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atimeofyourlife · 4 months

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Time after time

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: uncle wayne adopts steve | rated: t | wc: 942 | cw: reference to abuse, reference of canon fake suicide | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, steve harrington needs a hug

The first time they met, Wayne knew the boy couldn't be much older than fourteen. Definitely younger than Eddie, who was fast approaching sixteen. It was early, a little before 6 am, during summer vacation, no less. Wayne had finished his shift and called into Benny's to get a coffee and breakfast, on the mornings he did this, he was almost always the first customer of the day. Occasionally beaten in by a cop, or a firefighter, or anyone else that had been stuck with a night shift. But he had never seen a kid in so early. Sat alone in the corner booth nursing a cup of coffee with an almost empty plate in front of him.

"Mornin' Wayne. The usual?" Benny asked.

"You know it. But, uh. What's with the kid?" Wayne replied, nodding toward the boy in the corner.

"Dick and Linda's kid. They're back in town, and he needs a safe place. So he comes here."

"Why don't you report it?" "You think I haven't tried? His parents paid off just about everyone from the mayor down. Kid's not lucky enough to have any other family around to look out for him."

The kid came over with his empty cup and plate.

"I've told you a thousand times that you don't need to do that kid." Benny said.

The kid just shrugged.

"What's your name, kid?" Wayne asked.

"Steve, sir. Steve Harrington." He replied.

"I'm Wayne. And I wish my boy was as polite as you."

The second time they met, it was in more unfortunate circumstances. Benny's funeral. There'd been weird shit going on in town, starting with the Byers' kid going missing. Wayne didn't believe any of the official stories. But especially not the story of Benny's supposed suicide. He knew Benny so well, and something like that wasn't the sort of thing to cross his mind. He took his place in the community too seriously for that.

But the kid had changed. A few years older, and a lot more haunted. The look in his eyes giving away that he'd seen more than his fair share in his young life. And he was jumpy, almost always looking over his shoulder. He kept to himself, away from everyone else there. Wayne didn't see much of him until after. Steve was standing at the edge of the parking lot, his hands shaking as he tried to get his lighter to work.

"Here, kid." Wayne held his own lighter out.

"Thank you, sir." Steve replied, after taking a long puff on his cigarette.

"No need for thanks, kid. You doing okay?"

"I. I think I'm gonna miss him. He's helped me out a lot." Steve admitted.

"That was Benny for you. Always ready to help anyone out. But do you have anyone else you can reach out to if you need it?"

Steve hesitated a moment. "Yeah, sir. I do."

The third time, it was less of a meeting than Steve yelling directions at everyone. Tabitha, a woman who lived on the other side of the trailer park, collapsed in the middle of Big Buy. The kid snapped into action without second thought, checking Tabitha for a pulse, for her breathing. He yelled at an employee to call for an ambulance as he started chest compressions. At another to clear space. At some other customers to block the end of the aisle so no one else could stand around and watch. Wayne approached as Steve gave rescue breaths, before going back to the chest compressions. When he noticed Wayne, he looked like he was about to yell at him, but Wayne spoke first.

"It's okay, kid. She's my neighbor. And I know CPR too, so when you need a break I can take over."

They swapped places a few times before the paramedics showed up and took over.

"You did good, son. You acted quicker than any adults did. You may have just saved her life." "Anyone would have done it, sir. I was just the closest who knew what to do."

The fourth time, it was at the hospital. Steve in the hospital bed next to Eddie's, identical wounds, but Steve's were infected. Wayne got to talking to Steve while Eddie slept.

"I tried to protect him the best as I could, sir. I patched him up, and made sure he got to the hospital in time. I know I should have done more-"

"You did more than enough. You kept him alive, now you need to focus on making sure that you're healthy. And you can drop the sir shit. It's Wayne."

After that, Wayne lost count of the meetings. From sharing the hospital room with Eddie, to being friends, to being more. He would do as much for Steve as he would for Eddie, and wanted to ensure that both always had somewhere safe to return to.

"Steve, if you ever want to get out of that big empty house of yours, you're more than welcome to join us here. We'd love to have you move in with us." Wayne said to Steve one day while they were cooking together. Eddie always conveniently disappeared when anything cooking related came up.

"Sir, Wayne. I couldn't put you out like that." Steve replied.

"Nonsense. You're as much my kid as Eddie is, it don't matter who your momma or daddy is. We want you here, you spend enough time here as it is, we might as well make it official."

"I, Wayne. I'd like that." Steve was quite choked up, so Wayne pulled him into a hug. All was going to be okay, with him and his two boys.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #wayne munson #steve harrington has bad parents #steddieholidaydrabbles #atimeofyourwrites

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angeldreamsoffanfic · 1 year

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“What’s the deal with you and Harrington?”

Robin Buckley glanced up toward the question asker, her brows slightly furrowed as she cast an inquisitive look toward Eddie Munson. He’s leant up on one of his elbows, chin cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes are on her, large and curious, instead of the usual half-lidded expression he wears during the “adult” hangouts.

They’d all started hanging out ever since Vecna was destroyed, taking time away from the younger members of The Party to spend time all together. Herself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Sometimes, every once in a while, it led them all to feel normal. As if they hadn’t all been dealing with more Upside Down crap just a few months prior.

“What do you mean?” Robin instead asked, her eyes moving from Eddie’s to dart out toward the Harrington’s pool. Steve is sitting on the edge of it with Jonathan, the two boys heads bent together as Argyle watched on- a dopey almost lovesick expression curled on his mouth. A spliff dangled from Jonathan’s fingertips, rolled by Eddie but the weed supplied by Jonathan.

“You’re… not together.” Eddie’s voice is soft, and barely spoken above a murmur. Robin nodded slowly, and turned her head towards him to try and indicate him to continue. “Nancy and the kids all repeat platonic with a capital P, but I just… how did you and Harrington even happen?”

“Scoops A’hoy,” Robin grinned wide, barely able to stifle the laugh that’s on the backend of her words. She was able to catch the widened look that Eddie threw her way, before his eyes darted out to look towards Steve, before his eyes moved back to her own. “He and I worked there back when the mall was open.”

“And… what? You instantly became best friends?”

“No, actually.” Robin shook her head with another soft laugh, before she paused so she could rub her palms together. She allowed herself to twist one of her rings around her finger, brows pinched for a moment. “I actually thought he was like the worst, y’know?” Robin scoffed to herself, before she sent Eddie a look. She knew what she must look like, her eyes wet with tears and her gaze all permanently soft.

“You know how he was in school, King Steve and all that.” Robin continued on, and she flicked her tongue out of her mouth to wet the corner of her lips for a second. “And when my manager told me that I’d be working with a Steve, well… there was only one Steve in Hawkins I could think of.”

“So how did your opinion of him change then, Buckley?” Eddie cocked his head again, one of his hands coming up to twirl a strand of hair around his pointer finger. His brows were furrowed taut, creating a worry line in between them. “The kids told me about the Russians-”

“It was sort of before then,” Robin admitted with a small shrug, and she twisted the corner of her lip into a shy smile. “He raved to me, y’know? About uh, these kids. These five kids he’d babysit and shit, and it was so… soft?” Robin watched as Eddie mouthed out names to himself as he ticked his fingers, before he cast a look to her. “But he always talked about this one, Ellie, who he’d call his little sister.”

Eddie drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as Robin let out a soft hum.

“Yeah, and I don’t know if you submitted yourself to Harrington family lore-” Robin gestured behind her toward the Harrington house with a flick of her hand, before she continued. “But I knew that Dick and Helen Harrington didn’t have more than one kid.”

“Supergirl?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin let out a soft confirming hum as she watched Eddie’s eyes dart toward Steve. Steve was still talking to Jonathan, though Argyle had shifted forward so he was able to join in the conversation.

“And then imagine my surprise when one day our stupid sailor ice cream shop is visited by none other than the Chief.” Robin shook her head with a small laugh, before she continued on. “And he was so excited to see Steve, Eddie. Like genuinely excited to see him, ordered a couple tubs of ice cream togo and then said he’d see him at home.”

“Fuck.” Eddie breathed out, and Robin let out another sigh of a laugh.

“And I asked Steve why the Chief of the Hawkins police force was visiting him at work, and Steve just…” Robin shrugged slowly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before she continued. “He just gave me this look, like… like he didn’t actually know either.”

“Then later, he told me why he watched all of the kids. He told me that he would’ve given anything for someone to just… to just care about him when he was their age. That all he wanted was for just a person to give a shit about his wellbeing.” Robin shook her head again, before she carded a hand through her still chlorine sticky hair. “And after that my opinion just… it just changed about him.”

“Then the Russians?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin hummed as she dipped her chin in a curt nod.

“Then the Russians, and he didn’t… he didn’t even hesitate to take the attention onto himself when they started questioning us.” Robin shook her head again, sniffling. “And after I asked him why he would do that, and he told me it was because he knew I had a family waiting on me to come back home.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, and then afterwards when we were getting seen by the EMTs? He didn’t have anyone to call Eddie. Because Hopper? Hopper was just… just presumed dead.” Robin let out a soft bitter laugh, and she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My parents decided to take us both home after, and he stayed with us for a couple of days- until his concussion was okay enough for him to sleep through the night.”

