#winter steddie
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in love and war part 2
For Spicy Six Winter Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair
T | 2221 | feelings realization, bi awakening | read part 1 here | part 3 here
And this takes us to the present. The revenge plan.
The sun has just come up and there are four of them camping in Steve’s car, sharing thermoses full of hot beverages of choice. (Steve brought one full of hot cocoa and it's the crowd’s favorite.)
“Eddie is not an early riser, we’re wasting time,” Lucas complains while observing the trailer with his binoculars.
“I think his uncle’s gonna wake him up for us,” Robin assures him. And like clockwork, Wayne Munson’s truck comes into view, almost knocking down one of their sculptures. The man steps out, takes a look at the dozen snowmen surrounding his trailer, and disappears inside.
About fifteen minutes later, the curtains in one of the windows move. Steve’s buzzing in his seat. Or maybe just shivering. He reaches into his pocket for a tissue to wipe his runny nose.
“There’s a message!”
“Well, read it!”
“Nice move, Stevie,” Lucas reads the paper that appeared in the window. “Can’t play with you tho, I’m sick. Sad face.”
“Did he draw a sad face or…?”
“Of course, he drew it!”
Steve yanks the binoculars from Lucas to see for himself. The papers disappeared but Eddie took their place in the window, wrapped in a blanket. There’s a scarf around his neck and his nose is red. He looks bad.
“Damn. He really is sick.”
“Full offense but you look like shit, too.”
“Can it, Mayfield.”
He steps out and walks up to the trailer. Eddie finally spots him and he perks up and waves at him.
“Hi!”
Even through the window, Steve can hear how croaky his voice is.
“Guess there goes your next campaign.”
Eddie laughs weakly, it turns into a cough.
“Guess so.”
“You started it,” he reminds him.
“I know. Sorry.”
“Why?” Steve frowns at him. Eddie shrugs.
“Seemed like a fun idea.”
“Imagine how much fun you could be having playing DnD now.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waves his hand. “But. You know.” He shrugs again.
“No, I don’t know.” He shakes his head, frowning again.
“You don’t play DnD.”
He taps against the glass nervously and Steve collects himself quickly.
“We can find something that doesn’t end with you in bed.”
Eddie’s eyes sparkle with mischief and Steve immediately realizes the double meaning in his words.
“Okay, shut up.”
He turns around and leaves quickly. The inside of his car is surprisingly warm and he shivers from head to toe.
“Well, I’m leaving before I catch whatever this is,” Max eyes him before escaping the car. She stops once outside. “Lucas, you coming?”
The boy scrambles behind her.
“Let’s get you home,” Robin squeezes his arm.
He takes one last glance at Eddie’s trailer and nods.
It’s all misery from there. He makes camp in the living room because that’s where the tv is and he needs some entertainment while sitting on his ass and coughing. Robin takes stock of his medicine cabinet and whatever else he may need while housebound. She forces him to take his temperature. He’s prissy about it because it would make the sickness real, but it’s barely above average.
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Robin pats him on the head while inspecting the thermometer. “Where’s your walkie?”
“There’s no need-”
“Little shitheads need to know they’re on their own. Or rather on their parent’s mercy.”
He nods.
“It should be on my desk.”
She’s gone for a while which makes him assume he’s excluded from the conversation. There’s probably a lot of yelling happening from the kids and Robin’s saving him the headache, bless her heart. She comes back eventually, walkie in hand.
“I’ll leave it nearby in case you need anything, but I told them not to bother you, that you’ll contact them if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” he smiles. “You’re the best.”
“I know,” she smiles back. “Dustin isn’t happy, of course, but his mom said they’ll come with some soup later. Max said, and I quote “serves them well.”
“She's not wrong,” he mutters.
“Will and Lucas said they’re sorry. Will said Mike’s sorry too.”
Steve snorts.
“Course he did. What did Eddie say?”
“Nothing,” she shrugs. “Either he was sleeping or too sick to speak up.”
“Huh.” He’s weirdly disappointed about that.
“Anyway, I gotta go to work now because my coworker called in sick.” She pats his knee as she stands up.
“Uh, I’m sorry?”
She shakes her head.
“You’ll pay me back when I come down with whatever I just caught from you. I’ll come over tomorrow with some movies. don’t forget Dustin’s coming later today!”
He groans.
“Right, of course.”
“Yeah, not jealous about that, buddy.” She pats his head. His hair is ruined enough that he doesn’t protest. “Walkie if you need anything, do not leave the house, keep yourself warm. Toodles!”
“See you, Rob.”
Later he has to listen to Dustin yelling at him from the other side of the room (“I’m not getting any closer to your germs, Steve!”). Claudia, the wonderful mom she is, doesn’t have such reservations and hands him the soup she brought after heating it.
“Dusty made us make rounds to all your friends to gather a care package for you.”
Steve makes a surprised sound over his cup.
“Being sick is so boring, we thought it could help!” Dustin adds, still yelling from afar. But the anger seems to have seeped out of him. “We’re going to Eddie’s next, his care package is cooler.”
“Dustin!”
Steve laughs.
“He’s probably right, Ms. Claudia, I don’t think our interests overlap as much as with Eddie.”
“Well, you’re gonna get educated because we do not have boring jock shit for you.”
“Dustin!”
“What?! It’s the truth!”
Steve snorts so hard, he needs a tissue.
After they leave, he digs into the care package like it’s a Christmas morning. Everything has little post-it notes with get-well wishes and signed who it’s from. From Robin, he got promised medication restock and some hard candy for his throat. Will gave him a copy of Hobbit and a tape which upon opening, turned out to have a small joint hidden inside, courtesy of Jonathan. El lent him a Wonder Woman comic. Dustin gave him a Batman comic and a handwritten guide titled “D&D for dummies”, that actually made him chuckle. At the bottom, probably because Dustin was ashamed of his friend, was an issue of Sports Illustrated with a note “Read the Magic Johnson interview!” and below that, a girly-looking magazine, dryly signed “from Erica.” He chuckled to himself and opened it first. Inside was another Post-it note that read “page 17”. Intrigued, he flips the pages to find it.
On page seventeen, there is a segment titled “Flirting or bullying?” and one of the questions/stories is highlighted with a pink marker. Steve gets to reading.
“Dear TM team,
My friend, S, is being followed by this boy who keeps starting snowball fights. He’s waiting for S’s shift to end, sitting in his van outside the shop to do so. It’s turning into a full-blown snowball war by this point. My other friend thinks they are pulling pigtails, but I just think they are dumb. So, is it flirting or boys being idiots? -E”
Steve drops the magazine and goes into the kitchen to have a refill of his soup.
When Robin comes in the next day, the magazine still lies where he left it, taunting him. His heart stutters when she picks it up with a laugh.
“I guess under all her snark Erica is just another girl, huh?”
Oh, how wrong she was.
He licked his dry lips before speaking up, barely audible and fucking terrified.
“Open it.”
Surprised, her eyes snap at him, but something in his tone makes her comply without a word. He pretends to busy himself studying the romcoms she brought.
“Huh,” he hears among the rustle of the pages. He looks up, too tempted to watch her face while she reads.
“What’s so fucking funny?” he asks, watching her lips quirk.
“Nothing!” she squeaks. “I’m surprised she did that.”
