#dio’s steddie ramblings

[flowercrowngods]

“Baby?”

Steve lifts his head off the pillow to look at Eddie, his back arching in a much needed way after lying on his stomach for so long, and he ends up groaning appreciatively as he stretches his back a little more. It makes Eddie smile. All the small things do.

Overcome with sudden but gentle affection, Steve rolls over with a matching smile and comes to a stop lying halfway beneath Eddie, getting a glorious view of his deepening dimples.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Eddie says, his hand coming up to brush Steve’s hair out of his forehead. Steve leans into his warmth a little further, feeling so incredibly loved when Eddie looks at him like that.

It’s infinite, what he feels for Eddie. What he feels with Eddie.

“Oh? ‘Bout what?”

Eddie leans down and brushes a kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose. “You,” he says. “Me. Us.”

Steve hums, wrapping himself in Eddie’s scent as he buries his face in his chest, his arms trapped between them. He can’t move. Can hardly breathe. It’s perfect, and Eddie always indulges his cat-like tendencies, as he calls it.

“Tell me about your thoughts?”

A hand weaves its way into his hair, scratching wonderfully along his scalp in lazy, soothing patterns.

“I’m gonna put pillows on the walls for you.”

“Hmm?”

“When we have our own place. I’m gonna put pillows on the walls for you. In the kitchen even, so you can sit on the floor and still be comfy. You can have a little nook for floor time with Robin. And it’s gonna be padded with pillows, but the ones that are still solid. Only a little soft. Still grounding.” Eddie mumbles, a little lost in thought like he’s still imagining it all unfold.

Steve melts, first rolling further into him and then back, so he can look up and meet those soft, soft eyes.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“All the time. Never wanna tell you about it so I won’t ruin the surprise, but, I don’t know. Wanted to tell you. You’re gonna have bougie-ass wall pillows, angel.”

And Steve doesn’t know how to handle this. How to take it all, take everything Eddie gives him and live his life an unchanged man. His heart is going to burst one of these days. It’s gonna burst and it’s gonna go everywhere, remind the world for all eternity of the love they shared. Built. Shaped and reshaped in all the ways they needed.

“Everything,” he says, his voice weak with the awe he feels, his own hand coming up to Eddie’s cheek.

“Hmm?” Eddie’s nuzzling the palm of his hand, brushing kiss over kiss to the centre.

“You’re— You’re everything. Can’t believe it sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?” Eddie teases, making Steve laugh for the first time in hours. It’s easy. God, it’s so easy.

“Don’t be so full of yourself.”

“Oh, I’m gonna be full of som—“

Laughing, Steve claps his hand over Eddie’s mouth, shutting him up and revelling in the giggle that follows before Eddie nips on his palm.

“I hate you,” Steve grins, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s middle.

“Yeah, well,” he hums, fond affection settling permanently on that pretty, pretty face. “‘M still gonna put pillows on the wall for you.”

Steve sighs, hoping to relieve some of the intensity he’s feeling. It’s overwhelming, even after all this time.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” Eddie whispers, hovering above him in an almost-kiss. “Endlessly.”

@puppy-steve i love you. i’d put pillows on the wall for you 🤍🌷

🤍 permanent tag list gang (i hope this is okay even though it’s only a tiny thing) (and maybe some reprieve from all my current angst): @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer (lmk if you want on or off)

#steddie fic #steddie #dio words #steve harrington #eddie munson #dio’s steddie ramblings #floor time #<- going back to my OG steddie ways even if it’s only implied #they’re soooo in love smh #cj i’m holding you ily so much i miss talking to you (i just suck) but pls this is for you i hope it makes things better 🥺🤍

[thefreakandthehair]

A Steddie fanfiction. Rated E. 84k.

----

April 1986

“How’re you feeling, Ed?” Steve asks quietly, preserving the stillness of the night that surrounds them. 

“Think I’m alright, a little tired.” Eddie watches the gentle waves that ripple out from his shins kicking softly in the water. It’s been a long day, even he has to admit that, and he’s feeling… well, that’s the end of the sentence. He’s feeling. 

It’s the first time Eddie’s been around everyone all at once since the Upside Down and the kids, they mean well and he knows that, surrounded him with so much love that it’d become overwhelming. So had sitting upright, walking around, talking. The last hour or so, he’d gone ghost— transparent without actually disappearing— and the others followed his lead. Pretend you’ve vanished hard enough and the people around will you pretend, too. Except for Steve, he discovers.

It’s an odd thing though, preferring to be still, to be quiet, and he hates that the Upside Down has stolen this piece of himself, too. Steve’s assured him that it’s okay, that he’ll be his boisterous, loud, antsy self again when his body’s healed but it’s taking too long for Eddie’s liking. Or comfort. 

“You know it's normal, right? It’s a lot, Ed. You didn’t even have to stay out here the whole time, no one would’ve minded or blamed you.” Steve sits next to him, letting his feet slide in beside Eddie’s. Everyone else is inside— kids, parents, everyone who’s made the Harrington House their base while waiting for the government pay-outs and new homes. It’s late now, but Steve and Eddie take advantage of the silence as they so often do. 

