cry, something silent, but can’t pinch his nose to stop himself. “It’ll be yellow because that’s your favorite color. With white shutters. And a big backyard for a dog or two. Wrap around porch so that we can sit and watch the sunrises and sunsets.” He takes a deep breath that sounds a little nasally. “I’ll make you breakfast every morning,” he continues, “serve you a fresh bowl of strawberries, ones that you grow under the big front window of our house. I’ll kiss you all over the face, like I do now, and you’ll grumble that it’s too early and then you’ll smell the bacon and you’ll give me your stupid sleepy smile that makes my heart do funny little flips and you’ll kiss me on the mouth and it’ll be disgusting because you haven’t brushed your teeth.

“And I’ll be a very happy man.” Eddie’s breath trembles in his chest. He swallows hard. Steve wonders if he can hear his own shaky breath. Or if he’s too involved in whatever this is. “I’ll be so happy,” he whispers, “And I’ll find myself thinking, how did I ever get so lucky? But it isn’t luck. And it isn’t fate. It was trauma that forced us together and I’ll laugh about it. But then I’ll sigh because who the fuck cares how we started all of this?

“You’ll be a funky middle school English teacher. With your nicely done hair and a sweater vest and some khakis. I’ll be a musician, hopefully. But, every day you’ll have a small lunch; an orange that I made you peel but I removed the pulp from, a tuna salad sandwich because you’re my fish loving dork, and a bottle of water. I’ll leave you a note everyday telling you how proud I am because I’ve never stopped being proud of you.

“I’m proud of you, Steve, d’you know that? So much.” He laughs wetly. His eyes staring down at their interlocked hands. “All this to say that I’m proud of you. That I’m happy. We’ve got a future, sweetheart. And I want to be your husband. Will you—“ He swallows once more, thick and heavy and almost painful looking. Can love hurt when it’s this sweet?

Eddie finally looks up. His eyes glistening and his cheeks wet and his skin tinted pink. His eyelashes stuck together. Nose dripping only slightly. He’s a messy crier, but Steve doesn’t fare any better. “Will you marry me, Steve? Stay by my side and we’ll accomplish our dreams together?” His voice is soft. Enamored.

Unbelievable, Steve swallows back. Because how did he get somebody like Eddie in his life? How did he manage to find love and have it promised back at him?

“Yes, Eddie,” he gasps out. “God, holy shit.” He drops his hands from Eddie’s hold, instead wrapping them around his torso. Muffled into Eddie’s shoulder, “All this just because I’m finally figuring my shit out? God.”

Eddie cackles, burying his own face in Steve’s hair. They sway a little. “I just—“ Eddie begins whispering. “I don’t know. I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while. Every time seemed right, but this one? Baby, this one was perfect.”

Steve sighs into the embrace. Content to not say anything else. Except, “I’m proud of you, too, honey. I love you so much and I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you too, love bug. God, Steve, I love you, too.”

For the first time since 1983, Steve allows himself to truly settle in for a future. A future, he knows, he’ll be especially proud of.

💕—————💕 Fun fact, I accidentally deleted this whole ficlet when I was copying and pasting. Hit the spacebar and watched it disappear in front of my eyes. But I figured out how to get it back, not before almost throwing up on myself out of anger. Love y'all <3

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 12 #fluff #domestic fluff #domestic steddie #<3

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strangersatellites · 1 year

Text

second installment of the eddie knows tarot-verse

decided to flesh out this post !! enjoy !! xoxo

part two is posted!!

edit: look at this AMAZING art by: @amethyst-crowns !

“What are these?”

Steve is gesturing to Eddie’s deck of tarot cards on top of his dresser.

Today has been just like every other Saturday has been for the past several months.

At the ungodly hour of nine a.m. Steve knocks on the trailer door to summon the boy out for their standing Saturday breakfast at the diner. After several cups of coffee and a rather mediocre stack of pancakes, they find themselves back at Eddie’s where the rest of the day is typically spent with Eddie strumming at his guitar and jotting down song lyrics and melodies while Steve entertains himself by either listening, interjecting with questions, or rummaging through Eddie’s things.