“And that’s when you became best friends?”

“That’s when I decided that, Steve? He deserved way more from people than he seemed to ever fucking get.” Robin shrugged, before she cast a soft smile toward Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were glassy, wet with tears and Robin just patted her hand soft against his forearm. “That’s when I decided that he was my best friend.”

“Platonic with a capital P?”

Robin cast a look toward Steve, where the older teen already had his eyes on her. He had a hand extended, fingers wiggling toward her in a small way to beckon her toward his side. Robin stood without responding to Eddie, and she left her towel on the lounge chair she’d commandeered as her own. She took a moment though, cast a softer look toward Eddie- even as the corner of her lip twitched into a nervous smile.

“He’s not exactly my type, y’know?” Robin kept her admission soft, even when Eddie’s eyes were quick to flood with confusion. She instead cast a look toward the sunbathing Nancy Wheeler, who had one of her arms strewn over her face across the backyard where she laid in the grass.

When Robin let her eyes move to meet Eddie’s again, he has a look of pure understanding on his face.

“I think I get what you mean.” Eddie murmured and Robin simply flashed Eddie Munson a shy smile.

Eddie Munson watched as Robin Buckley walked away from him, quick to tuck herself into Steve’s side once she reached him. Steve threw his arm around Robin’s shoulders, tucking her further into his grasp- though the flow of conversation that he was having with Argyle and Jonathan didn’t even pause.

It’s in that moment when Eddie Munson realizes something extraordinarily fucking crucial.

He’s in love with Steve fucking Harrington.

---

this is gonna become a multipart fic i think btw! it will probably be on here / ao3, haven’t fully decided yet but hope you enjoyed nonetheless!

now with a part two! click here

#angeldreamsoffanfic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #platonic stobin #background jargyle #background ronance #but it’s pre every relationship #steve harrington and robin buckley are bffs #robin would die for steve #steve harrington has bad parents #but jim hopper adopts him because i said so #steve and eleven have a sibling bond #he’s the only one allowed to call her ellie by the way #this is gonna become an ao3 fic i think

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joehawke · 2 years

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Dustin: were you dropped on your head as a child?

Steve: bold of you to assume I was even held

Dustin:

Eddie:

Nancy:

Robin: Steve, we’ve talked about this

#robin buckley #steve harrington has bad parents #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson #steddie #ronance #incorrect quotes #stranger things crack

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strangersteddierthings · 8 months

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The thing is, Steve has learned, that becoming untouchable isn't all he wants it to be.

People were too quick to try and reach out for him, ask for more than he was willing to give. He hadn't wanted to give up his first kiss to some random girl at some random boy's twelfth birthday party because of spin the bottle. He hadn't wanted to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with Jenny Jackson or Linda Simons at Tommy's birthday party the following year. He did want to take Mary Linscott to Snow Ball, but she just wanted to make out behind the bleachers instead of dance with him. He didn't want to do that but then Brian called him stupid for not wanting to, and asked if he was queer. So, Steve had turned right back around and dragged Mary back under the bleachers, kissing her until it was time to go to prove Brian wrong.

(Even though Steve knows Brian isn't wrong. That Steve had wanted to ask Brian to the dance as much as he'd wanted to ask Mary but knew better than to do that. He saw how they treated Eddie Munson last year for the suspicion of liking other boys and Steve wasn't going to let that happen to himself.)

Brian had congratulated him after and asked what base he got to. Steve didn't want to get to any bases, but he couldn't say that, so he just punched Brian in the arm and said 'more bases than you' which was true because Brian's date didn't kiss him even once.

Then Carol Perkins approached him at lunch, shortly after Snow Ball, and asked if Steve would be her first kiss. Not because she wanted to kiss Steve, but because she wanted to kiss Tommy H, but didn't want to be bad at kissing. Steve agreed because he liked Carol. Not in the way she liked Tommy, but mostly because she'd asked.

No one had done that yet.

She came over to his house on a Saturday because she didn't want Tommy to catch them and think she didn't like him. They made out in his room because, despite his parents being home, they didn't really care who was in his room with him or if the door was open or shut. Probably didn't even notice he had someone over. She leaves an hour later.

By Tuesday Tommy and Carol are an item and by Friday they were Steve's best friends.

However, for reasons Steve doesn't understand, more girls keep asking him to be their first kiss. And maybe it's because he's already got a reputation, or maybe Carol let slip he'd said yes when she asked, but Steve finds himself kissing a lot of girls he doesn't want to. He doesn't know how to say no. Can't find a reason too. Brian's words play in the back of his mind every time he thinks about saying no.

(Are you stupid? Are you queer? He doesn't want to be either of those things, and given his grade in biology and pre-algebra, he's really only got a hope of avoiding the queer label. His father would tolerate a stupid son. He doesn't think he'd survive if his father had a queer one.)

There are a few girls he's been crushing on that ask him and that was nice. One, Alice Baker, even becomes his girlfriend for a month. His first relationship.

Soon eighth grade gives way to being a freshman and Steve, who has always been handsome and cute, catches the eye of upperclassmen now.

And Steve's not sure how it happens, but he ends up moving past first base with another girl whose name he can't remember, or possibly never knew. He doesn't remember asking her for hers when she led him into one of the bedrooms at the house this party was at while he was way too tipsy.

And then it just grows. The reputation and what people expect from him, and he doesn't want it, but he's never said no before so can he start now? Doesn't he need a reason to say no? If he doesn't have a reason, does that make him queer? He should be wanting this. What boy doesn't want this?

And maybe he does want it. But not like this.

He doesn't want to be slightly drunk at yet another party, following the first girl that grabs his wrist and pulls him after her into whatever secluded area they can find. He doesn't want to keep saying yes when he wants to say no.

The summer between freshman and sophomore year he confides in Carol. It's a risk. Carol can be cruel, quick with her words to tear you down, to spread the rumor that will ruin your life. But she's also fiercely loyal.

He tells her he's tired of kissing people he doesn't want to.

Carol is quiet for a long time, and Steve almost thinks he's made a mistake. But then she speaks.

"Okay. Let's make a plan."

And they do. Then suddenly Steve is untouchable. Carol teaches him how to see the weakness in people and call it out. How to wield his facial expressions as a weapon and a shield. How to put on the air of being the most important person everywhere you go so well that everyone else begins to believe it. How to fall back on the fact his parents are rich, gone often, and, almost most importantly, well known in the community. It gives Steve's name a weight to throw around.

More importantly, all of that culminates in people no longer asking things of him. Instead, they look to him to take the lead, they wait to be asked. It makes Steve feel in charge of his life for once.

But now.

Now, years later, having survived a spring break from Hell and averted the apocalypse, Steve watches Eddie hang off Argyle with ease, fling an arm over Jonathan's shoulder while laughing at a joke, easily pull Dustin into a headlock or wrestling match.

Easy touches that Steve should be able to do, too. A jealousy wells inside him almost as much as the unease he feels in his stomach at the mere thought of letting them know they're allowed to reach out and touch him, too. That Eddie's allowed to reach out and touch.

But then he remembers what happened when he let people have that power over him and he can't bring himself to do it.

It settles in Steve, then, the realization. When you become untouchable, you're unable to touch.

@nburkhardt @i-less-than-three-you adding my own lil bit of angst into the mix now (:

#pre steddie #my fic #cw dubious consent #internalized homophobia #steve kisses a lot of people he doesnt want to because of peer pressure and his own fear of not fitting in #it is also implied steve has sex with people when he didnt really want to #steve harrington has bad parents #touch-starved steve #also if you know the song that last line is from i am smooching the top of your head softly

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kennahjune · 4 months

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Teen Dad AU

Part 2!!

Starting the tag list with: @mugloversonly @jackiemonroe5512 @thestarslittleking @jonesen4coffee @virginlemontea @blackpanzy @littlebluejane @paintsplatteredandimperfect @astrid-nomically-steddie @maferisa-7 @phantomrose17 @child-of-cthuhlu @sofadofax @thoughtfulbreadpolice @fandomnerd103 @artemisiscursed @croatoan-like-its-hot @silenzioperso @myownworstenemyyy @feral-possums-in-the-bog @mente-sindescanso @mrslectermoriarty @y4r3luv @a-couchpotato @aknelimdoogladania @she-collects-smut

…

Thursday came in a false sense of security.

Steve woke up to the gentle sun in his face, the breeze of an open window in his hair, and his son’s chubby baby fingers wrapped around his hand.

Steve grinned sleepily at Louie and laughed when baby Louie smiled so wide back at him that his paci fell out.

Steve held Louie close while preparing a small breakfast of eggs and toast, then continued to hold him while making his bottle and setting out a few cheese puffs for him teethe on.

Steve made sure Louie ate first, helping him hold the bottle and then laughing at the pure mess he makes with the cheese puffs. Then Steve himself ate. Clean up was quick enough witch a wet rag and a speedy wipe-down.

Later on, just as Steve was thinking about preparing lunch, the front doors opened.

“Shit. Shit shit shit SHIT.” Steve angrily whispered to himself. Little Louie stared at him from where he was propped on the couch, not a thought behind his wide eyes. Though he obviously knew something was wrong with his dad.

Steve was quick to buckle Louie into his car seat, bundling him up with a blanket and giving him his bear.