“Yeah, yeah I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

Steve nods and lets his pinky touch the edge of Eddie’s, palm down on the cold, wet concrete. 

“You don’t, you’re right. I didn’t either. For what it’s worth though,” Steve takes a breath, thinks about how he wants to word this without making a confession he’s not yet ready for, “I like every version of you.” 

Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest and he watches the ripples from Steve’s legs blend into his. Huh, he thinks, something symbolic there. 

He doesn’t respond, just wraps his pinky around Steve’s. 

Coming soon to ao3: February 1, 6:00PM PST (3:00 PM EST)

Now Posted!

tagging people who've asked or have listened to me ramble on and on for months: @bayouteche @starrystevie @tuvens @rougenancy @ruthofrhythm @toburnup @sparklyslug @justspicysixthings @fruityfour @fruityfourgalore @fastcardotmp3 @flashyysins @stevethehairington @kkpwnall @buckleydiaz @strawberryspence @undreamingscatworld @seidenbros @legitcookie @aringofsalt @patheticgirlsteve @henrystars @sharpbutsoft @nailbatandrobin @harringtonisms @stardustonpages @corrodedcoughin @steddiebf @songbvrd @hexiewrites @courtjestermunson @wroteclassicaly @cheatghost @flowercrowngods @lesstat-de-lioncourt @withacapitalp @newton-pulsifer @quevadilla @strangersatellites @stevesbipanic @wynnyfryd @prettyboyandthemetalhead @gothbat99 @sidekick-hero @stevecarrington @aidaronan @stargyles @bmodiwrites @evergreennwilloww @steves-babysitter @pizzaqueen @ruvina-loz @lallagoupsidedown @phantypurple @counting-dollars-counting-stars @deehellcat @stardustonpages @unclewaynemunson @yournowheregirl @punkharringtxn @babyboyargyle

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #i cannot believe this has a posting date #the art that goes along with it is absolutely STUNNING and i can't wait for you guys to see it!!! #i've been rambling about this to anyone who would listen for months now and i'm just so emotional about it #i quit writing for terrible reasons 7 years ago and now i've written essentially a novel?? #i'm so excited to finally share this and also so so so terrified lmao #(i'd also like to give a little shoutout to dio for talking me out of a spiral like 10 minutes ago about this <333) #myfic #over the hills and far away #if i forgot to tag anyone i'm so sorry

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

here's the first part to a little domestic steddie thing that I don't have a name for yet, but I thought it up last night and couldn't sleep while I started planning it in my head.

highlights will include: friends to lovers, roommates, slice of life, getting together, hispanic!eddie (MY LOVE), i may sprinkle in the fact that Steve is HOH (but I haven't decided if i'd like him to be in this one), and possibly the first smut i'll have ever written 👀

this is just to get my thoughts out so go into this knowing that at Robin and Steve know that Eddie is Gay, Eddie and Steve know that Robin is gay, and only Robin knows that Steve thinks he's bi. You know, classic steddie fic things.

----------

“Okay, you guys, time to head out, no Dustin, you can’t stay the night.”

“Damn, how’d you know? Dustin asks, picking up his bag and shuffling toward the door to get his shoes on.

“Because you always ask.” Will admonishes his friend.

“Exactly. Thank you, Will.”

“I can’t believe the last session is next week.” Lucas says to himself, slipping on his shoes and ducking down quickly to arrange Max’s in front of her so she can get them on. 

“Oh no, what will we do then?” the Max in question snarks back. 

“You don’t even play, you can’t be sarcastic about it.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t be sarcastic about, Wheeler.” Max follows Mike out the door and smacks him in the shin with her cane.

“We will see you tomorrow Steve?” El asks, stopping at his side to look up at him with those curious eyes. 

“Of course, supergirl, it’s the ‘Everything’s Fine’ party.” He grins at her and she smiles back, moving to grab her shoes as well. Steve stops her “Everything is fine, right?”

She stares off into space for just a second, then smiles back up at him. “Yes. I do not feel any of the Upside Down or of One.”

Steve lets out the breath he always holds when he checks with one of what they are now calling “The Wonder Twins”, El and Will. “Thanks, El, sorry to always ask.”

“It is okay, Steve. I don’t mind.”

“Alright you lot, you heard Stevie. ¡Ya deja de chingar! Ándale, ándale!” Eddie yells at the kids, shoo-ing them out the front door and into his van while the other Hellfire guys get into Jeff’s car. They’d officially disbanded Hellfire after everything happened last year, but still meet for D&D (now at Steve’s house) under a still undecided name.

“No need to be rude, Eduardo, we’re going.” Erica taunts him.

Eddie seems to glitch out, “¿Sabes español?”

“Eso si.”

Eddie sucks his teeth, “Dios mio, now I gotta deal with that; alright, lets go, crotch-goblins, gotta get you home. Be back soon, cariño!” He yells to Steve, still on the front step before he points to Erica and shuts the door in her face.