“I’m not. It’s Erica.”
“True,” she giggles, closing the magazine. He frowns at her.
“What did they say?”
“You didn’t read it?”
He taps his fingers against his mug.
“I chickened out,” he admits.
“Why don’t you ask Eddie yourself?”
“Robin,” he whines.
“Steve,” she whines back. She scoots closer and takes the mug out of his hand to lace their fingers together. “Listen, I rejected you and now we’re friends. You’re friends with Nancy too. You can let him down gently, it’s not the end of the world.”
“No, Robin…” He sighs, squeezing her hand. “I think I was, um… pulling his pigtails back.”
“Oh shit.”
“Oh shit,” he nods.
They look into each other’s eyes, giddy and nervous, before bursting into giggles. Their eyes fall back on the magazine.
“Hey.”
“Hm?”
“Didn’t Eddie get a care package from them too?”
“Oh shit.”
“Dude I can’t stay here forever, pick up the phone!”
“Your yelling is really not helping me.”
“Oh, so you’d rather do it by yourself?”
He winces.
“No? Yes? I don’t know!”
She groans and he’s pretty sure she’s about to strangle him when the phone calls. They both jump and stare at it. Robin eyes him but he’s not moving a muscle so she groans and picks it up in the middle of the third ring.
“Yes?” She sounds calm and collected. “Oh, hi Eddie!” She smiles like an imp, staring straight into Steve’s soul. “You sound like shit.”
He makes a sound of protest, but she puts a hand up to stop him.
“Oh, you just got your voice back? And you’re calling Steve first thing? How sweet!” She’s making kissy faces at him and he’s about to commit murder. “Yes, he’s awake, I’ll get him.” She holds out the receiver. “For you.”
“Fucking obviously,” he murmurs, snatching it from her. She snickers.
“I’ll be in the living room,” she says and struts away, but he keeps an eye on her just in case she decides to eavesdrop.
“Steve?”
He does sound terrible.
“It’s me, hi.”
“Hi, um. Did you, by any chance, maybe, perhaps, get a care package from the kids?”
Steve’s insides twist.
“Yes?”
“From Erica too?”
“Yes.”
“A magazine?”
“Page seventeen?”
Eddie breathes hard into the receiver.
“Yes, that.”
The silence hangs between them. His clogged sinuses make it hard to formulate thoughts.
“What did they say?”
“What?”
“Was it flirting or bullying?” he clarifies, fumbling with the cord.
“You didn’t read it?”
“No.” He tries to find an explanation that doesn't sound bad. “Wanted to hear it from you.”
Eddie takes a ragged breath, it turns into a coughing fit. Steve frowns.
“You should go back to bed, we can talk about it later.”
“No!” Eddie protests straight away. Coughs a bit more. “I just… Yes, they say it was flirting,” he spits out.
Steve suddenly feels worse.
“But they were wrong,” he pushes for clarification.
Eddie sounded like they were.
“I don’t know,” he admits instead. Steve frowns.
“What do you mean you don’t know? You either flirt or-”
“I never thought about it, okay?” Eddie interrupts him. “I always assumed I’m into chicks but I’d definitely not flirt with one like that.”
It feels like a punch in the gut and Steve knows his own answer. Robin’s right, he’s survived rejection and unrequited feelings and got life-long friendships out of it. He can bear one more.
“Well, I’m pretty sure it was flirting on my part.”
Eddie starts coughing again.
“It’s okay if you weren’t i just wanted to be clear,” he adds as soon as the coughing subdues. “I never thought about it before either.”
“No, listen. Steve. Stevie.”
Steve’s stomach makes a backflip against his will.
“Yes?”
“I’m still thinking about it, okay? Just, the fever isn’t helping. Like, I want to say yes, but I’d rather say it when I’m not sick and half out of it, you know?”
Steve barks out a laugh, relieved and hopeful.
“Sure, makes sense. I’ll still be here.”
Waiting, like a dumbass.
“Cool. I’ll call you tomorrow, I’m out of stamina for today.”
“Sure, uh, sleep well.”
“You too, sweetheart.”
Steve’s too stunned by the pet name to put the phone away, so they just breathe into each other's ears, startled. But he won’t let Eddie one-up him like that.
“Goodnight, handsome.”
Eddie made a choked sound before ending the call. Steve puts the phone down and walks back into the living room, where Robin is waiting for him, the TV forgotten.
“Well? What did he say?” she asks before he can sit down.
“That he’s still thinking about it.”
“Nooooo!”
“But he did call me a sweetheart.”
“Oh?”
“I guess neither of us realized we were flirting.”
“Steve!” She starts slapping his arm.
“What? What?!”
“I hate you so much! You were each other’s gay awakening? How is that fair?!”
She’s pouting when he grasps her hands to stop the assault.
“Well, we can plot a snowball war against Vickie next,” he offers.
“Are you kidding me?! She’d hate it!”
Steve imagined a gaggle of kids ganging against the poor little redhead.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I guess men are a simpler species.”
“You are so lucky I love you.”
#spicysixwinterfanworkschallenge#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#mine#stranger things#ff#st#stranger things 4#steddie fanfiction#winter steddie#steddie fluff#steddie one shot#steddie oneshot
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fourth scene from a nonexistent fic
#the 4th installment. idk if i should keep it here. like it’s the 4 seasons yknow? let me know.#also yeah. you guys can actually write fics based off these if you want. i’ve been getting asks about that#winter#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington fanart#eddie munson fanart#steddie fanart#stranger things fanart#stranger things#my art#st#scene from a nonexistent fic
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There’s a table in the school library that’s nestled in the corner, right by a radiator; Steve has claimed it ever since his double block of ‘private study periods’ began.
Not that he’s planning on doing any studying: it’s the last day of school before the winter break, and while his face has healed up from the whole Billy Hargrove Incident, he still finds himself feeling wiped at random—like his body’s having a delayed adrenaline crash ever since he pulled Dustin out of that freaky vine-infested tunnel.
So really, this spot should be ideal for a couple hours of not having to think.
And it would be perfect, if his eyes weren’t instinctively drawn to movement at the front desk.
Because for the past god-knows-how-long, Eddie Munson has been in a back-and-forth with the librarian.
It had started when he ambled up to the desk with a healthy pile of books in his hands, placed them down neatly, all ready to be stamped. Flashed a charming smile.
Steve was too far away to hear the words, but he got the gist that whatever the librarian had said amounted to no, absolutely not, because Eddie scooped the books back up, dumped them on a table a little distance away from Steve’s, then hemmed and hawed before returning to the desk with a more modest pile than before.
He was sent away again with presumably the same refusal, and so the pattern repeated until this very minute: he’s returning with just one book in his hands, his smile less charming now, more desperate.
But… no luck.
Eddie slouches back to the table in defeat. Just stands there, staring down at the books.
And goddamn it, Steve thinks, now he’s invested.
“Hey. Munson,” he says in an undertone. “What’s up?”
He doesn’t miss the weird kind of double take Eddie gives him, but at least Steve knows it’s not because of his face being a mess this time—seriously, drawing looks from students when all he wanted was to get in line for crappy cafeteria pizza had not been fun.