Today, he’s spotted Eddie’s deck.

Shifting in his spot on the floor he props his guitar against his bed and stands to walk to the dresser and retrieve the deck.

“I knew you were gonna ask that,” Eddie jokes as he pulls Steve to sit on the bed with him and starts shuffling with the cards.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow and he lets out a questioning hum making Eddie huff a laugh.

“They’re tarot cards,” he starts, dropping his voice low for dramatic effect. “Set aside your skepticism and allow the cards to tell you your fortune.”

Steve chuckles, “Don’t think I would call myself a skeptic, ya know, given the circumstances of the last several years of my life. But I’ll bite. What kind of future can they tell me, oh wise one?”

And see, as of late, Eddie has been working on not running away from things that scare him. Has been the reason he has run directly toward danger in situations severe enough to nearly cost his life.

Point is, one would think that by now he would know which scary things are hills worth dying on.

He doesn’t.

His big, fat crush on Steve Harrington clouds his judgment and drives his own morbid curiosity and self-destructive tendencies to have him saying, “Well, my favorite is the soulmate reading. Let's do that one, yeah?”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “They can tell me that?”

Eddie starts focusing his energy more intentionally on his card shuffling. Furrows his brows in an attempt to convey his seriousness.

“They can tell you anything, sweetheart.”

Decidedly dragging his eyes from the pretty flush covering Steve’s cheeks at the pet name, Eddie gives Steve a quick lesson in what he’s doing.

“So, basically, I just focus my energy-”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Shush!”

Steve giggles.

“I focus my energy on communicating to the universe what I am asking the cards. So this time, I’m asking them to tell me about the soulmate of the great Steve Harrington.” He catches the card that jumps out of the deck and into his lap and places it face down between them. “And that, Stevie, is how we pull cards.”

Steve looks questioning but not dismissive. “So you pick the ones that fall out?”

Eddie scoffs as he pauses his rapid shuffling and pulls a rogue card from where it’s peeking out from the deck. “Ones that fall out. No, Steve! I pick the ones that speak to me.” He resumes his shuffling and is immediately gifted with another two cards spinning out between them both.

Lifting his hands in a gesture of innocence Steve mutters apologies as Eddie stacks his remaining cards and sets them to the side.

‘Okay, pretty boy. Last chance to back out before all is revealed,” Eddie whispers, lining up the four cards he pulled.

Its an out for Steve if he was just feigning interest, and it's a copout for Eddie. Eddie who is actively psyching himself up to face disappointment at the task of telling Steve allllll about his dream girl.

Steve shoves his shoulder. “Shut up and tell me about them.”

Before flipping the cards face up, Eddie points at each one and tells what it is going to represent based on the reading format he chose.

“Alright, this first card is going to be representative of how your soulmate views you. The next one tells you who they are and how this person comes into your life, and the last two are descriptors of your soulmate.”

Steve takes a breath and gives a resolute nod.

Eddie steels himself and flips the cards.

Freezes.

Instantly his mind is running a mile a minute, both in shock and what the fuck he is going to tell Steve.

Let it be said that Eddie is nothing if not quick on his feet. And Eddie Munson knows for a fact that Steve doesn’t know anything about tarot. What’s he going to do? Correct him?

He claps his hands together and plasters on his most predatory smile.

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie,” he tuts. “Now this is no surprise,” he starts.

And you see, the best kinds of lies are ones that are based in truth. That’s the reason that Eddie taps a finger over The Magician and says, “Your soulmate sees you as a person of great power and influence. King Steve, if you will.”

True.

Steve bristles a bit but nods along.

Pointing at the next card, “The King of Cups,” Eddie tells him, “Now this, this is a good one. This one says you’re going to be a great boyfriend-”

Not quite true.

“- and that your soulmate is a new person in your life. You meet a new girl and not tell me, Stevie? I’m hurt.”

Steve laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, I don't think so, no. Haven’t really had much time since the apocalypse, ya know,”

Eddie’s brain short circuits a bit at the idea that he is the newest person Steve knows. Right.