“I still have no idea what he’s calling me. Why don’t you just tell me? You know spanish.” Steve asks Robin as he comes back inside and closes the door.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“You literally translated secret russian code, is that not intruding?”

“Yeah, but like, they don’t matter. Eddie does.” He’s looking at her like she’s crazy. “It feels like spying on a friend.”

“Whatever you say, Buckley.”

“Just ask Eddie to teach you. He could use the practice”

“What do you mean? He’s fluent isn’t he?”

“Well, he really only has Wayne to speak spanish with regularly, sometimes me, but usually it’s english. He could start to lose it.”

“That can happen?”

“Yeah, sometimes. I don’t have many people to talk to in Italian, so that’s my worst language. I used to be fluent in that too but if I don’t use it, I lose it.” she shrugs and Steve takes that in. 

“I just want to know what he’s calling me, it’s not anything bad is it?”

She smiles softly at him, “No Dingus, it’s not bad. Promise.”

They clean up the rest of the stuff lying around from the kids being there, Robin is rambling on about something that happened at her last solo shift at work, and Steve’s trying to contain his nerves.

“Querido, Estoy en casa!” Eddie yells from the doorway when he gets back. “Now what’s this surprise?”

“Let me guess, ‘Honey, I’m home’?” Steve asks, rounding the corner from the kitchen, still drying his hands.

Eddie points at him, “You got it, Querido.” and gives him a wink before waltzing his way into the living room in front of Steve. 

Steve rolls his eyes fondly, and wills the heat that’d crept up on his face from being called ‘Honey’ away while he puts the towel back in the kitchen.

“Okay,” he claps his hands when he walks into the living room, his two friends sitting on the couch in front of him “I have a proposal for you.”

“Oh, Stevie! Of course I’ll marry you!” Eddie jumps up and immediately koalas onto Steve, causing him to take a stabilizing step backward.

“Not that kind of proposal, Eds.” Steve chuckles and goes to unwrap Eddie’s arms and legs from around him.

“So you’re not gonna make an honest woman outta me?” Robin says from the couch as Steve comes around the coffee table, Eddie still latched to his front.

“No, Robs, still not that kind of proposal, sorry.”

Steve finally gets Eddie’s limbs out from around him over the couch so he bounces to a landing on the couch next to Robin.

“That’s bogus..”

“Here.” Steve hands them each a manila folder from the mantle, each one with their name written on it in a thick black marker.

“Okay, here goes. So it’s been a year since Vecna, Will and El both haven’t felt hide nor hair of him since, and since these goddamn events usually happen at least once a year, I think we are in the clear.” He pauses to knock on the wooden coffee table. “So I figure now that Eddie is healed all the way, and he and Wayne are set up well enough again with their hush money, Max is doing pretty good at her physical therapy, the Byers are back in town with a not-dead Hopper….well.”

He gestures to their folders, and they both look down at the same time, like they’d forgotten they were there.

As they open them and start flipping through their stack of papers, Steve continues. “Robin, I know you wanted to take a gap year anyway, so I put down entry for the fall of ‘87 on the applications I sent in, I hope that’s okay.” She looks up at him in shock. “There’s a great International Relations program there too if you want to stay after you get your core classes out of the way? But there are a couple acceptance letters in there so you can take your pick. And I got a job at this little diner nearby to the campus just because I wanted to, but I will pay your way if you want since I’m the one who applied for you so you can just live off your hush money.”

“A-and Eddie, I asked around and there’s a great underground music scene that I think you’d fit right into, and I met a guy named Daryl who was real nice and owned a music shop down the road from the diner who is uhm…something? He wrote “call me” and his number on the flyer he gave me so I feel like it’d maybe be safe for you to work there i-if you wanted to, you know. You could also just live off your hush money. I don’t mind.”

Both of them are stock still and dead quiet. He finally looks down at them on the couch.

Both of their faces are blank, like they don’t know what it is they are supposed to feel, which, Steve supposes, is better than pissed off.

“Oh fuck, this was too much wasn’t it? Sorry, sorry, just pretend I didn’t say anything, I’ll just—“ he reaches for their papers and they both jerk away from him at the same time.

“Fuck off, this is my stack of papers, get your own!” Eddie yells at the same time Robin yells “No! I’m keeping these forever!” and Steve pulls his hands back in surrender.

“You still haven’t gotten to the proposal part, Dingus. What’s going on?”

“Oh! Uhm, I bought a house? In Indianapolis? My parents are staying away after the earthquake, and sold the house so I leave to sign the last papers and get the keys in two weeks. So that means Eddie can finish his D&D thing in time too.”

They’re quiet for a beat again, then Eddie asks “You bought a house?”

“Yeah, with the money I saved up from Scoops and Family Video, plus what my parents would leave..I only had to use a little bit of my government money in the end. It’s not much, and it needs work that’s why I got it as cheap as I did, but it has three bedrooms and two bathrooms, and—actually, I put pictures at the bottom of your stacks if you want to-“

They both shuffle their papers around until they find what they’re looking for. Then immediately look at the others’ like they are comparing notes.