“Nothing,” Eddie says with a shrug, and he flashes another wide smile that makes Steve think bullshit. “Apparently I racked up a mountain of late fees. Who knew?” He sighs, glancing at his wristwatch. “Guess I’ve got enough time to just read the—oh. Um. Hey?”
“These books?” Steve confirms, having already stood up to look at them.
Eddie blinks a few times. “Yeah, these—uh, Harrington, what the fuck do you think you’re—?”
Steve heads over to the front desk with the books. It’s not all that difficult of a decision to make; he remembers Tommy H had his own library late fees in freshman year, but got nothing more than a simpering, “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again, sweetie,” just because his mom knew someone on the school board.
“For checking out, please,” Steve says, not bothering with a smile as he hands over his library card.
The only resistance he gets is a raised eyebrow from the librarian before all the books are stamped.
“What the fuck,” Eddie says, voice flat; he doesn’t take the books when Steve tries to give them to him, so Steve just shrugs and goes back to his seat, sets the books pointedly on the edge of the table.
“Look, man, it’s up to you, but I’m not gonna take them. They’ll just be sitting here.”
Eddie huffs. He goes over to the books, his hand twitching towards them before drawing back, like he’s at war with himself.
“You—you didn’t have to do that,” he gets out as if it physically pains him to do so.
Prickly, Steve thinks.
“It’s no big deal,” he says. “My account’s gathering dust, so someone might as well get the good of it.”
At hearing that, Eddie looks a little less defensive. He chews on his lips for a few seconds, then says, his tone serious, “Harrington, I’ll—I’ll forget. Like, with the holidays… like, I guarantee you, even if I write a million fucking reminders, I’m gonna take these books and forget to bring ‘em back for months.”
“Oh, no,” Steve says dryly, “lemme go alert the press, I just heard a blatant confession to a crime. Dude, just take them, what do I care if your homework takes you months to—”
“It’s not even for school,” Eddie interrupts through gritted teeth, “it’s dumb, it’s just—”
“Jesus Christ. Lemme call the press again, sounds like you’re reading a book for fun.”
Eddie stares at him. Steve raises an eyebrow in challenge—he could do this all day; just the other week, he’d beaten Mike in a brutal staring contest that felt like it went on for hours.
Eddie breaks first. “Fine,” he says with another huff, but he’s less agitated when handling the books—lingers thoughtfully on their titles, puts a couple in his backpack. The rest he opens at seemingly random parts, but it looks like he knows what he’s searching for.
And then it seems as if he’s just going to pick up the remaining books and walk away—Steve expects him to, honestly—but he ends up staying where he is, gives Steve a look of consideration, almost like he’s a book worth reading, too.
“You stole my table, you know?” Eddie says.
“Uh, no,” Steve says automatically, then adds with more confidence, “I was definitely here first.”
Eddie snorts. “Nope. My senior year, uh,” he shrugs self-deprecatingly, “the first time around. That was my spot. Was pretty possessive over it too, think I signed the table, like, underneath.”
Steve’s eyebrows rise in interest; he runs a finger along the underside of the table and soon feels it: an E.M scratched into the wood.
“Huh,” he says. “Guess you’re right.”
A pause.
And then Steve surprises himself.
“There’s, um, room here, if you want? I’m not gonna use the whole table.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. There’s a long enough silence in which Steve considers just telling him to forget about it, but then—
Eddie sits down opposite him.
It’s not as awkward as Steve was expecting: Eddie seems focused enough on his books, on bringing out a battered looking journal with sheets of paper that look like they’re hanging on by a thread. He roots around his backpack some more, retrieves a ballpoint pen with a quiet, triumphant, “Aha!”
He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve isn’t even making an attempt to look busy; his own side of the table is bare.
“Didn’t know you were left-handed,” Steve says after a moment.
Eddie looks up from his note-taking. He smirks, waggles his eyebrows briefly. “Fitting, huh? Spooky.”
“Oh, I’m terrified.”
And Eddie actually laughs—hushed, but it still counts as one.
He soon returns to being absorbed in whatever it is he’s writing, which means Steve has less of a distraction when the familiar wave of tiredness washes over him.
He tries to sit up as well as he can, conscious of the fact that he’s not alone, but the radiator is the perfect temperature, and the steady scratch of Eddie’s pen has a soporific effect. He’s distantly aware of the fact that his head is nodding down with dwindling energy to try and stop it—hears Eddie’s voice, as if from very far away, rising in question.
Steve sniffs sharply, jerks his head back up and blinks hard. “What?”
“Oh, sorry,” Eddie says quickly, and he sounds genuine. “Didn’t know you were sleeping.”
“I wasn’t,” Steve says.
“Uh, okay,” Eddie says. His lips twitch. “That was an awfully long blink then, Harrington.”
“Shut up,” Steve retorts mildly. He stretches slightly, hides a yawn behind his hand. “Did you actually want something or—”
“Nah, wasn’t important.”
Steve frowns, unconvinced. The side of Eddie’s left hand is covered in ink, and Steve can see where his pen has started to die on him as his writing gets more faded across the page.
Steve puts a hand in his pocket, brings out another ballpoint and throws it at Eddie.
The pen bounces along the table, and Eddie manages to catch it one-handed.
“Good catch,” Steve says.
“Thanks,” Eddie says. He sounds almost uncertain.
Silence falls. It only takes another minute or two of hearing Eddie writing away for Steve’s determination to stay awake to waver again. He slumps forward with a mumbled, “M’just gonna…” and lays his head down.
Eddie stops writing.
“Hey, man, are you… okay? Like, if you feel… if you wanna go home I could take you to the nurse? Or—”
“I’m fine,” Steve says into his folded arms. “S’just… the aftermath of… stuff. No big deal.”
“Oh?” Eddie says tentatively.
Steve lifts his head up a bit, squints dubiously. “C’mon, Munson. You must’ve heard the rumour mill.”
Billy Hargrove had spread it all over the school, how he had ‘taught King Steve a lesson.’ In all honesty, Steve hadn’t cared all that much about how he himself came across in whatever story Billy created, was just relieved that at least Max and Lucas’s names had been kept out of it.
“I don’t put much stock in rumours,” Eddie says carefully. “Folks can say… all kindsa things.”
Steve nods faintly. Fair point.
“Okay, but you can take a little bit of stock in this one. Like, a smidge.”
Steve demonstrates with his thumb and forefinger.
It’s only when Eddie doesn’t smile in response that Steve realises he’d been hoping to make him laugh again. Maybe.
“Huh. Well. For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Steve says tiredly.
“Harrington. I’m not stupid, y’know? That was more than a… a stupid fight after school or something. Like, I can remember what your face looked like.”
“Gee, thanks.” Steve sets his head back down, closing his eyes.
“I didn’t—I just meant whatever it was, it… it went too far. Way too fucking far.”
Steve yawns again, doesn’t bother hiding it. “Yeah. Something like that.”
He’s resigning himself to the thought of waking up with a stiff neck before Eddie sighs and says, “If you’re gonna sleep, Harrington, don’t be an amateur about it.”
Steve looks up in time to see Eddie reaching underneath the table with one leg, hooking his ankle round the empty chair next to Steve and shoving it closer to him.
“Three or four’s probably the best amount for stretching out on,” Eddie says. “Uh, speaking from experience.”
Steve smiles. “Noted.”