“Stephan? Are you in the living room? Come grab our bags, please,” Cynthia Harrington called from down the hall.

There was no getting out of this. No way of getting Louie to the car without his parents seeing. But he’s sure they already knew of the baby, or suspected something. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln were nosy motherfuckers set on ruining Steve’s life.

Steve sighed and looked at Louie. He knelt in front of the car seat and rubbed a hand gently on his son’s face. Louie grabbed his finger and smiled around his paci.

Steve wanted to cry.

“Stephan! Your mother called you so answer her!” Richard Harrington yelled. Steve heard the wind outside pick up aggressively and cursed the mornings sunshine.

“Coming!”

Steve padded into the hallway where his parents were taking off their jackets. Cynthia and Richard were picture-perfect— or they would’ve been. If it weren’t for the pressed line of his mother’s mouth and the hard line of his father’s jaw. Steve knew what was coming before they did.

“Stephan, the bags.” Were his mothers first words to him. Not “Hi, son, how have you been?” Not “Sorry we’ve been gone for nearly 8 months.” Not “How are you feelings after that concussion from last November? We’re terribly sorry we couldn’t stop work to simply call and make sure you were ok.”

No. None of that. Instead he was demanded around like a fucking dog.

“Um. Actually, I had to talk to you both. If you don’t mind—“

“Save it. Take the bags upstairs and meet us in the living room,” Richard stated harshly.

Steve flinched. He hated himself for flinching. But they couldn’t go in the living room. Not while Louie was still in there.

“Actually, dad— it’s very important and I just really need to talk to you guys—“

“Stephan!”

Steve winced at the pitchy tone of his mother.

“Please, I promise— It’ll be worth your time, just— just give a minute, please.” He was begging now. He hated begging.

Richard had grown tired of Steve’s fumbling for words and shoved past him. Steve knocked into the wall with the harshness.

“Stephan, you will listen to your mother and take the bags upstairs and meet us—“

“Dad, wait—“

Richard stopped in the doorway to the living room, whatever insult or command he was going to throw Steve’s way dying on his tongue.

“Stephan. Why, in the Lord’s name, is there a baby’s car seat in my living room?”

His tone was calm. Steve knew better than to think he was actually anything other than furious.

“Thats— that’s what I needed to speak to you about. Please, I—“

Steve should’ve anticipated the slap.

But he didn’t. And his head snapped to the side with the force that left him seeing stars.

Steve didn’t stay long enough to listen to his dad yelling slurs or his mom crying. He simply grabbed Louie’s car seat, picked up his shoes by the door, and left.

Steve had been driving for near three hours before he pulled over. He’d circled the entirety of town before finally pulling into a small dirt path by the quarry. Belatedly he realized someone was crying.

He hurried to get out of the car, rounding to the back and sliding into the backseat to sit next to Louie’s car seat. But Louie wasn’t crying, he was sound asleep.

Steve realized he was crying.

He startled when a broken sob tore itself out of his throat. He hurried out of the car and dragged himself the few yards to the edge of the quarry.

He sat down and let the rain pelt him from all angles. His face stung. Steve knew the slap would bruise phenomenally in the morning. It’d probably affect his tips at work.

He swung his feet idly on the edge, belatedly realizing he wasn’t wearing his shoes or even socks for that matter. His heels where starting to bleed from each time he rammed them into the rocks on the edge of the cliff.

Steve doesn’t know how long he sat there in the rain. He snapped back to reality when a particularly loud burst of thunder rumbled in his gut. He went back to the car.

Louie was still sound asleep. Steve figured he himself should most likely sleep as well. He didn’t know when he’d be able to get a place for them, but he’d already been saving up.

He curled up in the back seat next to baby Louie. He didn’t bother with a blanket, and he knew he’d get a cold with his clothes still being wet, but he deemed it fine.

Steve’s sleep was fitful and restless. Filled with slurs and yelling and running from monsters that shouldn’t exist.

It was a week before he finally got a place.

Not that long, sure. But it was a week of pure dread and exhaustion and nightmares.

The trailer he was looking at was located near the edge of Forest Hills. It was two bedroom one bathroom and had a small living room (with no ceiling light) and a kitchen (that barely had any wiggle room). But it was his.

He’d been at work when he got the call— as that was where he told the landlord to call. Mason— the line cook— called him back.

“Hey Steve-o! That landlord guys on the phone!”

Steve jumped so hard he nearly spilled the waters he was carrying.

“Be right there, Mace!”

Steve was quick to get the waters to the table 7 and take their orders for the night before he rushed back. He tossed his notepad at Mason and snatched the phone.

“Hi, Mr. Gardison!” he greeted cheerily.

“Stephen, hi. So…”

And Steve was given the trailer.

He was vibrating with excitement by the end of his call. When Steve returned the phone to its holder he was picked up from the ground in a bear hug. He laughed and hugged Mason back.

“You got the place!” Mason cheered.

“I got the place!” Steve laughed.

The rest of his day went swimmingly. He would be able to officially move into the trailer on Friday— which was fine by him. Two days of waiting was nothing.

Steve was given congratulations from a few of the regulars. Mr. Jinkins gave him a good slap on the shoulder while Miss. Gladson pulled him into a hug. They tipped him an extra 5 dollars each before they left.

At the end of his Wednesday shift, Steve gave out hugs to most of his coworkers. Mason, Allya, and his boss Michelle got hugs while George and Gwen got high fives. Steve left feeling light on his feet with a to-go bag for dinner.

Thursday was filled with the lunch rush. Steve had to take his break early to check on baby Louie in the back. He felt bad turning George’s manager office into a daycare but George assured him it was fine.

“Hey honey,” Steve’s cooed at the baby in his arms. “How are you doing, huh love? You’ve been cooped up for so long I know.”

Louie gripped his baby hands into the front of Steve’s apron. He was back in the kitchens today, Allya taking his place up front waitressing.

Steve hopped around and lightly bounced Louie against his chest, humming quietly and gently.

Louie whined and continued to cry.

“I know Louie, I know. You hungry? Hang on baby.”

Steve made sure Louie was fed and burped and laid him done for a nap. He only had an hour of his shift left.

Thursday finished off normally and Steve left with his usual dinner. He drove out to the quarry and parked before sitting in the backseat with Louie to eat.

Eventually he took Louie out of the car and sat with him on the rocky ground of the quarry. Steve held Louie close in his lap, letting the baby play with his hands and fingers and babble about nothing and everything.

Steve occasionally answered with little gums of encouragement, but for the most part he let baby Louie talk to himself. He was lost in thought, daydreaming about the trailer and how they got to move in tomorrow.

Before Steve knew it Louie had fallen asleep and he himself was on the verge. He got them both settled in the backseat once more and allowed himself to drift off.

…

We’re finally, maybe, getting somewhere lol. Tag list is open to everyone still, feel free to ask for a place!! We’ll get into some of Steve’s school life in the next part hopefully 🤞

Part 3:

#stranger things #steve harrington #little louie harrington :)#teen dad steve harringon #teen dad au #i don’t remember what else I’m supposed to tag #uh #eventual steddie #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steddie #steve harrington is a damn good dad #steve harrington has bad parents #steve harrington needs a better family #steve harrington needs a hug #everyone wants to give him a hug #I’ve run out of things to tag

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shares-a-vest · 4 months

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@steddiemas Day 16: Angst-Themed (Saturday Sentence Starters)

wc: 1k | Rated: T | cw: Steve’s parents are arguing (he is overhearing it briefly but there are some descriptions of yelling), toxic family dynamics, unstable marriage, cheating

Tags: Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unstable Marriage, Toxic Family Dynamics, Cheating

“I don’t want to fight with you, Caroline,” Steve hears his father bellow from downstairs, “Not tonight.”

He snaps his comic closed and tosses it on the floor.

Steve has no idea what his parents are arguing about. Hell, they don’t even need an excuse these days, he thinks. Someone can so much as fart and it will start a goddamn screaming match.

He guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s the holidays and his parents are both off work until the beginning of the New Year. It’s snowing heavy out so they can’t go down to the Martens’ house – their best friends-come-buffer zones.

“Oh, John!” his mother chides before there is a lower muffle that he can��t quite make out.

While being hard of hearing allows him not to hear anything below a shout, the broken argument is still frustrating.

His parents might not need an excuse to fight, but he’d still like to know what it’s about. Gain intel for the inevitable coming days of being stuck in the middle.

Steve has a few guesses as to what it could be.

His mother bought a new car with her Christmas bonus finally topping up her bank account and thus justifying an indulgent and expensive purchase. His father always hates that.

Steve smirks.

If his father didn’t like that kind of independence, why did he marry a high-paid lawyer?

But, the more likely scenario considering his father’s apparent insistence he ‘doesn’t want to fight’ is that he is cheating again.

Cindy, his secretary, or someone new – take your pick.

The telltale signs have been there for a month or two. A renewed cheery attitude, longer office hours, a fresh haircut and new clothes.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, it might be a little bit of a motivator behind his mother’s car purchase too –

“ – Cindy!” his mother shrieks.

Yep, there it is.

Steve rolls off the bed, planting his feet on the carpet right by his shoes.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, scooping up his keys and wallet from the nightstand.