“Robin, that’s the bedroom at the front of the house, it’s got two windows and one has a window seat, so you’ll get plenty of light, and Eddie, your bedroom is the one in the back corner, it’s only got one window but it’s pretty big and I thought that maybe you’d like that one since it just looks out into the woods like yours used to in your trailer. I was going to take the master, but Robin, if you want that instead so you don’t have to share a bathroom with one of us, that’s cool too, I don’t mind.” Steve rushes it all out.

“You want us to move with you?” Eddie’s voice is quiet, eyes wide.

“Uhm, yeah. I do. That’s the proposal. I figured I’d ask you guys to come with. That way we’re out of Hawkins but still close enough if something does happen,” Steve knocks on the coffee table again with two knuckles, “Robin can go to school, and hopefully Indy is far enough out of the way that Eddie can make a clean-ish start?

“And you don’t have to pay rent, It’s all paid for with cash so just maybe buy groceries, or help with the utilities? Or none of it! Like I said, I kinda just thrust this upon you, so no worries if you want to just mooch.” he huffs out a nervous laugh.

Eddie and Robin take a look at each other then Robin is shooting off the couch and (almost tripping) over the coffee table to latch onto Steve

“Of course I’m coming with you, Dingus, we’re two halves of a whole idiot, we gotta stick together.” She unhooks from him and starts wandering away up the stairs, talking about ‘We gotta tell Keith, and my mom is going to be so excited, but she’s definitely going to think I’m pregnant or something,’ like she’s going to pack away her overnight bag from the guest room and be ready to go just like that.

“Eddie? What about you? I get it if you don’t, but like I said, I figured you’d want to get out of here too an–” 

“Joder si, pendejo! I’m not gonna turn down a chance to get the fuck outta here!” He jumps up and crashes into Steve once again, squeezing him tight. “It means a lot that you’d want me to come with, Stevie.” He says quietly over Steve’s shoulder.

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie and stuffs his face into his curls, he smells like cinnamon. “Of course Eddie, anytime.”

Eddie pulls back with a soft smile, and gives Steve a look that makes him want to melt into a puddle. Eddie’s gaze flicks down momentarily, then there's a creak from the stairs and Eddie lets him go, backing towards the door. “I gotta go tell Wayne, he’s really going to be excited for me to get outta his hai–out from under his feet.”

Steve busts out laughing at that “I’m so gonna tell him that you said that.”

“You better not, pendejo, otherwise he’ll kill me dead and you’ll have one less roommate!” then Eddie’s turning and flying out the door to his van, taking off toward his and his uncle's new shared apartment. 

“Okay, that one’s bad.” Robin says when she’s come down the stairs.

“Pendejo?”

“Yeah, it means ‘asshole’.” She laughs at Steve’s hurt expression, “Oh don’t take it too seriously, Dingus, obviously he was saying it in a joking way.”

“I really need to learn spanish.”

---------

I translated the best I could, PLEASE tell me if something is off in translation:

"¡Ya deja de chingar! Ándale, ándale!" - basically, "Stop your bitching! Hurry up!"

“¿Sabes español?” - You know spanish?

"Eso si" - Yes indeed (my husband says this one a lot lmao)

"cariño" - sweetheart

"Dios mio" - oh my god

“Querido, Estoy en casa!” - Honey, I'm home! (Querido meaning honey, darling, love, etc.)

"Joder si, pendejo!" - Fuck yeah, asshole! (said affectionately :) )

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hispanic!eddie #hispanic!eddie munson #robin buckley #the party #st #stranger things #st ficlet #stranger things ficlet #fic #steddie fic #noelle writes

[estrellami-1]

Hey!!! So Steddie first date? Where do you think they would go and what would they do?

*rubs hands together* oh this is good.

Side note: I REALLY wanted to say April 25th. If you understand that, I love you.

Okay so. It kinda depends on who asks who, for me? Like if Eddie asks, he’s gonna take Steve somewhere quiet, intimate, maybe a picnic out by Lover’s Lake or the quarry or something. Or maybe they’d just drive, an hour out of town somewhere, find a nice field and lay there until dark, when day bleeds into twilight and it’s dark enough they can hold hands and light enough there’s that little thrill zinging through them about someone seeing. When twilight bleeds into night and Eddie lets Steve ramble about the stars and constellations, even if Eddie would rather look at Steve.

If Steve asks, I think it could go one of two ways. Or maybe three ways, since I’ve seen a lot of “what would King Steve do,” but. He’s not King Steve anymore. He’s just Steve, and just Steve, I think, would take Eddie out to Indy, maybe a gay bar, maybe a queer bookshop. Maybe neither, maybe he’d find a little shop with D&D things, and tell Eddie to go wild. Or I think he would take Eddie to a concert. Metallica, Dio, Judas Priest… really whoever’s playing close by.