He manoeuvres himself until he’s lying much more comfortably across the seats, using his backpack and coat as a pillow.
Frustratingly but predictably, despite his fatigue, sleep doesn’t come easily, so Steve looks underneath the table and asks, “What’re you writing about, Munson?”
He can see Eddie’s boots, how one foot is tapping away, as if in time to a song no-one else can hear.
“Um, I was just… getting inspiration for… it’s kinda like. Like a story, but—”
“Don’t hurt yourself, dude,” Steve says, “I know what a campaign is.”
The foot tapping stops.
“Aren’t you just full of surprises?” Eddie says.
He sounds a bit far away again, though Steve knows that’s just in his head; he can feel his eyelids drooping.
“You’ve got…” He sighs, voice trailing off as he finishes, “No idea…”
Eddie launches into a speech; Steve can follow it well enough for a little while, Eddie rambling about the kind of decisions he thinks his players will make in the game, but eventually the words become a blur, and he drifts off just like that, into an unexpectedly peaceful sleep.
He wakes with the lightest of touches to his shoulder, a soft, “Steve?” that nevertheless makes him jolt to full alertness in a blink, reaching for a bat he doesn’t currently have.
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yelps, almost falling back against the table. “What the hell kinda military training d’you have, Harrington?”
“Just have good reflexes,” Steve says, hopes it sounds casual enough as he breathes through his suddenly racing heart.
“Yeah, that’s one way to fucking put it. Anyway, uh. Sorry, didn’t mean to, like, startle you, but you slept right through the bell, man.”
Steve sits up; the library is empty apart from them, the librarian shooting them a not so subtle glare. And he realises that while everyone else was rushing out of school, eager for the holidays to start, Eddie must’ve stayed. Waited for him.
Steve runs a hand through his hair, quickly puts on his coat.
“God, sorry, you didn’t have to—if I’ve made you late, I’m—”
“Nah, don’t sweat it.” Eddie puts his backpack strap across one shoulder. “I wasn’t in a hurry. Um, are you… like, good to drive? I can give you a ride, if—”
“I’m okay,” Steve says, struck by the consideration behind the offer. He means what he says though; he feels pleasantly refreshed. He smiles self-effacingly. “Think I need one class where I can just sleep, and then I’ll get through the day.”
Eddie gives a playful scoff. “That’s already a thing, Harrington, it’s called first period.”
They walk out of the library together, and Steve finds that it’s kind of… nice, honestly. He keeps waiting for some awkwardness to creep in again, but it never does.
“Big holiday plans?” Eddie asks, smalltalk that should be stilted, but it just sounds like he’s sincerely interested in the answer.
Steve shrugs. “Not really. Oh, I’ve got—you know the Snow Ball thing tomorrow, at the middle school? There’s this kid I know, I’m gonna give him a ride there, but—”
Steve breaks off with a fond shake of the head, knowing that there’s this kid I know doesn’t really give it justice, doesn’t say the full truth: that Dustin Henderson has somehow wormed his way into Steve’s goddamn heart forever.
“His mom’s invited me over for dinner tonight,” he continues. “Think he wants, like, a dress-rehearsal of his outfit or something, which is probably the closest he’ll ever come to admitting he’s nervous. I kinda feel for him, honestly. God, do you remember being thirteen? Everything seemed to matter so much, and most of it was just… stupid shit.”
They’ve reached the parking lot, and Eddie gives Steve a sideways look with a bemused smile.
“Woah, Harrington, we’re still in school, remember? Don’t think we’re meant to sound so world-weary yet.”
Steve chuckles. “Yeah.” He gestures at Eddie’s get-up. “Bet you’ve never once cared about the stupid shit, though.”
What people think.
Eddie’s smile turns more knowing. “Shockingly, Harrington,” he says, “I didn’t come out the womb like this.”
They both hesitate; they’re at Steve’s car now, Eddie’s van parked in a space that’s further away. There’s no reason, really, for the conversation to continue any longer.
But Eddie still lingers.
“Uh, enjoy your dinner, I guess. If the… dress-rehearsal goes shit, just tell the kid it’s good luck for the real night.”
Steve laughs. “He’s in the Drama Club, so that might work, actually. Thanks, Munson.” He opens the car door as Eddie nods, starts to head off to his van. Seized by a sudden impulse, Steve calls, “Happy holidays!”
“Yeah, you too.” Eddie turns, tapping at his temple exaggeratedly. “Won’t forget about the books, I promise.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “You better not,” he says, tongue-in-cheek.
He starts the car and heads for Dustin’s house, honks the horn when he drives past Eddie’s van, catches Eddie waving.
Steve thinks he quite likes the idea (regardless of whether it’ll put his library account in jeopardy), of the books finding a permanent home at Eddie’s place. Briefly imagines Eddie writing with an ink-stained hand, curled up safely in a world of his own—where the only monsters are the ones that live in between the pages.
#i’m forever in love with ‘first’ meetings i cannot help myself. can’t help writing about winter in spring too apparently#pre steddie#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve and dustin
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I definitely think that former rich kid-Steve knows how to ski, and when he and Eddie move to New England in their late twenties, he gets into it again.
Eddie, on the other hand, is not a skier. Not by any stretch of the imagination. He let Steve drag him onto the mountain once, and that was way more than enough for him.
Years later, when they have kids that they're supposed to be enrolling in sports (to become "well-rounded human beings" or whatever), Steve signs them up for skiing "just to see how it goes", and much to Eddie's chagrin, they love it, so every weekend from November through February, the Harrington family can be found at their local mountain.
Eddie joins the trip to the mountain every weekend purely for child-wrangling purposes because, seriously, three kids five-and-under is no fucking joke. His favorite part of their ski days is the conversation Steve has to have with Moe, their half-feral menace of a five-year-old, before they hit the slopes.
"Okay, no running into anyone," Steve says as he adjusts Moe's bright pink ski helmet, "Last week you were bowling people over left, right, and center."
Eddie has to hold in a snort, because it's true. The second Moe got the hang of skiing she'd made it her mission to figure out just how fast she could barrel down the mountain. To hell with the other skiers.
"Can you make some big turns today, Moe?" Steve asks, and Eddie watches Moe give her dad some major side-eye.
"Maybe," she says, her tone suggesting she wouldn't be doing any such thing.
So Moe and Steve hit the big hill and Eddie drops three-year-old Robbie off at her lesson on the bunny slope and then he gets to spend the rest of the day in the warmth of the ski lodge with baby Hazel, watching out the window as Steve makes every attempt to prevent Moe from careening straight down the mountain.
"I swear – that girl doesn't feel fear," Steve says later when he finally manages to drag Moe into the lodge for lunch, "You see it, right? She's gonna kill someone if she keeps skiing like that."
"Hey this was all you, man," Eddie shakes his head, "At least we know we can't ever sign her up for hockey."
"Jesus Christ – imagine the bloodbath that would be."
#steve's the one guy who's still in great shape even in the winter because he spends every weekend chasing his kindergartner down a mountain#(eddie is not complaining)#steddie#liv’s steddie dads verse#steddie dads#steve harrington#eddie munson#subtle dilf-steve bc I couldn't help myself
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@steddiemas Day 2: Winter Sentence Starters (Sentence Starter Saturdays)
"Holy shit!" Eddie shrieks, his voice regrettably echoing around the small quarters of Family Video's storage room, "Your hands are freezing!"