He opts to press on. “Ah this is interesting. The reverse King of Swords. Well, typically this represents someone abrasive. Brash, even.”

True.

“But since it's reversed, it means the opposite,” he says.

Not true.

“She’s going to be gentle and kind. Aw. Isn’t that sweet, Stevie.”

Even the thought of it makes Eddie’s heart flip over and twist with discomfort. Despite the fact that he’s lying out of his ass.

Steve is getting really into it and picks up the last card himself. “What’s this one? The Tower.”

Eddie twirls a piece of his hair around his finger and thinks for a split second before responding with the first thing that comes to mind.

“It’s a landmark. It means you’ll meet her somewhere you’re familiar with. Maybe that farmer’s market you like to go to on Sunday’s! That seems like a good place to meet someone.”

Steve wrings his hands together and then takes Eddie’s notebook from the floor to jot down what he’s learned.

If Eddie wasn’t already trying valiantly to hold back his own impending panic he might find his enthusiasm cute. As it is, he’s experiencing the heavy feeling of dread settling low in his stomach of the realization of what this reading actually says.

The Magician actually says that Steve’s soulmate had to learn to use their intuition to get to know him. Had to look past his power and influence, his King Steve persona.

The reverse King of Swords actually says that it's someone abrasive and blunt. Someone who uses words as a weapon and easily finds themselves in harm's way.

The Tower actually says that this person comes close to chaos, destruction. Has had their life turned upside down. When pulled with the reverse King of Swords it implies that this person nearly fell victim to their own rash decisions.

If that wasn’t enough, it's the King of Cups that really put Eddie over the edge. Because it tells us that Steve’s soulmate is someone older than him who came into his life with a bang.

It also says it's a guy.

But Eddie just agrees with Steve’s request to join him on a trip to the farmer’s market tomorrow and puts his cards back on the dresser with a ringing static sound in his ears.

He’s content to join Steve on his quest to find his nice girl at the farmer’s market if it means he never has to tell him the truth.

That the cards said Steve’s soulmate was him.

_________________________________________________

It's Tuesday night and Eddie is nose-deep in some book Gareth recommended to him. Truth be told it's boring, but he’s reading it because his friend liked it. He can never say Eddie never did anything for him.

A firm knock on his door frame has his eyes shooting up.

Wayne is standing there, hands in his pockets. He nods Eddie’s direction.

“Got a call from that Buckley girl, kid.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows as he walks to the phone in the living room.

He answers with a question in his voice.

“Hey Bird. You okay?”

He is cut off from asking anything else when Robin launches into one of her rambles.

“Well honestly I feel like I might be going crazy because like a year ago- well I guess it was two years ago. Anyway- this one Summer our tv went out and I had to find other ways to entertain myself, and you know I’ve already read every book I own and Steve was working on his house and was busy all the time so no one could drive me to the library-”

“Bird! What’s going on? Why did you call?”

She groans dramatically, “I was getting there Eddie. But fine. I learned how to read tarot and I don’t know what you said to Steve about the soulmate reading you did for him, but I know for a fact that The Tower has nothing to do with the farmer’s market.”

And isn't that just it? All of Eddie’s carefully crafted lies coming back to bite him.

“I- Robbie. You can’t tell him. Please?”

Her voice drops in a show of sincerity.

“Of course not Eds. I won’t tell him.”

He heaves out a breath of relief.

“Thank you, Bird. I owe you one.”

She giggles.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” She pauses before she speaks again.

“Not with Steve though. He’s the one who taught me how to read the cards.”

#Eddie knows tarot #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #Steve is causing problems on purpose #Eddie is going to have to go into hibernation after this stunt #robin is a ride or die #gin writes #shot of gin

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joehawke · 10 months

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idk why this just popped into my head, but thinking about Steve who’s actually insanely smart, he always got straight A’s in school and the whole “dumb jock” was just a stereotype that Steve got stuck under and just never tried to prove wrong. Who cared whether or not he was actually smart? So he just played along. (Besides, it was an in to flirt with the girls; to pretend like he didn’t know what he was doing.) His parents had him tutored since he was old enough to count on his fingers, and sure it was exhausting, but it was something he was good at. Math, reading, science, it all came easy to him. He liked being able to impress the people around him. When he got involved with the upside down, the one thing that didn’t crumble around him was his studies. He was determined to make his parents proud. When it was time to send out all his college applications, his parents hadn’t returned home in months and by the time he heard back from the schools the upside down was worse than it’s ever been and it just wasn’t a concern anymore. So Steve stuffed the enveloped futures away. He had completely forgot about them. Until now.