I do think, whatever they do, they’d decide to do something they know the other would like. And they’d have fun because the person they’re there with is having fun, is fucking incandescent with it, and really, what better feeling is there? So Eddie doesn’t care that he’s laying on itchy grass, not when he’s got Steve’s hand in his and Steve’s voice in his ear. Steve doesn’t care that he has to wear earplugs, because Eddie’s practically vibrating with excitement, bouncing around and head-banging and almost falling over with how into it he is, the widest smile on his face as he grabs Steve’s arm and shakes it, just a little, like he’s trying to share his excitement via osmosis.

I think once they’ve been together for a bit, they save those dates for something big. Their dates become Steve surprising Eddie at the Hideout. They become Eddie showing up at Steve’s house with pizza and a movie (and, maybe, a joint or two). They become pillow forts and whispered 2am conversations and sleepy cereal mornings.

But what all those have in common is a kiss.

#this is absolutely just me rambling about my thoughts #and I thank you for it #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #asks #prompts #thank you friend! #starambles

[ablogcalledrevenge]

A Stranger Things Hanukkah Special!

A/N: Happy Hanukkah to all my fellow Jews out there! I’ve been reading so many sweet and lovely Steddie Christmas fics that I felt like contributing myself. I personally headcanon the Byers and Eddie as Jewish, so I wanted to write something festive of my own. I’ll be completely transparent and admit I didn’t actually watch season 4, just got the synopsis from multiple people, but just like OFMD, the Steddie brainrot is real. I hope you like it and may your holidays be full of warmth and love!

Eddie arrived around noon at Steve’s house just before he was about to jump in the shower. He came in holding a bag of onions in one hand and a small sack of potatoes in the other. He also had a backpack that looks full to bursting.

“Good afternoon Mr Harrington. I’ve come to hijack your Christmas party.” Eddie announced, bowing low on Steve’s doorstep. Rolling his eyes fondly, Steve let him in from the cold.

“You’re hijacking my Christmas party?” He deadpanned, watching Eddie unload his things and wash his hands at the sink in the kitchen. There were plain sugar cookies cooling on the counter; Steve was going to let all the kids decorate them during the party.

“Well, I was talking to Jonathan, you know Jonnyboy right Stevie? Anyway, we were talking and he mentioned how much El loves Christmas because it’s still really brand new to her and how Joyce actually started teaching her about Hanukkah back in Cali because the Byers are actually Jewish so El by extension is too. So then I was like, no way I’m Jewish too! I can help you guys celebrate Hanukkah! And then Jonathan was like, oh we should have a Hanukkah party. And then I said, fuck that, let’s just merge with Steve’s.” Eddie rambled, scrubbing at the potatoes while Steve watched, his brain trying to follow the conversation.

“So here you are?” Steve realized, a smile breaking out onto his face.

“So here I am!” Eddie replied, brandishing a potato with a cheeky grin. 

“Well my house is your oyster, so go crazy. I think it’s a great idea. I mean, shit Eddie I didn’t even know you were Jewish! We could have done this from the beginning.” Steve said, feeling a small spike of guilt as he gestured to his kitchen and beyond. 

“No worries Stevie, it’s not a big deal. I’m Jewish on my mom’s side so it’s not like it’s super obvious. Like why give people another reason to target me, y’know? I just think having a Christmas and Hanukkah party would be nice for El, and everyone else. So, I’m making latkes!” He explained, making himself at home in Steve’s kitchen. It made the guilt fade away into something warmer.

“I was actually about to take a shower and then run out to grab a few last minute things. You can use whatever you can find. There are bowls and plates in that cabinet and the cutting boards are in that one under the knife block.” Steve pointed out while Eddie gave him a jaunty salute. 

“No worries, big boy, I got this all under control. “He smiled, whipping out some cassettes from his backpack. Steve chuckled all the way up the stairs, the sound of Dio accompanying his shower.

~~~~~~~~

When Steve came back down the stairs, showered and dressed, the smell of oil and onions greeted him. Eddie had switched the music to something softer, still metal, but softer.

“Almost done?” He asked, startling Eddie in the middle of grating potatoes. The other boy flinched, and gave Steve an unimpressed glare. Then the pain caught up to him.

“Ah shit, cut my finger.” Eddie mumbled, a small dot of blood welling up on his knuckle. Steve sprung into action. He grabbed Eddie’s wrist, bringing his injured finger over to the sink to rinse in cold water. Then he grabbed his kitchen first aid kit, wisely kept under the sink, and dressed the minor wound with neosporin, a dinosaur bandage, and a soft kiss.

“Dinos huh?” Eddie asked, eyebrow raised.

“Oh shut up, it’s for the kids. Are you okay?” Steve shot back, blushing madly once he realized what he did. He was still holding Eddie’s hand as well. For some reason he didn’t want to let go. Not until Eddie assured him he was okay.

“Yeah I’m fine. It’s all part of the process anyway. You’re not making real latkes unless you cry or cut yourself. The blood adds flavor.”

“You got blood in the potatoes?!” Steve yelled, dropping Eddie’s hand and grabbing the bowl. He didn’t see any specks of red…

“Nah, probably not. That’s just an old wives’ saying, you know, to make the kids laugh when they hurt themselves while helping their moms.” Eddie replied, gently bumping his shoulder into Steve’s.

“Right, well, I’m going to head out before you give me a heart attack. Robin and the others should be here soon to finish decorating. I’ll be back in, like, an hour. Maybe a little more.” Steve said, grabbing his coat, scarf, and keys. Winter had officially come to Hawkins and he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Sounds good. Ooh, pick up some sour cream and applesauce while you’re out. We’ll need them for the latkes and you’re fresh out.” Eddie called over his shoulder. 

Steve nodded absently, tugging on his sneakers. Maybe a hat? Nah, he’d already done his hair and he didn’t want to have to do it again. 

He opened the door to a gust of wind that nearly knocked him on his ass, and felt all his hard work go to waste. 

“Hey, hold on. It’s cold out there. I know your hair is, like your thing, but I think protecting your whole head is a little more important.” Eddie teased, carefully placing a black knit hat over Steve’s head. It was the one he’d worn coming in and it smelled a little like tobacco smoke. They were very close and Steve could see the different shades of brown in Eddie’s eyes as he pulled the hat over his ears.

“There we go, nice and warm. See you in a bit.” Eddie said with finality, resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders. Struck with an almost uncontrollable urge to close the distance and kiss Eddie, Steve gave a shaky smile and pulled away. He didn’t look back as he closed the door behind him. The biting cold helped him remember what he needed to do and hopefully, eased the red he knew was on his cheeks.