He envelopes Steve's hands in his own, brings them to his mouth and starts blowing. Steve grimaces and attempts to yank his hands away, but Eddie only tightens his grasp.
"Don't you have any mittens!" he continues, frantic as they now tug back and forward.
"No way," Steve scoffs, "I'm not walking around with an ugly pair of mittens pinned to my jacket."
He cocks his chin and his eyes flit down to the set of navy-blue mittens joined by a length of matching yarn and attached to Eddie's worn parka jacket via two safety pins.
"Excuse me!" he defends, letting go as he brings his hands to his chest to shield his mittens from further insult.
Steve giggles, "You look like a kid going off to kindergarten."
Eddie holds up a warning finger and feels his jaw clench, "My mittens are pinned to my winter jacket so I know where they are at the beginning of winter when I need my winter coat and mittens! Then, when I enter a premises that is supposed to be warm – to seek out my boyfriend whose hands should be warm – I pin them straight back on my jacket for safekeeping. It makes perfect sense!"
"So this was Wayne's idea because you kept losing them?" Steve asks, raising a brow and smirking.
"... Yeah," Eddie admits, looking down at his mittens.
The embarrassment is fleeting (this is practical for god sake!) and Eddie moves to unpin them.
"Eddie, I'm not taking your mittens!"
"Take my mittens!"
"How am I supposed to work in them?"
"You can stack away returns in a pair of mittens," Eddie offers, twirling the mittens by their joined string.
"And how am I going to type or use the phone?"
Eddie pauses and bites the inside of his cheek.
Damn it, he always has a checkmate defence.
"Turn the AC up!" he says with a click of his fingers.
"Can't," Steve grumbles, folding his arms and leaning against the built-in shelf that was supposed to support their regularly scheduled make-out session, "The AC is broken."
"What!" Eddie looks around, waving his hand about, "Where's your customer complaint form? Suggestion box? Something like that?"
"Eddie, you are not filing a complaint to Keith."
"I sure am!" he nods, determined, "Complaint or my mittens. Your choice, babydoll."
#again this is silly 😅😂#i spent way too long thinking about what kind of winter jacket eddie would wear#steddiemas#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#family video 📼
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Winter steddie, prompt from X
#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#stranger things#prompt art#stranger things fanart#chaoscreations#winter
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Eddie who never wears enough layers, always just wearing his usual denim and leather combo. Steve makes it his mission to keep him warm, always layering an extra jacket so he can take it off so he can nonchalantly give it to Eddie when he starts shivering.
Eddie who never wears beanies. The last time he complained his ears were getting cold, Steve gives him a 10 minute lecture before finally giving up. Steve had to hold his ears in his gloved hands. The look Eddie gives him as he holds his face is enough to warm up his insides.
Eddie who never wears mittens. Steve has given him maybe three pairs of his gloves already and he still somehow always forgets to bring it. The last time they had to walk, Steve had to stuff Eddie's hand on his winter jacket, hands intertwined, just to keep him warm.
Eddie who never wears scarves. Steve has to always have one wrapped around his passenger seat for Eddie. The van breaks more often in the winter season, so Eddie's been hitching rides with him now, and Steve always, always wraps him in the same baby blue scarf before he leaves for work. Eddie says it's ruining his style but he's always bundled up in it anyway.
Eddie who likes cold drinks on winter. Steve hates it, so he always has a thermos of hot chocolate he hands Eddie before he goes to work. Eddie doesn't say anything, just smiles and says, "Thanks, Stevie."
Steve starts liking Eddie Munson in the spring, with fights against a monster, with blood drying in his hands, with cut off sheets made to be a rope to save his little brother.
Steve starts knowing Eddie Munson in the summer, with pool parties, late nights filled with secrets and smoking weed, with adjusting to this new normal after all the monsters.
Steve falls in love with Eddie Munson in the winter, with red cheeks, intertwined hands in pockets to keep warm, with snow flakes stuck in his hair, with small smiles as they sip hot chocolates together.
They fall in love, easy and fast, just like the snow falling as they finally kiss for the first time.
"You're gonna get cold." Steve murmurs against Eddie's lip.
Eddie smiles cheekily, slipping his hand in Steve's winter jacket again, "You always keep me warm enough."
#STOP BECAUSE I LOVE WINTER STEDDIE#MY BABIES IN BEANIES AND MITTENS#daerants#steddie rants#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie headcanon#steddie ficlet#dae writes#daeheadcanons
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Steve had a habit of accidentally getting into situations.
Dating Nancy got him into the Upside Down stuff, trying to apologise to her made him meet Nancy, working at Scoops and he met Robin and some not so fun Russians and all of that lead to him tracking down Eddie Munson.
But honestly, Steve can't figure out how he got himself into this situation.
Dustin's grandmother was visiting for the summer since for once Dustin wasn't going to camp. Steve had a standing invitation to Sunday dinner with the Henderson's. If Claudia got her way he'd be moved in with them.
Steve was just trying to be polite to the older woman when he asked what she was making. He didn't think it would lead to his own ball of yarn and needles being shoved into his lap. He didn't want to appear rude so he carefully watched as she explained how to start a simple line which lead to rows which lead to almost half a scarf by the time dinner was ready.
Every Sunday Steve found himself with Edith Henderson learning how to knit. He was sad when she went back home.
Steve found it calming, something he could control the outcome of. Plus he enjoyed making things for other people.
The newly acquired skill would prove to be very useful when his very stubborn boyfriend didn't rug up enough come winter.
Steve wrapped Eddie in homemade scarves and mittens and hats and sweaters at every opportunity. Eddie loved it, he did have winter clothes he would wear once it got too cold but he much preferred Steve tackling him into soft knitted things that he'd made just for him.
Steve discovered that scarves were just as useful for pulling Eddie into a kiss as they were keeping him warm.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steve knits#the hendersons#ficlet#fluff#winter
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Just before Christmas, Hawkins has a huge snowstorm--biggest they've seen in decades. Mr. Merrill finds a sleigh, cleans it up, starts offering rides along the same path as the Haunted Hayride he runs at the pumpkin patch each October. And none of that should effect Eddie at all, except Steve Harrington calls him up and says the kids all want to go, Robin and Nancy too, and maybe Eddie wants to come? And Eddie says yes even though he absolutely does not want to. Doesn't like the cold; only likes watching the snow as it falls, has no interest in being out in it; and has his suspicions about horses when they're staring at him right in the eye (they're too big and they kick hard and they have all those teeth).
He says yes because Steve Harrington and his pretty hair and his plump pink lips and his tantalizing constellation of moles have Eddie's heart in a chokehold. And when the pretties boy in Hawkins calls to ask you to go for a sleigh ride with him (plus his platonic soulmate who's dating his ex-girlfriend and the seven kids you co-parent), you don't say no.
It's not a date. Eddie knows. But it's a chance to be close, to look, to laugh, to pretend that friendship proximity is enough.
As soon as Eddie walks into Steve's house, the man himself is tsk-ing. "That's what you're wearing? You'll freeze!"
"I hate winter, you know that!" Eddie pouts.