He’s just about halfway to Forest Hills, driving at a snail’s pace because he can’t see for snow, when he begins to regret his decision to leave the house.

Maybe he shouldn’t just barge in on the Munsons unannounced. Like sure, his friendship with Eddie is… teetering on not being entirely platonic. But this might be too much.

He always thought it was too much when he’d walk down to stay at Carol Perkins’ house for an impromptu sleepover. And there was always this awkward, knowing going on with the Wheeler’s when he was dating Nancy and spending a lot of time just hanging about.

Lingering for too long in the kitchen chatting to Karen or watching a game with Ted until the guy started snoring too loud to hear the commentators.

It was all there but largely unspoken.

Only Robin knows the details. And even then, he’s sure that her father’s friendliness towards him was partly due to his daughter telling him all about the trouble at the ‘ol Harrington house. He doesn’t blame his best friend for likely doing so. And he doesn’t consider it blabbing, either. Robin’s parents – her whole family – are amazing.

But some of his parent’s shit is stupid at best, hard to take at worst.

And he is scared to let Eddie in on it.

It’s too much.

He’s too much.

Being a Harrington is too much.

Wayne answers the door with a cup of cocoa that seems glued to his left hand in winter.

“Steve,” he says, voice gruff as ever despite a warm smile.

“Hi,” he replies, looking down at his snow-covered boots, “Eddie in?”

Of course, he’s in, his van is parked outside.

Steve can feel the warmth from inside the trailer. See the twinkle of lights from the Munson’s small, but heavily-decorated, Christmas tree. The smell of cocoa overpowering the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

“Eddie!” Wayne calls over his shoulder, “Steve’s here.”

In a flash, Eddie runs to the front door and practically bumps into his uncle.

“Come in!” he insists, wide-eyed as he looks past his shoulder at the falling snow.

And before Steve can even step in, Eddie is pulling him by his parka sleeve. He only just manages to scrape off his boots on the ‘Home Sweet Home’ adorned welcome mat.

“What some cocoa?” Eddie offers, eliciting a grumble from Wayne.

“I asked if you wanted some,” he chides.

“But Steve might want some,” Eddie grins.

“How about I heat up a pot now, and whoever wants some’s got it?” Wayne suggests, pursing his lips at Eddie and moving to the stove before his nephew can make any more requests.

“Follow me,” Eddie says, grabbing his hand, “I made cookies.”

He wiggles his brows and begins leading Steve to the kitchen.

As he is pulled along, Steve tries not to think about the fact that they are holding hands. Or how he wishes his fifteen-minute-ago Self had thought to bring an overnight bag and allowed himself to assume the Munsons would allow him to stay the night.

But it might be even harder to stop himself from squeezing his friend’s hand and lacing his fingers with Eddie’s.

Eddie lets go of his hand to gesture to the tray of Christmas-themed shapes, all looking a little too dark for gingerbread as they rest on the kitchen island.

“Pick one, Big Boy,” Eddie beams.

Steve reaches for a reindeer, flexing his fingers as he goes and commits the feeling of Eddie’s rings to memory.

“No!” Eddie shrieks, lightly smacking his hand enough that he drops it, leaving the cookie to snap in half as it falls back onto the tray, “His antlers are broken.”

“Christ, boy!” Wayne curses, stirring the pot on the stovetop.

Okay, a tree then…

“The star is missing!”

A bell?

“That was already snapped in half when I got them out of the oven”, Eddie admits with a tight-lipped smile.

Steve places his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. To him, they all look at least a little crumbly – some he would even describe as lightly charred.

“How about you pick one for me then, Betty Crocker?” he chuckles.

Eddie giggles, twirling a lock of his hair as he carefully considers the tray of mostly broken, dry cookies.

He watches Eddie for a long enough time that Wayne pushes a mug into his hand, the warmth of Eddie’s hand remaining in place due to the heat of the cocoa. It’s a Chicago Cubs mug, one that he finds himself holding at some point each time he is here as if Wayne considers it Steve’s own.

He smiles for the first time in three days.

#i have a few days i've missed and fell behind finishing so i might go back and post them later #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington has bad parents #steve harrington angst #steddiemas #wayne munson #steddie #steddie fic #lily writes a fic #harrington family TM

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stevebabey · 3 months

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steve harrington but it's that jeff winger moment from community. if u have seen community, u will know... my first stobin-centric piece <3 tw for parental neglect and a prior act of self-harm. this is absolutely on the steve harrington has bad parents train <3

“Steven, this is ridiculous.”

Robin freezes in place. Her hand hovers over the remote she's just placed back down, her limbs locking up one by one at the sound of the voice at the door.

It is not a familiar voice. She knows who it is all the same.

She fights not to move, knowing the couch springs, old and rusted, threaten to reveal her hiding place, even if it is her house. Robin is very much allowed to be here. Expected, even.

But Steve? Steve is not.

It’s why there’s one Christine Harrington on the dingy porch steps.

It’s an unwelcome surprise — even after all the fuss of the 4th of July, a thousand police sirens, endless NDAs, and too much blood on his uniform, Steve’s parents hadn’t shown.

Out of town, Steve had said, his bashed in face making it impossible to read his expression. His eyes were haunted and misty but Robin couldn’t tell if it was from the horror of the night or… a loneliness far older.

So Robin had done the fussing. Had dragged him home with her, shooed away her rightfully nosy parents, and mended him up on her bathroom counter.

Steve had been silent, a little wide-eyed as she worked on each cut, each bruise — but with her gentle touch, he had been helpless to do anything but melt beneath it.

He’d called her Robbie for the first time that night. They’d fallen asleep with their hands intertwined, her arm hanging off the bed to reach out to him on her bedroom floor.

Robin still hasn’t met Steve’s parents, even though it’s been more than a couple months since that night.

She’s been to his house countless times too. She knows where the spare key is, if she ever loses her own copy, that is. Knows which stair squeaks on the way up to the second floor and how the lock on the downstairs bathroom gets jammed too easily.

She’s eaten the best grilled cheese of her life in their kitchen, sitting on the counter.

She’s laughed so hard she’s cried on their couch, getting the throw pillows wet with her happy tears.

She’s still never met Steve’s parents. Til right now.

Christine Harrington has her arms wrapped tight around her frame and Robin has no doubt that on her face is a frown that could make babies cry.

She can’t see her face though. Can only just see a glimpse of her tense body from where she sits. Steve blocks part of her view, his own tense frame in the doorway.

He’d answered the door instead of Robin only because he had the foresight to glance at the front window after the first rap at the door. It was late. Robin’s parents certainly wouldn’t knock at their own home and neither of them were expecting visitors.

The expensive car in the drive, a sore thumb along Robin’s street, had given away the identity of just who was knocking so late in the evening. So, Steve had opened it.

“Mom—”

“I mean utterly ridiculous.” Steve gets cut off without second thought, Christine continuing on as if she hasn’t heard him at all.

“Did you expect us to spend all evening chasing you around? Figuring out where you were tonight from the Carlton’s across the road?”

She’s got this snippy tone that Robin’s heard a thousand times from teachers. Patronising. Too cold for it to seem like a genuinely concerned parent.

“The Carlton’s?” Steve echoes, a bit meek. His shoulders have rolled forward, sinking down a bit and Robin can see his tight grip on the door. Still, she stays frozen, rooted to the couch.

“Yes, Steven.” Christine says his full name again, all bite. “Imagine the shame your father and I felt hearing that. Hearing who you had been associating with.”

“Don’t say that.” Steve grits out immediately, anger bleeding into his tone.

The muscles in his back ripple as he forces his shoulders back, as if he had remembered how to stand up straight at the mention of his friend.

Robin aches; at the reminder of the stark differences of their upbringings and at Steve’s unquestionable loyalty. She finally unfreezes, sitting up a little straighter and leaning forward more— ready to spring up from her seat.

She’s not sure what for exactly. She sorta really wants to go slam the door on Steve’s mom’s face and go back to being bundled up on the couch with him. The urge is strong enough to make her fingers twitch.

“Why are you here, Mom?”

There’s a strain to Steve’s question, even though he doesn’t falter in appearance. Robin can’t see his face either though. She hopes it’s got the bitchiest expression Steve can muster.

“Don’t be smart, Steven.” Christine reprimands coldly. “I know that we may have taken a larger absence than intended but that’s not any excuse to parade yourself around with the strays of this town.”

Strays. Robin feels the word pelt into her and burn into her skin, sinking all the way down. It feels like cold water has tipped down the back of her neck. An unwelcome pit forms in her stomach.

She had known, of course, the reputation of a family like the Harrington's. She hadn’t quite known the extent they would go to protect it. Policing your child's friends over a matter of image is absurd.

Somehow, Robin can see how Steve grows even tenser at his mom’s words— hackles raising like that on a dog. His knuckles turn white. But before he speaks, Christine is barreling on like she hasn’t just slandered every one of Steve’s new friends.

“And to leave the house in such a state?”

Robin hears her sigh heavily, as though this really is the biggest problem in her life — which she can’t fathom in the slightest.

There was nothing wrong with Steve’s house. No mess beyond the usual evidence that someone, you know, lived there.

“Mom, I—” Steve starts again.

“Well, I’m sure you have your reasons. You always do.” She says it so pointedly, like Steve was known for peddling lies to weasel his way out of trouble.