~~~~~~~~

When Steve returned, bags in his arms, the house was full of light and noise. It seemed like almost everyone had come over during his absence and Eddie’s music had been replaced by the usual Christmas songs. 

Robin bounded over to him, Santa hat resting on her blonde head, and grabbed some of the bags. Then she took off the beanie Eddie had loaned him and replaced it with a Santa hat to match hers. Kissing her cheek in thanks, the two brought everything into the kitchen. One bag, Steve made sure to keep to himself.

Nancy and Jonathan greeted him as they started to empty the bags, putting things away. Eddie was at the stove, hair up in a messy ponytail. He gave a thumbs up when Steve showed him the sour cream and applesauce, lifting a golden brown latke out of the oil and onto a paper towel. 

“It smells great in here. I can’t wait to try them.” Steve said, stepping up close behind Eddie and peering over his shoulder.

“Thanks, it was my mom’s recipe. I’m actually so relieved they’re turning out so great. Last year I didn’t squeeze enough of the water out and they completely fell apart in the oil.”

“Ah rookie mistake but it happens to us all.” Jonathan piped up from his place leaning against the counter.

“Anyone want a beer?” Steve asked, opening his fridge to put away the sour cream. He got yeses from everyone, and pulled out a six pack. Someone screamed in the living room and every adult froze.

Then the sound of laughter reached them and Lucas yelled that El had to warn him before lifting him in the air. The adults in the kitchen relaxed, the fight going out of them like air in a balloon.

“I swear, these kids are gonna make me go grey.” Steve muttered, opening his beer. Once Eddie was done with the stove, he was going to pull out the mulled wine. He figured it would be nice for the older members of the party after dinner.

Dustin entered the kitchen, baseball hat firmly on his head. He was still dressed for the season though, sporting a handmade Christmas sweater that his mom had made him. It was bright red with green christmas trees and candy canes. Claudia had even weaved tinsel into the strands of the trees, making them sparkle. It was very charming and ridiculously ugly and Steve had a matching one upstairs.

“Is it almost time to eat? We finished decorating and I’m hungry.” He pouted, collapsing on the little table in the kitchen like he was too weak to stand. The others laughed.

“You see Eddie? This is your son.” Steve sighed, grabbing the plates and silverware. Eddie in turn, just cackled.

“Here, go make yourself useful and set the table for everyone.” Robin said, pointing to the plates and then to the dining room. Dustin gave a long suffering groan but did as he was told.

“And don’t forget a place for Argyle, he’s on his way.” Nancy called out, perfectly content to stay exactly where she was under Jonathan’s arm. Steve was just about to open his mouth and ask where the dude was, when the doorbell rang.

“I GOT IT!” Mike yelled skidding from the living room to the door in his fluffy socks. 

With the smell of pizza and sugar wafting, Argyle entered. His clothes were colorful and mismatching but still festive and Steve couldn’t help but laugh, his heart filled with that stupid Christmas joy everyone was always talking about.

“I brought the pizza and the jelly doughnuts dudes! So let’s eat, yeah?” He said, Mike leading him into the dining room to put down his boxes. Everyone, having heard his arrival, quickly ran to the table, eagerly awaiting the latkes. 

The adults in the kitchen joined them, leaving Steve and Eddie to each grab a platter. Eddie had the beautiful tower of latkes, while Steve spooned applesauce, sour cream, and jelly into bowls. 

The crowd cheered when the food was finally presented, everyone happily digging in. The quiet lasted for a few moments, everyone focused on putting their plate together and taking first bites. Then it exploded into the noise you’d expect from 7 kids and 6 adults. Heaps of praise were given to Eddie, everyone loving the latkes.

“These are way better than Mom’s.” Will whispered to his brother, causing them both to giggle. 