Steve tuts, extra mom as he tugs Eddie's leather jacket tighter around his neck, and Eddie tries to not let their proximity make him blush.
With a shake of his head, Steve turns, starts upstairs. "Be right back."
And he's not lying, he's bouncing in front of Eddie in less than a minute, hands full of red yarn.
"Wha--" Eddie can't get the words out before Steve jams a pair of fuzzy red ear muffs over his curls, wrapping a matching scarf gently around his neck.
All of that is astonishing in itself, but Eddie swears, swears, that Steve's eyes linger on his lips before darting back up to look him in the eye. And that the tips of Steve's ears glow pink.
"Here," Steve thrusts the red mittens into Eddie's hands. "You can do these yourself."
Under normal circumstances, Eddie would say something over-the-top flirty, too silly to be serious, but this has all thrown him for a loop, so he only manages a , "th-thanks." Then, Steve turns away, putting on his own, bright yellow winter gear. He grabs a buffalo plaid tote bag (such a mom), and before Eddie can ask what, exactly, Steve has in there, they're out the door to collect the kids and Robin and Nancy.
❄️❄️❄️❄️
Eddie knows, now, what was in the tote. A fucking thermos full of fucking hot chocolate, because Steve Harrington is infuriating and perfect, and Eddie is so fucking gone, and Steve is straight, and life is full of unfairness but this is almost too much.
He shivers and pulls the scarf that Steve (so carefully, tenderly) wrapped around his neck tighter.
The kids are all done with their ride, running through the wide open fields now, throwing snowballs and half-heartedly trying to shape snow bricks for a house. Nance and Rob are on theirs, and it's just Steve and Eddie, waiting their turn, and of course it's together. The kids all wanted to go in their group and obviously the girlfriends deserved the one-on-one time (each with lovingly poured paper cups of hot chocolate, of course), and Eddie couldn't leave Steve solo, so. It's just the two of them.
The sleigh pulls back up, and the girls, giggling pink, jump out. They rush away, leaving Eddie and Steve with Farmer Merrill and the two horses hitched to the sleigh, none of whom bother to look at the boys waiting their turn.
"Well?" Merrill asks.
"Ready, Harrington?"
"I'm not the one afraid of horses, Munson."
"Hey, I didn't say afraid," but he doesn't get to finish, because Steve climbs up to sit on the bench, patting the open space next to him.
Eddie gets in, and doesn't want to admit it but he's charmed and by more than just Steve. The sleigh is painted a deep hunter green with gold accenting, there are fucking jingle bells on the horse harnesses, and thick fleece plaid blankets piled high, so that riders can keep warm.
As soon as Eddie sits, Steve pulls the blankets over their laps. With a snap of the reigns, the horses start forward and Steve pours them hot chocolate. And goddamnit, Eddie's in love and he wants to hate this so much, it's so twee and sweet and unintentionally romantic and he adores it and the gorgeous boy sitting next to him.
He's worked himself into a good grouch about it, but then they make their way into open farmland and Farmer Merrill snaps the reigns again and the horses start to trot. Eddie shrieks with glee as the sleigh glides through the snow, and he fucking giggles, which makes Steve laugh too.
"Told you you'd love it," he says.
Eddie would argue, but Steve's eyes flash bright with happiness; the tip of his nose and his cheekbones glowing pink, and Eddie wants to kiss every spot of cold on that perfect face. He wants it so badly he has to look away, can't deal with the low tug of want in his gut.
They slip from the field into the forest, horses slowing to a more sedate pace. The trees aren't so close here, and there are enough pine and evergreen, bright with life, to make it beautiful and not barren.
Steve makes a noise, a little sigh, a happy one, that has Eddie turn to see. The other boy's face is upturned towards the sky, the trees; snowflakes, knocked loose by the light breeze, nestle in his coifed chestnut hair, dusting against his red cheeks. Eddie's world begins and ends here, with this man, in this moment.
"It's beautiful," Steve says.
"Yeah," Eddie agrees. His voice comes out all wrong, eyes never leaving the man beside him.
Steve turns, finds Eddie's eyes on him. Eddie watches as Steve connects the dots, as his eyebrows raise, and he flushes red.
"I'm sorry," Eddie cringes, looks down at remnants of hot chocolate in his paper cup.
Steve doesn't say anything, and Eddie wonders how much it will hurt to jump from the sleigh, how long it will take him to get back home walking from here.
"Eds," Steve says. Finally. "Look at me?"
Eddie can't deny Steve anything, but fear grapples at his throat. He raises his eyes, expecting anger or disgust or any number of horrible things, but he doesn't expect the hope burning in Steve's face.
Holding eye contact, Steve's hand finds Eddie's under the blanket, wrapping together as best they can in mittens.
"Is this okay?" Steve asks.
"Yeah," Eddie nods. His blush is hot enough to melt all the snow in the county.
They smile at each other; Eddie stopped breathing miles ago, but finds he doesn't need the air anymore.
The sleigh slides through the snow with a hissing crunch, accompanied by jingle bells and the snow-muffled clomp of horses hooves. They're perfectly alone, Farmer Merrill paying them no mind, so when Steve's free hand brushes against Eddie's jaw, he leans into the touch.
It's easy to close the distance between them. And this time, when Steve's eyes linger on his mouth, Eddie knows it's on purpose. His eyes drift closed right as their lips slot together in the sweetest kiss Eddie's ever had. He wants to lick at Steve's mouth, bite at his pretty, perfect lips, but he figures they have time for that; time for them to explore and learn each other. For now, when Eddie thought he'd never get this at all, the soft brush of their mouths together is enough.
They pull apart, after a few too-short minutes, knowing the ride is about to end, but they keep their hands clasped under the blankets.
"Still hate the winter?" Steve asks as the horses stop.
"Don't push your luck, Harrington," Eddie scowls.
Steve just smiles at him, all charming and knowing and hot.
The other man jumps from the sleigh, and Eddie allows the grin he's been holding back to slide across his face.
And maybe, yeah, with Steve Harrington, the winter's not so bad.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#ronance#the party#ficlet#sleigh ride#steddie date#getting together#first kiss#winter#mutual pining#who hates winter#eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington#fluff#good mom Steve harrington#found family#steve harrington is a sweetheart#eddie munson is a sweetheart
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steve loves the warmer months. he loves the tail end of spring that bleeds into summer, the feeling of sun on his skin and sleeping with a window open. he's the person who puts all of his warm winter clothes away the second the weather starts turning and refuses to get them back out again even if it's chilly because he doesn't want to jinx the weather back into being cold.
their false spring came early with a day reaching up to 81 degrees in march that had steve sitting in a lounge chair in the backyard, his shirt sleeves rolled up and head tilted to the sun like a cat in a warm spot. he went back inside later that evening with his cheeks tinged baby pink and feeling warmed to the core only to shove his coats back into storage and get out his summer clothes.
but the warmth seeped away as soon as it came and they were back in a cold snap full of defrosting cars and sleeping with the windows fully shut.
steve's pouty, his arms halfway covered by an old baseball tee as he shivers against the brisk air outside of eddie's house to pick him up for their date. he rubs his hands over his arms trying to get some warmth back into them, bouncing on his toes slightly. the second eddie opens the door, steve pushes past him into the warmth with his arms wrapped around his center to keep whatever body heat he could in.