It’s so un-Steve it makes Robin blink hard, wondering if she had heard right.

Steve was honest. He owned his mistakes and he took things on the chin. It was something she had liked most about him in the beginning.

Back when it was all snark and Robin told herself she was never going to be his friend, in this universe or anything other. That even then, reluctant co-worker and nothing more, Steve was honest and decent to her always.

“Now, come on now.” Christine Harrington huffs out her demand. “Your father is waiting in the car and there no use winding him up more than you already have.”

Robin’s stomach turns at her words. It had been a topic of discussion between them, one night weeks ago, lips loosened by the dark. I feel like a dog to them, Steve had admitted quietly, his breath against her pillow and his warmth under her sheets. Like they just leave alone most of the time but expect me to perk up and come running the moment they call. I hate it.

“I’m not coming with you.”

The words stammer on their way out like he had forced them out— and Robin wants to sing she’s so proud of her best friend.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not coming with you.” Steve repeats himself, the words a little firmer this time. “I’m… I’m spending the night here, with my friend Robin.”

He trails off, the words weaker, losing steam. Robin rises to her feet, the tell-tale squeak of the couch springs letting Steve know she was still here. Still right behind him.

It makes him stand a little straighter.

“I— I’ll come home in the morning.”

Christine Harrington makes a little scoffing noise, a high pitched faux laugh as if Steve’s said something amusing.

“Tell me when did I raise such an ungrateful brat?” She muses meanly and Robin doesn’t miss the way Steve flinches lightly. “We give you free rein of the house, apt time by yourself, and yet when we request you to spend a single evening with us—”

“You’re not asking, you’re demanding.” Steve cuts in, his voice more heated now.

“Oh hush, Steven. You act as if we’re so awful.”

It’s all dismissal. Everything, every word, a dismissal.

“I just can’t win with you, can I?” Christine sighs again, disappointment dripping from the sound. “Either we’re not here enough or we’re here but you can’t find time to have dinner with your family. Which is it, Steven?”

In the doorway, Steve begins to bristle. Robin really, really wants to slam the door now — if only to stop this conversation that seems to keep cutting deeper and deeper into her best friend.

She steps closer to him, moving as silently as she can, and makes sure to stay out of sight as she places a hand gently on the small of his back.

He’s shaking, she realises.

Her heart twists painfully in her chest.

Then, deathly calm, Steve says, “Did you know in 7th grade, I lied and I told everyone in my class that I got appendicitis?”

Robin blinks at the change in subject, the strangeness of Steve’s comment. She does remember that, vaguely. A boy in the year above— it had been a wildfire rumour that had turned out to be true.

Or so she thought. Staring hard at the planes of Steve’s back, the pit in her stomach yawns with an anticipation of devastation. Her hand on his back curls up a bit.

“You and Dad were gone for the whole month to Washington. It was the first time you had ever gone for that long and you didn’t even tell me until the day before you left.”

“Steven—”

“I just wanted someone to worry about me.” He steamrolls on, tone too casual for the story he was telling. “And it worked."

A beat.

"But then Cassie Lange asked about the scar.”

Robin’s hand on Steve's back twists up tighter. She feels like she knows what’s coming— but wishes it to be not true.

She doesn’t want to think of Steve, little twelve year old Steve, doing all that he can for a scrap of attention he was supposed to be getting from his parents.

“And rather than admit I’d lied…” The words come out too tight. “I went and found your sewing scissors and I made one.”

There’s this icy bite to Steve’s voice, his shoulders tensed back up. Christine still hasn’t said anything.

“I hurt like a bitch but it was worth it. I got a card from every single person in my class.”

“You wanna see the scar?” He asks— then he’s moving, his hand rucking up his sweater and shirt and exposing the skin of his stomach. Christine makes a noise like a muffled gasp. Robin feels a bit sick. Steve drops his shirt.

“And I kept all of those cards I got —all 17 of them stashed them under my bed in a box that I still have til this day.” He exhales through his nose. “Because it was proof that, at some point, somebody actually gave a shit about me. Because you didn’t. You didn’t then and you don’t get to now.”

His words hang in the air. There’s a long stretch of silence where Steve stares down the woman on the porch— someone closer to a stranger than a friend.

“So, I will see you at home, tomorrow.”

And then he slams the door to Robin’s house shut with a finality that shakes the air. Robin tenses up at the loud noise. Steve doesn't move, just stays staring at the closed door.

Behind them both, one of the noisy pipes in the house makes a loud noise. It sounds worse than usual as it breaks the silence.

Outside, Robin hears the click of heels on the pavement as they quieten, moving further away.

The pit in her stomach tightens immeasurably, a faint bile taste in her mouth. She finally remembers to smooth out her hand, pressing it flat against Steven’s back— another reminder that she was there.

If he wanted to talk or he didn’t, she was there.

Suddenly Steve sighs, an exhale so large that he shrinks down a couple inches, his shoulders dropping. It sounds exhausted.

He finally turns away from the door, to Robin, and she can only hope her face conveys every ounce of love, of support, she feels within her chest.

“Steve…” She breathes softly.

He wasn’t crying but just the sound of his name, spoken so delicately, seems to inspire tears. Robin catches the tremble of his lip and moves without thought— throwing both her arms around his neck and wrestling him into a hug.

Steve goes easy, his arms snaking around her middle and holding her back so tightly it nearly makes her squeak. She doesn’t though— just lets him bury his face in her neck, taking these big shuddering breaths, these half-formed sobs that break her heart clean in half.

She doesn’t know how long they stand there. Car engines drone as they pass by the street. The streetlights seem to get brighter. Steve presses himself so close to her, as close as he can, and Robin hugs back just as tight. She gives him all the time he needs.

She wonders if there’s an indent of him on her when he finally pulls back — a Steve Harrington shaped outline imprinted on her soul. It feels like there is.

If she could trace it, she thinks, it would be whatever shape love takes.

“Thanks Robbie.” He croaks out. He’s started scrubbing furiously at his face and she can see the wet sheen of tears as he wipes them away.

Robin doesn’t move far, just unwinds her arms a bit and lets them fall back to her sides. There’s an ache between her brows from how long she’s been frowning in concern. Steve looks more disheveled than usual, his usually perfect hair looking flatter — but he looks lighter too, somehow.

“No need to thank me, dingus.” She says, voice soft. She faux punches his chest and then regrets it when his lips don’t even twitch upward. It’s weird to see Steve all undone.

Robin thinks back to that conversation and the callousness of Steve’s mom. Her uncaring tone, the use of his full name like an insult.

She thinks of what Steve had said.

“I’m sorry you felt—” The words get stuck in her throat which grows thicker as she thinks about it. About a self-made scar on Steve’s abdomen, made by a twelve year old boy who just wanted someone to worry.

“—That you felt like you had to do something like that to yourself. I’m sorry no one noticed what you really needed.”

Steve nods slowly, his eyes glazed with a far away look as he stares somewhere over Robin’s shoulder. He gives this little shrug, a little huff through his nose.

“It’s okay.” He says, voice a bit distant. “I mean, it’s not but… even if I hadn’t meant to tell you, I’m glad someone knows now.”

It takes another second before he finally seems to shake himself from his thoughts, turning to properly look at Robin. His eyes are red-rimmed and the tip of his nose is pink. Tell tale signs of tears.

“I’ve never told anyone that before.”

Robin swallows thickly and it takes effort to choke down the urge to cry.

“Well,” She starts. It comes out too high pitched and tight and she clears her throat. “Thank you for telling me.

Some kind of smile plays on Steve’s lips, as if he can tell that she’s fighting off her sniffling and it’s sorta funny to him. It is, a little.

Because instead of being embarrassed or feeling pitied, he feels… delightfully surprised to have her care so much. To be so upset on his behalf.

“Oh, c’mon Robbie,” He gives her that same faux-punch in the shoulder she did earlier and it actually succeeds in making her lips pull up at the edges. “None of that.”

“You’re such a dingus.” Robin says. It comes out a bit wobbly still. Sue her— she doesn’t have Steve’s insane ability to bounce from one emotion to another in a single second.

Steve grins. He wanders back to the couch and flops down onto it. Robin follows and when she sits down, it’s a fraction closer to him this time. He gives one last scrub of his face, wiping the last of his tears away.

She nudges him with her thigh. She has to check just one more time.

“You alright?”

Steve smiles, crooked in that way that lets her know it’s completely sincere. He reaches forward and presses unmute on the remote, the film they’re watching starting up again with a buzz.

Steve presses his thigh back against Robin’s and in the dim lighting of her living room, his eyes glitter with an emotion that threatens to make her want to cry once more.

“Course.” He says. “I got someone checking up on me now,”

Another pointed nudge of his thigh against hers. “I’m better than ever.”