El asked for maple syrup at one point, which Steve got her, though he was confused.

“They’re pancakes? You eat pancakes with syrup right?” She asked sweetly, drowning said pancakes in it. Eddie laughed and took the syrup from her, adding it to his plate too.

“Right you are Supergirl! You can eat your latkes with whatever you want. I’ve even heard of some people using…” Here he paused for dramatic effect, “ketchup!” 

The whole table groaned as Eddie shuddered.

“Wait, that makes more sense than syrup. You eat French fries with ketchup, so why not latkes. It’s basically the same thing.”

“Try before you deny Steve-o.” Argyle piped up, a smear of sour cream on his chin. 

“Yeah, try before you deny!” El, Mike, and Will parroted back. 

“But it’s not just potato, there’s onion in it and- oh forget it. You guys are weird.” Steve sputtered, shaking his head. Eddie patted his knee under the table in a way that felt both condescending and settling. 

The group resumed eating their latkes and pizza, talking about holiday plans and hopes for the new year. Eddie told the story of Hanukkah as they ate, Jonathan and Will adding bits and pieces randomly. Someone, maybe Nancy, had lit candles in the middle of the table, giving the whole room a soft glow.

Steve glanced over at Robin sitting next to him, laughing at a barb Erica made towards Lucas, pizza grease on her fingers. Then he looked at Dustin, smiling wide, pearls on full display, while Max whispered something in El’s ear, the girl nodding in agreement. Finally he turned to Eddie on his other side, cutting up a latke and dipping it in syrup with a big smile on his face. He had taken his hair out of the ponytail from earlier and now it hung around his head in soft waves.

Steve wanted to do this every year. He wanted to do it every day. He wanted to do this with Eddie.

~~~~~~~~

Latkes and pizza eaten, the Party had migrated into the living room for presents and dessert. Steve was warming up the mulled wine when Eddie bounded in, looking for his backpack. 

“I figure we can light the menorah and then open presents. It’s dark enough that it’ll look really nice next to the tree.” He explained, pulling out a box of candles.

“Oh wait, don’t move, I’ll be right back!” Steve said, running up the stairs to his bedroom where he’d stashed the last bag from today. He ran back down, almost out of breath from how fast he moved and presented the bag to Eddie.

Looking confused and a little worried, Eddie opened the bag and pulled out a pretty gold candle holder. 

“It’s a menorah! I got it for you, for Hanukkah. I mean, I got you another present for Christmas but I felt bad that you weren’t getting anything for your holiday so I found it at the store and thought you’d like it. Do you like it?” Steve said, feeling his nerves creeping up on him. 

Eddie hadn’t moved, or changed his expression. He just stared down at his present in shock. 

“Oh fuck, I messed up, didn’t I? You hate it? I wasn’t supposed to get that for you, I was overstepping. You probably have a super nice one and I’m being rude. You can return it, I think the receipt’s in the bag…” He rambled, feeling more and more like Robin with every passing moment. What the hell, he used to be smooth! But instead he could feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as Eddie put down the candle holder and stepped closer to Steve. Shit, he was gonna get punched now.

But instead, Eddie gently grabbed his face, stopping the rant mid word and kissed him.

All of Steve’s thoughts froze dead in their tracks. Luckily his body seemed to pick up the pace faster than Steve, because after a moment of surprise, his arms came to wrap around Eddie’s shoulders. He didn’t know why Eddie was kissing him, but he’d be damned if he didn’t make the most of it.

Eventually, oxygen became important and they had to break apart. Eddie was flushed, smiling brightly. Steve knew he had a similar dopey look on his face.

“That’s not a menorah.” Eddie whispered, kissing Steve again all soft and sweet.

“It’s not? But it has the spots for your candles.” He pointed out, pulling away from Eddie to grab it. Laughing quietly, Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, resting a chin on his shoulder from behind.

“A menorah for Hanukkah needs 9 spots. One for each night and one for the helper candle, called a shamash. This one only has 6 but it’s beautiful and I appreciate the gesture. It means a lot that you wanted to get me something for Hanukkah.” Eddie said, kissing Steve’s cheek as he slumped against him.

“Well shit. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, giving said candle holder a glare. Eddie shook his head and turned Steve around.

“Nah, it’s perfect. It came from you and I love it.”

Steve leaned forward to kiss him again, feeling drunk with joy, when Robin’s voice echoed into the kitchen. 

“Hey what’s the hold up? The kids wanna open presents!”

Steve and Eddie laughed and unhappily pulled themselves apart. Eddie grabbed an actual menorah from his backpack and went into the living room while Steve poured out wine for everyone. They had candles to light and presents to open!

~~~~~~~~

Once everyone was in the living room and huddled around the fireplace mantle, they began. Jonathan pulled out a bag of yarmulkes, saved by Joyce over the years, for the boys to wear if they wanted. Steve got a gold satin one with the inscription Sammy and Ellen, A Golden Anniversary 1980. He hoped it brought him luck. Dustin put his on top of his baseball hat. (”It’s a gift from Suzie, I can’t take it off!”)