"cold?" eddie asks with a smug grin, nice and warm under his leather jacket as steve sends him back a playful sneer. see, eddie loves the cold weather, despises when he starts to sweat under all his layers and hides away in the shade to outrun the sun's heat.
"not cold, just a little chilly, that's all."
eddie rolls his eyes and grabs a sweatshirt off the counter like he knew to be prepared. it's folded and smells like him, woody and earthy, and when he hands it to steve, he gives him a little kiss to help warm him up before wrapping him into a hug.
"i swear, you come over here looking like a popsicle just so you can steal my clothes. i know your secrets, harrington."
steve leans back in eddie's grasp to pull the sweatshirt on quickly, smooths over his hair where he knows it must have puffed up, and brings his sweater-covered hands up to his mouth to blow hot air into the fabric to warm up his nose. he melts at the eddie smell that radiates off the sweatshirt and curls his hands around eddie's neck to drag him in for another kiss.
steve might hate the cold weather, but being wrapped up in everything eddie was an unexpected plus that makes the chill worth it.
#this is brought to you by me having to wear my winter coat and scrape ice off my windshield this morning!#steddie#steddie headcanon#my writing#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie drabble#steddie ficlet#steddie fluff
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Dec 3rd: Stolen Pine
Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles
prompt: Mutual Pining | AO3: link | wc: 946 | rating: G | cw: none | tags: idiots in love, 'pine' ing, Christmas tree without glasses, light theft
Summary: Spontaneous tree theft and decorating, paired with some pining.
⍋↟⍋♡⍋↟⍋
They'd hauled in the tree. Eddie kept talking about how the evergreen part was the important bit and continued to explain Christmas's stolen nuances from paganism. Steve nodded and did his best to follow along. That was what he did lately, follow Eddie. Whether it started with a need to assure himself the guy was okay after their Upside Down torments, or if he'd honestly found Eddie intriguing from the get go, Steve couldn't say.
It didn't really matter anyway. He was positive that his feelings weren't going away as he nodded along with Eddie's excited ramblings. He hadn't even hesitated to join Eddie that night without product in his hair, glasses on.
…
Steve's vision had started to degrade. He'd noticed after his first run in with a Demogorgon. Pretty soon he legally needed corrective lenses to drive. Vanity prevented him from letting anyone other than Robin know. She'd assured him, ‘a boy is allowed to have his secrets. Just not from his platonic soulmate.’ Kinda the same reasoning behind why she knew how utterly hopeless he'd become around Eddie. The type of lovesick that had him helping Eddie with his non-christ related, Christmas tree caper.
continues after the cut
Eddie already knew about Steve's vision after helping Steve through an awful migraine where he just couldn't stand to have the contacts in. Steve'd been so nervous but Eddie just teased him about commiting to an ’Indiana Jones’ look and they kinda just moved on.
Steve hadn't expected Eddie at all that night when he knocked on his door. He'd come late to ask for help stealing a tree off some wooded, government owned property. He took one look at Eddie's ridiculous smile and dancing deep eyes and threw on a parka to help.
…
Now they were attempting to get the damn thing in a stand in the white-walled, impersonal living room of the house the ‘’Department of Energy’ had provided Wayne Munson with. They managed with no small amount of grunting and sappy fingers. More than once Steve reminded himself not to stare too hard at Eddie through the pine branches. He even liked Eddie's frustrated faces, the downward curve of his lips, the wrinkling of his forehead. Jesus, I'm pathetic.
When they finished he and Eddie stood back admiring their fresh cut theft.
“Wayne's at work for another two hours. Think we can get it done ourselves before he's back?”
“Do you have decorations?”
Eddie sheepishly twisted where he stood. “I picked up some lights, and yeah, there's a box of ornaments.”
Steve stilled, bowled over by the waves of ‘adorable’ pouring off of Eddie. “Uh yeah, I think we can manage.”
—
The box was one of the few items in a very small storage room Al Munson's name was on outside of town. Eddie had been contacted once as ‘next of kin' to make payments on the thing, and that's when he went to see it himself. Inside were his dad's ‘tools of the trade,’’ some suspicious looking luggage and duffels he recognized from a hair brained scheme or two. What a lame cache, he'd thought at the time. That was before he reached the cardboard boxes in the back. They were his mother's. Winter decorations and clothes that were never brought back out when the seasons changed after her death.
It was one of those boxes he'd picked up and brought to the new place, dragging it out now for Steve. Steve stopped unraveling lights to examine the ornaments. “These look like heirlooms,” he said, carefully picking up a blue, blown glass sphere and turning it in his strong hands.
Eddie loved the care and attention Steve directed at the one piece. The way a tendril of hair fell over his forehead; the consideration on his face. Steve was already in his ‘Clark Kent look’ when Eddie'd shown up to his place that night. Which made sense, it was late, but Eddie loved the glasses on Steve. He liked the superman analogy too. Steve was basically Eddie's superman anyway.
“They were my mother's,” Eddie said, touching the edge of a carved angel's wing inside.
Steve's mouth made a small ‘o’ shape and he carefully set the ornament back into the nestled layers of tissue paper. “They're beautiful Eds.”
They decorated together, and it was easy. Eddie was warmed just being near Steve but they seemed to naturally work well together, joking and spacing the lights and decorations just right. Steve got Eddie's radio out and they listened to crackly Christmas tunes as they went along.
They finished about thirty minutes or so before Wayne's anticipated return. The men stood back to admire their handy work. Steve took his glasses off.
“Prettier that way,” Eddie asked, breathier than he wanted to sound.
Steve chuckled. “Good both ways, but yeah. One of the only perks I guess? The lights all expand and blend a bit.”
Eddie stared at Steve taking in the tree. If the lights were as fuzzy as he'd said, Steve wouldn't notice Eddie's stare. Truth be told, Eddie always wanted to stare at Steve. The lights reflected in Steve's light brown eyes… Christ, he is so pretty. Eddie's fingers itched to twine themselves with Steve's. He was dying with every little kindness Steve showed him; dying to bite the bullet and confess. He wanted to know if his crush was one sided, but if things took a different turn... Telling Steve could ruin what they had, and then who would help him steal a Christmas tree at two am?
He could live with this for now, watching Steve lit by the glow of Christmas lights they hung together.
“Thanks Stevie.”
“Anytime Eds.”