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jewishrat420 · 27 days

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steve who never learned how to love right.

who knows his mother’s fear of his father the way he knows his father’s right hook in the curve of his hand and the half-moon scars in his palm.

steve who knows how to love the same way he knows cold bath water with no bubbles, as a necessity rather than a luxury. as something he should never bother trying to earn because he was born unworthy.

steve who meets eddie and doesn’t know what to do with the immediate and intense outpouring of love and devotion, who has never been wanted or sought out in such a visceral way. who doesn’t know how to find a way to make it fit in his body when there’s barely enough room within his ribcage for his own heart, aching and perpetually empty.

steve who’d rather leave eddie snapped in two like a fallen tree branch than be the foot that steps on it. who knows it’ll only hurt worse the longer he lets it go on, because he might have his mother’s eyes but it was his own that saw them busted and blue from the calloused knuckles of the hand that looks like his. it’s his own fingers that snap and break as he curls them into his skin, but his fist is unmistakably his father’s.

steve who wouldn’t know the taste of love if it was in the blood he licked from his own palms. if it was in the marrow, deep and pulsing, of the beating thing inside his chest.

original post

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie headcanon #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington character study #steve harrington has bad parents #steve harrington and his big bad feelings #steve harrington and the trials and tribulations of love #angst #steddie angst #steve harrington angst

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finntheehumaneater · 3 months

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I owe you a black eye and two kisses (pt 13)

(part one) (part fourteen)

ao3 | playlist | pinboard

everybody check out the Pinboard and playlist right now. Because I said so. :D

under the cut for notes and taglist which is open

as always, reblogs and comments make my day 🩵

Steve and Eddie had been dating for two weeks. Those two weeks had been the best (and weirdest) two weeks of his life. In between driving Dustin and Lucas to sports games and the arcade—since Lucas was now taking up basketball, which made Steve happy—and hanging out with Robin and Kendall, it was just him and Eddie.

Steve didn’t know how to feel about this.

He had never dated a guy before.

Eddie had told him that it was okay if this all felt new and strange, and that he wouldn’t make Steve do anything he didn’t want to do. But he had also made Steve promise to be honest with him. If he liked something and wanted to do more of it, he just had to ask. If he didn’t like something and wanted to stop, he just had to say so. Steve had said he would be honest, and that was the first lie he told in those two weeks.

He didn’t mean to lie to Eddie, but he felt like he would be asking too much if they did what he wanted to do. The last thing he wanted was to be too needy. All the girls he had dated had told him that he was clingy—and that it was cute, but it was more like little kid cute, and he should try and stop. He didn’t want Eddie to think he was clingy.

So when Eddie asked, everything got met with a quiet “it’s fine”

The movie Eddie picked was fine, even though Steve hated it.

The music Eddie put on in the car was fine, even if it gave Steve a headache.

When they kissed even though Steve didn’t really feel like it, it was fine.

The first time they had sex together was fine, even though Steve was so fucking tired that night.

And he didn’t blame Eddie for any of it—he wouldn’t blame Eddie for it—because it wasn’t Eddie’s fault, it was Steve’s fault. He wasn’t supposed to ask for things. He was supposed to sit there and just take what he was given—just be good and quiet so that maybe this relationship would last more than a month.

It was what his parents did. His mom sat quietly while his dad talked—she did what he wanted her to do, and in turn, they stayed married. That was how relationships worked, and Eddie probably knew that. He was probably only asking and checking in just to be polite. His dad did that to his mom, but it was always a second thought.

So there he was, curled into Eddie’s side with his face pressed against the skin that was shown from where Eddie’s t-shirt was riding up. It was some shitty horror movie that they were watching, but there was so much blood and screaming and Steve was seconds away from losing it—the only thing keeping him from drifting away and sobbing, because he remembered blood and screaming, was Eddie’s hand petting through his hair, slowly and gently.

His dad never did that to his mom.

“Stevie, baby?”

“Hm?”

“You doin’ alright?”

Steve nodded, whispered, “s’fine, Eds,” and trailed his fingers over the skin on Eddie’s stomach. There was a small scar there, one that ran down to his hip down to his inner thigh, and Steve wanted to kiss along it like he had a few days ago. To just kiss and have it lead to nothing else.

“You sure?” Eddie whispered back, his fingers tugging gently through the hair at the back of Steve’s neck, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of his head. Steve nodded again, and he felt bad for interrupting with that when Eddie continued, “because you’ve been hiding this whole time, pretty boy. You wanna switch the movie?”

Steve avoided the second question, just tracing his finger along the scar until it disappeared underneath the waistband of Eddie’s jeans. He shakes his head. “No.”

“Gotta be honest, baby, remember?” Eddie says quietly, and his hand slips from Steve’s hair. He can’t tell if it’s annoyance or concern in Eddie’s voice, but either one makes Steve feel sick creep under his skin and into his bones. He wants to claw the feeling out like some kind of animal—never wants to fucking feel it again, but he knows that’s impossible. It’s guilt, that’s what the sick is. It’s guilt, and he’s going to have to live with it until the day that the fucking dies. “I know you’re upset, I’m giving you an out. Just say yes, hun.”

“I’m not upset,” Steve grits out through his teeth, pulling away slightly and curling his fingers into the fabric is Eddie’s t-shirt to pull it down over his stomach, smoothing over the folds more than he has to—almost like petting, now—because he needs to do something with his hands. He needs to keep busy and focus on something so that he doesn’t have to look Eddie in the eyes. Because if he did, all the walls that he had spent so long to build, worked so goddamn hard on, would come falling right now. Nothing but dust, showing him the crumpled and broken, bleeding and exhausted form of what Steve Harrington really was.

What he was when no one was looking.

“You’re crying, Steve,” Eddie whispered, and Steve didn’t look up, just pinching and rolling the fabric between his fabrics.

There was blood on him. On the walls, on the floor, in his hair. And only he could see it. It was on Robin, too. It was on both of them. And he was screaming but Eddie couldn’t hear it. She was screaming and she pretended like she wasn’t.

He ignored the noise he sounded out, a kind of sob caught on a whimper as his breath hitched. He moved his hands to scrub them together. Like he was trying to get the blood off. It stayed stained to his skin. “M’not crying—“

“Steve,” Eddie said a bit more firmly, and Steve nearly flinched, his body going rigid as he made the noise again. He felt Eddie’s hands come up to cup his cheeks— soft skin on his, the tip of Eddie’s fingers rough from playing his guitar, which Steve hadn’t seen him do it, only heard about it—and he tried to move Steve’s face up to look at him, but Steve moved his hands off, pulling away.

“I’m fine,” Steve muttered, scrubbing at his eyes hard until he could tell that the skin was red and agitated. Eddie caught his wrist and tugged it away, a touch too rough but still gentle.

“I’m changing the movie.”

Steve caught Eddie’s arm as he went to get up. He was upset. He was probably mad at Steve. Steve had fucked this up. Shit. “Eddie, stop, it’s fine—“

Eddie yanked his arm back, looking Steve over with something more than worry in his eyes, but Steve didn’t have a word for it. Couldn’t put a name to it even if he tried. “Why are you making such a big deal out of it? It’s fine if you don’t want to watch it, but you have to tell me.”

Steve shook his head, taking Eddie’s hand and trying to urge him to come and sit back down. “Eds, don’t change the movie. I-I’m sorry, I want to watch it, I really do—“

“Hey hey hey, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered, kneeling down in front of Steve as Steve sobbed again, shaking his head even though he didn’t know what he was saying no to anymore. “To be honest, I was getting kind of bored of the movie anyways.”

“Please don’t change it,” Steve whispered, sounding desperate, pleading, because now the blood was running down his forehead and getting all over Eddie’s hands. Eddie didn’t seem to care. Couldn’t see it. Couldn’t feel it. But Steve cared. “You were—you were laughing before, I know you want to watch it.”

There was another scream from the television, the sound of a thud and something slick, and Steve flinched away, letting Eddie tug him forewarn until his face was pressed into Eddie’s shoulder. His fingers went to the bottom of Eddie’s shirt, slipping under so he could rub his thumb over the scar as he tried to stay still and be calm while Eddie shushed him and rocked him like he was some kind of fucking baby. It made him feel the sick again, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Just breathe, Stevie. M’gonna turn it off in a second, but just breathe for me. All the way in.” Eddie got up to take out the tape. He put it back in his box, and Steve’s body ached at the lack of contact, sinking into the couch.

Eddie put on something else—something quieter and less violent. Something made the blood run off of Steve and onto the carpet. Something that made the screaming in Steve’s head stop as Eddie moved him to lay his head in his lap, shoulder to his thigh and his hand around his waist. He faced away from the television. He didn’t want to watch this, either. He just wanted to lay still.

He pressed a kiss to the scar. Maybe he’d ask Eddie how he got it tomorrow when he got back from school.

He closed his eyes and tried to block out the noise of people talking.

He already felt bad enough for making Eddie switch the movie.

He wasn’t going to ask him to turn this one off, too.

He was supposed to sit and be good. To listen and take what he was given.

So that’s what he did.

Steve has some ✨trauma✨ that he needs to work out…gods…

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fandomcentralsposts · 5 months

Text

Steve hasn't celebrated Christmas properly for many years because his parents are never home, and if they do show, it'll be a few days before, and they don't usually stay for new years. Because of this, Steve no longer has the urge to put up decorations. He doesn't bother with Christmas dinners or ugly sweaters or any usual traditions. But deep down, he loves Christmas. The lights, the trees, music, and snow are something a part of him still looks forward to every year he just knows he'll probably be spending it alone. Until he dates Nancy and the Wheelers, let him join them for Christmas and the years after Dustin and his mother would welcome him, although at times he felt like he was imposing he felt grateful he also made sure he bought presents for everyone all the kids and Nancy, Johnathan and eventually Robin he would also help cook for whoever he was staying with he wanted to make sure he was the perfect house guest so he would be invited back next year.