It’s been a month since Hawkins cracked open. Max and Eddie both have been discharged from the hospital, on strict rehabilitation protocols. Because Wayne still had to work despite the government hush money, Steve decided it was best for Eddie to stay with him. Besides, the house is quiet and lonely, why not put it to good use? Steve had been downstairs frying eggs on a pan when Eddie came bounding around the corner clutching a stack of opened envelopes. He looked confused.

“What’s wrong Eds? What are those?” Steve asked, and when Eddie started rifling through the envelopes Steve caught the slightest sight of his school symbols. His heart dropped. “Eddie it’s not -“

“Harvard, Princeton, Yale, Columbia -“ Eddie starts naming off as he rifles through each envelope.

“Eddie.”

“You got into them all Steve. There’s like 10 different top notch schools here that you got into. Why has no one heard about this? And why are they stuffed in a drawer?”

“Because I’m not going” Steve says simply, like it was the easiest decision to make.

“What? What the fuck do you mean you’re not going?” Eddie asks appalled. And Steve gets why, he does, but he’s also determined to stand his ground.

“Why does it matter? I’m not going” Steve pouts, crossing his arms.

“Stevie. Did your parents pay for you to get in or something? Did they use the Harrington name you hate so much? There’s gotta be a reason you won’t go besides just being a stubborn asshole” and Steve gets why he‘a asking, and he’s never been hurt by it, but part of Steve flinches at the fact that Eddie couldn’t believe that Steve got in on his own account.

“No. It doesn’t matter, can we just drop it?”

“No. No we can’t. Do you know how badly I would KILL to get into any school, let alone an IVY. This is incredible Steve.” Eddie states, padding closer into the kitchen and Steve has to hold back a laugh at his rabbit slippers.

“I can’t go” Steve says quietly, turning away from Eddie and back to the stove where the eggs are starting to burn.

“Why though? Can you tell me that much?” Eddie asks, matching Steve’s soft tone.

“Because I have to be here. I have to be here incase Vecna isn’t really gone. Incase the kids need me. Incase Robin needs me. I can’t just leave…” Steve says, turning back towards Eddie to look at him before turning back towards the burnt eggs.

“Stevie. They’ll be fine. When are you gonna put yourself first sweetheart? I need a valid reason why you’re staying and I’ll drop it, because these aren’t -“

“Because you’re here!” Steve yells, turning back towards Eddie. Steve watches as Eddie’s lips part ever so slightly as his breath hitches before he continues. “When I got accepted into those schools the people who I did that for weren’t here anymore and fucking Henry Creel apparently was more prominent than ever, and the kids needed someone to take a hit and someone to protect them and Robin was here and she was the first person to care about me and what would that say about me if I left? And eventually those stupid schools were the furthest thing from my mind and then I thought about maybe going, maybe getting away from this hell… you came along and I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you Eddie. With the regards of sounding cheesy, you carved a spot into my heart along side those bat bites and how was I supposed to just let you go after that?” Steve’s out of breath, and tears are starting to gather at his waterline, but he doesn’t care because Eddie is looking at him like he hung the sun and the moon and the stars and he remembers why he stays. And when Eddie’s lips collide with his own, he thinks he found home.

“We’re not done talking about this” Eddie says, and Steve chuckles as Eddie dives back in.

#idk what this is #I just like smart Steve #I take that back #I just like Steve who has a hidden talent #I just like Steve #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #steve stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #robin buckley #eddie stranger things #steve harrington has bad parents #steddie drabble #Steddie fic idea #Steddie ficlet

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