2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#ao3 fanfic#i write things#stranger things#christmas tree#xmas#winter solstice#crimes#decorating the christmas tree#idiots in love#mutual pining#steddieholidaydrabbles
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10 ships and lyrics you associate with them
(these are all romantic but you can do any)
1. theo and liam
“don’t know if i hate you or if i wanna date you, put you in a bodybag instead of my bed” (bodybag by chloe moriondo)
2. inej and kaz
“and we will never go back to that bloodshed crimson clover, uh huh, the worst was over. my hand was the one you reached for all throughout the great war” (the great war by taylor swift)
3. clarke and lexa
“and baby, for you i would fall from grace just to touch your face. if you walk away, i’d beg you on my knees to stay” (don’t blame me by taylor swift)
4. sam and bucky
“at the same time i wanna hug you, i wanna wrap my hands around your neck. you’re an asshole but i love you” (true love by pink)
5. dean and cas
“somewhere in the multiverse, there’s a you and me that works” (multiverse by maya manuela)
6. jordan and layla
“i like shiny things but i’d marry you with paper rings. uh huh, that’s right. darling, you’re the one i want” (paper rings by taylor swift)
7. merlin and arthur
“and i know i make the same mistakes every time, bridges burned, i never learn. at least i did one thing right, i did one thing right. i’m laughing with my lover, making forts under covers. trust him like a brother, yeah you know i did one thing right. starry eyes sparking up my darkest night” (call it what you want by taylor swift)
8. steve and eddie
“and i don’t want the world to see me ‘cause i don’t think that’s they’d understand. when everything’s made to be broken, i just want you to know who i am” (iris by goo goo dolls)
9. tara and darcy
“please don’t say you love me ‘cause i might not say it back. doesn’t mean my heart’s not skipping when you look at me like that” (please don’t say you love me by gabrielle ann aplin)
10. tao and elle
“i don’t wanna look at anything else now that i saw you. and i don’t wanna think of anything else now that i’ve thought of you. i’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night, but now i see daylight. i only see daylight” (daylight by taylor swift)
your turn: @babygiriraeken @bendystrah @luckyvd @phantomraeken @idkthisusernameistken @thiamsxbitch @outcastpack @disasterpenguin @raekensarcher @sydney-winchester
#thiam#teen wolf#kanej#shadow and bone#six of crows#clexa#the 100#sambucky#falcon and the winter soldier#destiel#supernatural#jordayla#all american#merthur#merlin#steddie#stranger things#tara and darcy#tao and elle#heartstopper
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Really love the idea of Steve shaving his head. After everything that he's been through he feels like he has no control over his life and people still only remember him as Steve 'The Hair' Harrington. He doesn't want to be associated with a name that was attached to his douchebag younger self, he wants people to look at him and actually see him, not his damn hair.
So, after a particularly bad breakdown, Eddie shaves Steve's head. They don't acknowledge the fact that Steve is crying through the whole thing, they don't really say much as Eddie shaves away something that used to be a big part of Steve's personality. He was the guy with great hair. He's not quite sure who he is without it but he's determined to find out.
While Steve is standing in the mirror rubbing his bald head, Eddie mutters a quiet "Fuck it." And shaves his head as well. They're turning over a new leaf together.
#steve would look hot bald#they wear matching beanies in winter to keep their little bald heads warm#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#st4 vol2#steveddie
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Realizing my Kas Steddie obsession is an just updated version of my Winter Solider Stucky obsession.
#steddie#steddie headcanon#kas eddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stucky#steve rogers#winter soldier#bucky barnes
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Perfect Synchronicity
“What’s it feel like?” Steve asks, words tumbling out before he can stop them.
“What’s what feel like, Stevie?” Eddie asks, turning to him with a smile.
“What’s it feel like to… you know, be touched there? To be—” he swallows around the lump in his throat, “—to be fucked there?”
Eddie chuckles, “In the ass?”
Steve hears Eddie through the walls sometimes, but he’s never really listened before.
My Steddie Winter Exchange fic for @transmascsteveharrington is here!!
Read it on Ao3
#steddie winter exchange#steddiewinterexchange#steddie one shot holiday exchange#steven harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steve x eddie#steddie fic rec#mojowithcraft fics#roommates#oh my god they were roommates#friends to lovers
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"Steve!"
Eddie stages-whispers his boyfriend's name before he has even reached the bedroom. He furiously rubs his bare arms, shaking from the cold.
He'd dried off as best he could downstairs, first kicking off his muddied boots at the front door. He discarded his soaked shirt and (likely ruined) jacket in the laundry, settling for drying his hair with a dishcloth he had nabbed on the way.
He has probably left wet footprints all through the house, but the mark they will leave on Mrs Harrington's hardwood floors is a problem for Tomorrow Eddie.
"Steve! Psst! Steve! Steve... Steeeeeve," he says, focusing on Right-Fucking-Now Eddie as he toes his wet socks off in the doorway.
He hobbles along, shivering as he reaches the foot of the bed. Of course, being left to fall asleep alone during a rainstorm, Steve has completely starfished across the bed.
And he is snoring. Loud.
"Steve!" he not-so-much whispers this time, he taps the exposed foot sticking out from under the covers and begins peeling off his soaked jeans.
They stick to his legs and he stumbles sideways, catching himself on the edge of the bed just before he hits the floor. The move practically jolts the mattress a solid inch. But Steve doesn't move. He merely snorts, all wet and throaty (it's gross). He then groans and retracts his foot back under the blanket.
"Dude!" Eddie yelps, slapping a hand to his forehead.
This is what he gets for insisting Corroded Coffin still play their scheduled Tuesday night gig at The Hideout when Hawkins was supposed to receive the worst rainfall in three years overnight. And of course, the pretty weather lady in her green dress and gigantic side ponytail on the local news was more than correct.
"Mrmphf."
Finally, something.
He ducks down onto the floor, feeling around in the darkness for a t-shirt, a sweater, those silly boyish pyjama pants Steve wears... Anything that is dry and preferably warm. His hand touches something and he kneads it.
Okay, so maybe not Steve's Family Video vest.
He shakes his fist in the air and growls as he tosses it. Now on his hands and knees, he scrambles around. Carpet... Carpet... Steve's jeans... A sock... Carpet... The jacket he decided not to wear tonight... Another sock...
Bingo! A sweater.
A sweater that smells like Steve's cologne and fruity shampoo. Eddie shudders. Or maybe it's more that he doubles over in a rain-induced shiver.
He shucks it on and moves to his designated side of the bed, teeth chattering all the way.
"Huh?" Steve says, clearly on a sleepy delay (and completely oblivious to Eddie scuttling around on the floor looking for some damn clothes) as he palms around nowhere near the bedside lamp.
"Move over! I'm freezing!"
He doesn't wait for an answer. Or movement. He just starts shoving Steve's barely-conscious deadweight without a great deal of success.
"Okay!" Steve grumbles, heaving himself back over to his side with a dramatic huff, taking most of the blankets with him.
Eddie slips under the scrap of covers he is left with, burrowing in close to the warm space Steve just vacated. He squirms his way close enough that he can slip his hands up under Steve's sleep shirt, a paper-thin piece of material that is wholly inappropriate for such a freezing night.
"You're cold," Steve says with a slow motion-like gasp, eyes snapping open as he arches his back away from almost-frostbitten fingers.
"Yeah, no shit!" he retorts, immediately regretting it because Natural Space Heater Steve Harrington has all the power here.
But to his surprise, Steve kisses him on the cheek as he flaps the blankets around enough to cover them both fully. He pulls Eddie closer with one arm, still strong despite being half asleep.
"Why aren't you wearing pants!" Eddie exclaims far too loudly for the silence of Steve's plaid-soaked bedroom.
"But it's warm in here," he grumbles back, eyes fluttering shut too quickly to see Eddie rolling his. Steve wiggles closer still, tangling their legs together as he mumbles, "C'here... I need to... go back to sleep... now..."
He hardly gets the words out as they morph into a low snore directly in Eddie's ear.
#it's non-stop raining where i live and i think we've officially hit winter weather#i don't like iiiiit#steddie#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#lilys ficlets
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