When he and Eddie started dating, Steve half expected he would be invited over at Christmas. Their relationship was going strong they were attached at the hip, and Wayne was very tolerant of them, and he seemed to like him, so he was hoping it would be offered. Except it wasn't November came and left, then it was December 1st, then 4th, then 8th, then 16th, and Eddie hadn't said anything. Which was fine. Christmas is a family thing, after all, and they had been dating for only 4 months. However, Robin and her family were going out of town this year, and Dustin and his mother were hosting his Aunt and Grandma and Steve didn't want to take up anymore space but he couldn't help but feel a tiny pang of rejection and grimacing at the idea of spending Christmas alone in his quiet, dark house.

On the 23rd of December, Steve was sitting in his room. Robin had already left, and family video had closed for the holidays, and Steve figured he shouldn't bother Eddie since it was so close to Christmas. He tried to distract himself by reading a book, wrapping presents he would give out on boxing day, but there was only so much he could do before his mind drifted back, too, his depressing reality. Just as Steve thought about pulling back the covers and spending the next 2 days in bed, the doorbell rang. He went downstairs and opened the door to reveal his boyfriend smiling widely at him.

"Eddie! Hi, I didn't know you were coming over, " Steve said, letting him in.

"Yeah, I wanted to surprise you, baby," Eddie said, stepping through the front door and kissing Steve on the cheek. "I have your christmas present"

Steve glanced at the poorly wrapped box Eddie was gripping with excitement.

"Oh Ed's you didn't have to-"

"Shhh, of course I had too it's Christmas, and you're my boyfriend now where is your tree?" Eddie said, venturing into the living room

"Um..." Steve trailed off suddenly embarrassed by the lack of decoration.

"Wow, you've left decorating really late are you waiting for your parents or something?"

"T-they're not coming"

"What?"

"They're not coming back for Christmas," Steve stated

"Oh my god baby, I'm so sorry," Eddie said, placing his gift on the coffee table and giving his boyfriend a hug

"It's alright Eddie really" Steve chuckled "They haven't spent Christmas with me in years so-"

"Years?!" Eddie said, eyes widening. "So you've been by yourself every year?"

"No, Dustin and Robin have invited me over, but neither of them could this year"

"Why didn't you ask me?" Eddie said sounding a little heartbroken

"I don't know a part of me thought you might ask first and then I thought Christmas is a family thing so you probably want to be with Wayne only"

"Stevie, you are my family too. I love you," Eddie said sincerely.

Steve couldn't stop the tears from welling in his eyes the way Eddie spoke so gently and rested his palm on Steve's cheek.

"I'm sorry." Was all Steve could manage not exactly sure what he was apologising for. Eddie shushed him and cleared his throat.

"Steve Harrington," Eddie started. "Would you please make me the happiest man alive and join me and my uncle for Christmas?"

"Yes," Steve said, laughing at the end.

Eddie and Steve didn't waste a second gathering some of Steve's things, the presents he wrapped, and drove back to the trailer park. Wayne was more than happy to have Steve over for Christmas, especially since he had an extra pair of hands in the kitchen. Eddie and Steve cuddled up on the couch that evening, their mugs of hot chocolate cooling on the coffee table. Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve's forehead.

"Merry Christmas, Stevie"

"Merry Christmas, Ed's"

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #stranger things fanfiction #christmas #steve harrington needs a hug #steve harrington has bad parents #eddie munson is a sweetheart #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #wayne munson #short and sweet #fluff

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atimeofyourlife · 5 months

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A family Thanksgiving

This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents

The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.

"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.

"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.

"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.

"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."

Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.

When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.

"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"

"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."

"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.

"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.

Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.

"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.

"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.

"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.

After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.

"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.

"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.

"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.

"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."

"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.

"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."

"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"

"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."

"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.

"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.

"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.

"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.

"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.

"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."

Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.

"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."

"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.

"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."

"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.

"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."

Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.

Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.

"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.

"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.

Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.

"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."

Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.

"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."

"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."

"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.

"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"

"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."

"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"

"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."

"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."

"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.

"But, mother-" His father started.

"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."

"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."

"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."

"Mother,"

"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."

Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.

"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.

"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."

"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."

"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."

"Grandma." Steve protested.

"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.

Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.

"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"

"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."

"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"

"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."

"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."

"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington has bad parents #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #atimeofyourwrites

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angeldreamsoffanfic · 11 months

Text

“So how did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Y’know, how did you know.”

“Dingus, I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me here, the Russians did a number on how many of my braincells are actually working.”

“How did you know that you liked girls?”

Robin Buckley immediately pushed herself up so she was resting on her elbows, head tilted to catch Steve Harrington’s eyes in the low light of their hospital room.

They weren’t originally even going to go to the hospital, if Robin was being honest. They had just wanted to slip away back to their respective homes, but then Melissa and Richard Buckley caught wind that Robin was hurt. Then the both of them realized that Steve’s parents (if Robin has to use that term to describe them) had less than zero intention of sending anyone to pick up Steve.

Then EMS made the light suggestion of both of them probably needing to go to Hawkins General Hospital… and well, while Melissa and Richard did tend to lead toward more natural remedies… one couldn’t fix a concussion or a drugging with an unknown substance with essential oils and hope.

“Robbie? Did you OD over there?” Steve had himself up on his elbows, easily mimicking Robin. That’s the thing that makes the inside of Robin ache, that he’s so like her. She knows that she’s an only child, knows that, but sometimes Steve’ll just… do something and it makes her question it. Makes her wonder how she spent so long without him, without another brain and two legs and arms and so much hair. “Robbie?”

“No, I am still alive.” Robin slowly spoke, before she let out a soft sigh. “Why do you ask?”

“Like-” Steve huffed as he shook his head from side to side, before he used the one hand that was free from the pulse monitor and saline drip to card through his hair. It’s sleep ruffled, and if he uses product (Robin is sure he does), it’s for sure gone. Steve looks up though, and his eyes are so earnest that it causes something to hurt inside of Robin. “never mind just ignore- fuck - just ignore me.”

“I couldn’t ignore you if I tried, you idiot.” Robin let out a huff, and she winced as the PICC line in her arm shifted as tilted to be able to fully face Steve on her side. “But I just, dingus, this is out of left field for even you.”

“How so?”

“Did you even know that, that people like me even existed until a couple of hours ago?” Robin kept her voice soft, especially as Steve huffed out an indignant sounding sigh. Robin sighs though, and then she cards her own hand through her hair, and forges onward. “I think I’ve just… always known.”

“Always?”

“Yeah like-” Robin shrugged, a careful movement of her shoulders. “When I was like, eight? My uh, parents sent me to this camp thing- like summer camp kind of like what Dustin went to? But with, y’know, with the swimming and archery and dude I was fucking awful at it.” Steve let out a soft and watery laugh at Robin’s rambling, and that gave Robin enough power to continue. “But we uh, had these like songs we had to learn? And there was this uh, girl counselor there that had to teach me because you know, that was her job.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and uh. She couldn’t have been older than I am now but man…” Robin let out a slow whistle, and allowed herself to fully melt into the hospital cot she’s laid up on. “All I could think was that I just wanted to be with her. Like not even kissing because I thought kissing was gross then, still do now kinda but anyway- I wanted to like, hold her hand and shit. Do the cheesy stuff I’d seen in the movies, y’know?”

Steve huffed out his own laugh, and he tilted his head to lean against his pillows instead of facing Robin. Robin watched though, quiet for once, as Steve swallowed once and then twice- before he cleared his throat.

“I knew it existed before you.”

“What?”

“It.”

“Dingus-”

“Girls liking girls.” Steve’s voice is barely above a whisper, even as Robin can hear him gulp in a lungful of air. “And boys liking boys.”

“You did?” Robin kept her voice quiet, gentle, as coaxing as she could- especially when she could see Steve’s throat bob. “Dingus?”

“I…” Steve doesn’t continue, and that’s enough.

Enough to Robin that she pushed herself up, and ignored the pain that ricocheted down her spine like needles. Ignored Steve’s hurried ‘what are-’, as she stumbled out of her hospital bed and right to Steve’s. She made sure to drag her IV pole and the monitor with her, situating it as best as she could next to Steve’s. Robin huffed quietly as the pain trickled down her spine, and she couldn’t help but smile as Steve curled his hand carefully around her wrist and tugged.

Robin got comfortable, let Steve fret over her as best as he could, his fingers only ever-so slightly trembling as he made sure that the line in her arm wasn’t kinked up. They were pressed close, side to side and hip to hip, and Robin tilted her head down until it was rested on Steve’s shoulder.

“Wanna keep going, Stevie?”

“No.”

“But?”

“I…” Steve huffed again, a small indignant noise that Robin mimicked.

They sat like that then, just the two of them for a moment, before Steve continued slowly.

“I’ve never, told anyone this- like I’ve told Tommy H. so much shit about me - but this is… Robin this is different.” Steve speaks in a hurried and stilted way, like he’s stringing together bits and pieces of sentences, and it shouldn’t work.

But it does because he’s Steve and she’s Robin.

And truthfully, Robin likes that. That they’re Steve and Robin. SteveandRobin. RobinandSteve. Likes that the two of them are so in tune that even her own mother didn’t want to separate them.

That had to mean something in the end, didn’t it?

“Tell me, whatever… whenever.” Robin murmured as she turned her head so she could press a soft kiss to Steve’s shoulder. The hospital gown is thin enough she can feel the heat of his skin from up under it, and that’s grounding. Grounding even as Steve drew in a shaky breath, audibly swallowing again. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

“I didn’t uh, notice Tammy in Ms. Click’s class or uh, you for a reason.” Steve slowly spoke, eyes wet, and Robin can hear his sniffle as he tried to reign his emotions back. “Ms. Click made him sit uh, right by her desk at the front of the room.”

And oh.

Oh.

If that doesn’t immediately settle something that just usually writhes around in Robin’s chest.

“Him?” Robin is gentle, gentler than she thinks she’s ever been.

“Uh, yeah… Eddie Munson?” Steve huffed out an almost dry laugh, the only thing that he does that ever remotely reminds her of his time as his high school “King Steve” persona. “He uh, got this bat tattoo right before that year’s Thanksgiving break and all I could do was just… gawk at him.”

“And then what?” Robin knew she was pushing, searching for information, but she can’t help it. Not when Steve is right next to her, hip to hip and thigh to thigh. Not when he’s like her. In all the ways that matter.

“I went home and screamed into my pillow.”

Robin immediately smacked Steve’s thigh with the knuckles of her left hand- grinning in triumph when Steve let out a squawk of laughter.

“Eddie Munson?”

“What about him?”

“He’s… he’s a total dud!”

“No he’s not!”

“He stepped in my mashed potatoes once! That is totally total dud material!”

“No way!”

“He wants to be like, like a metal singer!”

“He has a band! Dreams!”

“Do you even know if he can hold a tune?”

“Well, no-”

“Total. Dud.”

Robin grinned wide as Steve launched into a very quick defense about Eddie, and she decides then and there that Steve and her? They’ll be just fine.

Especially if she can get Eddie to come into Steve and her’s orbit just a bit, to see if the crush is still there.

Because while Robin may not have all of the gay knowledge in the world, there is one thing for a complete certainty that she knows.

The black hanky that Eddie kept in his pocket?

Well…

Robin chuffed to herself, before she tilted so she could lay on her side- nose tucked into the place where Steve’s neck and shoulder met.

Right before she falls asleep though, Robin does a very important thing on a mental whiteboard.

You Rule: 1

You Suck: 0

hope you all enjoyed! truthfully think this is one of my favorite things i have written. love platonic stobin. <3

#angeldreamsoffanfic #steve harrington #robin buckley #steve and robin #robin and steve #platonic stobin #stobin friendship #codependent stobin #steve harrington and robin buckley are bffs #eventual steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #richard and melissa buckley saw steve sitting in the ambulance with robin and went oh we have a son now #steve harrington has bad parents #but he has the buckleys now <3 #fleshed out robin buckley’s gay awakening #the counselor was named in my head but it didn’t make sense to fit it in here (her name was maddie)#robin likes girls where there name ends in something that sounds like the letter ‘y’#exhibit a: tammy exhibit b: vickie exhibit c: nancy exhibit d: chrissy #in this essay i will #stobin ficlet #platonic with a capital p #sometimes i tag things and then forget other (see more important) tags #sorry y’all

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joehawke · 9 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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stevesbipanic · 4 months

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@steddiemas Day 19: Steddie as Parents

Steve hadn't been able to stop looking at her. Eddie would be home soon, the snow had really started falling so they'd closed the shop early. Steve wasn't thinking about that however, not with the small bundle in his arms.

His parents had called the day before, said they'd be visiting, they never did that. Since Steve had moved out with Eddie into a little apartment downtown they'd cut off contact. Steve hadn't gotten many words out when they'd knocked on the door. They'd simply bushed the basket into his arms and a pile of documents and left. The papers were still sat on the coffee table in front of him.

He heard a jingle of keys and the front door opening, glancing up for the first time in an hour just to shush his boyfriend who was now just inside the door frozen and looking at the two of them.

"Shh, she's sleeping."

"She?"

Steve nodded, gesturing to the stack of papers.

"Her name is Emily. She's my little sister."

Eddie took careful steps and sat quietly beside him, taking in the face of the sleeping baby girl.

"She's beautiful, but sweetheart, what is she doing here?"

Steve sniffled at the question, the reality of the situation finally hitting him.

"My parents didn't want her, at least they figured that out earlier than they did about me." Tears had started to glisten in his eyes.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry. So they brought her here? That's what their visit was about?"

Steve nodded again.

"Um, they've signed adoption documents, there's a letter in there, they said she's mine if I want her, or I can give her up."

Eddie wrapped his arm carefully around Steve.

"Did you decide?"

"I can't give her up, Eds. She's so small, and she didn't ask to be born into my stupid family, I want to show her she's loved."

Eddie smiled softly.

"I think we can handle that."

"We?"

Eddie nodded.

"She's a good start to those six little nuggets, sweetheart, don't think you can scare me away that easy."

That Christmas, one extra stocking was hung up by the tree, and Steve's home felt a little more whole.

Ao3

#stranger things #steddie parents #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington has bad parents #christmas

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sc00ps-ahoy · 5 months

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steve harrington spends his christmases alone because everyone assumes he’s spending it with his family

#his parents are away somewhere again #steve harrington #eventually eddie/robin find out about it and and christmas with him as a big happy family the end :)#stranger things #steve harrington season one #steve harrington season two #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #stranger things season four #lgbtq #angst #steve harrington has bad parents #steve harrington parents #sorry about this

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otteranha · 1 year

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Insidious is the word Eddie would use for the letters that come in the mail, first to the trailer then later to their various shabby, wonderful apartments. Steve feels it even if he doesn’t have the same vast vocabulary that Eddie does, insidious is what the letters feel like.

One way plane ticket to join them in Palm Springs, with a series of college applications folded up underneath.

A brochure for a backpacking trip across Europe and his mother describing how their friend’s children had also taken gap years before they got their shit act together.

They invite him for Christmas in New York. There’s informational materials on Fordham University and NYU, but at least this time they haven’t actually started filling out applications for him.

A FedEx arrives with the a lift badge and a key to the ski lodge they’re staying at in Vale. Photos of the beautiful scenery and incidentally the beautiful daughters of their friends on the slopes.

Eddie sees them like an octopus, a kraken, endlessly reaching out arms to pull Steve back into the life they wanted him to have. He knows Steve loves him, loves their life together, but they always leave him in a weird, empty mood. It keeps Eddie awake at night thinking of the next plane ticket to come. How dare they? How dare they? They’d all but disappeared after Steve graduated from high school, the silent treatment for not getting into college, for not trying to get into college. Then turned him out completely when they found out about him and Eddie, not knowing if their son, their injured, traumatized son would have a roof over his head. Because they always thought he’d come crawling back, lesson learned, ready to dance their little dance. He thinks But that didn’t happen and now they’re starting to worry, they’re starting to sweat that they won’t have junior to join the family business, they won’t have the perfect daughter-in-law to criticize and the 2.5 grandkids to show off, they’re starting to worry about the Harrington family name.

It’s not fair to Steve because he always, always throws the letters in the trash. He doesn’t even open them if he can tell from the envelope who they’re from but it’s not always obvious, and he’s a smidge paranoid about missing a bill. Eddie opens them all out of morbid curiosity. He knows it’s not good for him, not good for them that it’s just fueling his own fear and thick, bitter anger at them for making Eddie afraid, for making Steve look so sad until-

“Uh, babe what’s this?” Eddie asks.

Steve’s come home with a bunch of official looking papers. “It’s a boilerplate for a cease and desist letter. Did you know you don’t need a lawyer to send one? I was talking to Daphne down at the library about the letters we keep getting from my parents and she showed me these. See, you fill in your own stuff like mad libs.”

All Eddie can do is stare slack-jawed. His voice comes out hoarse, “Mad libs?”

“It’s more serious than that, obviously, that’s just the only thing I could think of when she showed me.” Daphne down at the library loves Steve, all the librarians love Steve. Most of them love Eddie too but he hasn’t noticed.

“So you send them this cease and desist thing and they legally have to stop offering you all expenses paid trips to Nice?”

“It’s worth a try.”

“And you’re sure you want to do this?” Eddie tries not to let his voice break.

Steve looks at him seriously. “I know they still think it’s not too late for the whole prodigal son thing, but every time I think about the things I would have to do or not do to make them love me, if they even really could love me-” he sighs, “And the way I’d have to live. I know you think it’s some huge sacrifice for me to be with you and ignore my parents, but it’s not just that. It would be Robin too. And Dustin and Erica and Will and the rest of my little weirdos because they’re little weirdos. You would be worth it on your own, you would. But even without that, I can’t live like them.” He finally smiles at Eddie, winks then climbs on the table and announces in a dramatic tone, “Forced conformity! That’s what’s killing the kids!”

Eddie pulls him off the table and Steve kisses his teary, snotty face.

“Shut up, I do not sound like that!”

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things hc #stranger things au #st steddie #stranger things fic #steve harrington has bad parents

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