Eddie, Jonathan,  and Will said the prayers while lighting the candles, El and Nancy shakily following along. The sound was beautiful with all the different voices coming together. The prayer didn’t seem too complicated and it had a pretty rhythm. Eddie’s pinky brushed against Steve’s and linked for a moment which was probably Steve’s favorite part.

Candles lit and tree turned on, the kids flopped onto the floor to exchange presents. Steve may have gone a bit overboard this year, but the various squeals of delight made the hole in his wallet worth it. 

They drank the wine and ate the doughnuts, sufganiyot was what Eddie called it, as Will explained dreidel to them. 

“I’m not so sure this is a good idea. You guys can get pretty competitive...” Nancy said, looking wary.

“It’s not a competition if you know you’re gonna win.” Max scoffed, flicking her red hair over her shoulder. This started a lively debate about if dreidel was anything more than a game of chance. Eddie passed out gelt, one of which Argyle immediately unwrapped and ate. Considering there were so many of them, teams were picked.

Jonathan and Nancy. Will and Lucas. El and Max. Robin and Steve. Dustin and Mike. Eddie, Erica, and Argyle as the true wildcard team.

“You guys are going down!” Robin shouted, pointing at every other team.

“Oh please, like I’m going to lose to you. You still owe me ice cream.” Erica shot back, crossing her little arms across her chest.

They played for a good amount of time, Steve paying little attention to the clock on the wall. The candles in Eddie’s menorah slowly burned down as the Christmas lights twinkled. 

Finally, after much hemming and hawing and claims of cheating, one team stood victorious. 

El and Max sat behind the largest pile of gelt, smiling widely and looking very smug. Eddie proclaimed them the winners and scooped Max up, Jonathan following with El, and paraded them around the living room to cheers from their adoring fans.

Someone turned the radio back on, Christmas music playing quietly under the conversations. Steve, pressed up tight against Eddie on the couch, couldn’t remember a more enjoyable Christmas. Normally he’d spend the season alone, his parents coming home on the 25th to exchange gifts and then flit off to some fancy party. He’d gotten offers to spend the day with others, Robin and Dustin and his old friends, but he turned them down. He hated feeling like the odd man out. 

But now, with everyone in his home, warm and safe and happy, that feeling was gone. He was with his family, one that he had found and loved all by himself.

Plus Eddie, smelling like powdered sugar, oil, cinnamon, smoke, and all of Steve’s dreams rolled into one. Plus Eddie, who shared his heritage with all of them. Plus Eddie, who kissed him in the kitchen with the promise of more.

Finishing his cup of wine, Eddie leaned forward to place it on the coffee table, before laying back against the couch. His arm came up to wrap around Steve’s shoulders with a contented sigh. Steve mimicked the sound and snuggled deeper into the couch and Eddie.

Robin caught his eye and raised her eyebrow. Steve flushed and used their best friend/platonic soulmate mind reading powers to tell her they’d talk about it tomorrow. She gave the two of them a long, searching look, but apparently happy with what she saw, turned back to her conversation with Nancy.

~~~~~~~~

Much later, when everyone had left and the house was empty, Steve and Eddie cleaned up. They threw away wrapping paper and pizza boxes, picking up balls of metal gelt wrappers to toss as well. Eddie cleaned up the oil and the leftover potatoes. Steve boxed up food for Wayne and Keith, hoping to get in good with both. It was especially important now that he had a boyfriend.

Wait, did he?

“Does Hanukkah have any other traditions that we didn’t do?” He asked abruptly. Eddie wiped down the stovetop and made a noncommittal noise, focused on a stubborn grease mark.

“Like Christmas has tons of random traditions, does Hanukkah have those too?” He continued, resting his hands on his hips.

“Um well, I guess maybe if you’re Sephardic or from a completely different country. But as far as I know, we basically did everything for Hanukkah. We’re done for the night. Why? Was there something else you wanted to do?” Eddie asked, throwing out the paper towel.

“Well I wanted to know if Hanukkah had anything like mistletoe. I like mistletoe.” Steve whispered, suddenly embarrassed.

“I literally kissed you a few hours ago, you don’t need mistletoe if you want to do that again.” Eddie laughed, taking a step closer to Steve. 

“Yeah but it’s more romantic that way. Like I could kiss you”, which Steve did, “and then ask if you wanted to be my boyfriend. That would be so festive and romantic.”

Eddie sputtered and rested his head on Steve’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his bare neck. 

“I don’t know. What you just did there was pretty romantic. Consider me wooed. Also yes, of course. I’ve been crushing on you since the moment you found me in the boathouse.” He admitted in the quiet of the kitchen. Steve’s heat soared and he lifted Eddie’s head to kiss him again.

“Happy Hanukkah Eddie. I had a really nice time tonight.”

“Happy Hanukkah Steve. Nes gadol haya poh.”

~~~~~~~~

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #happy hanukkah!! #this is unbeta'd so forgive any mistakes #jewish eddie munson

[flowercrowngods]

Steve startles awake, disoriented and filled with a slight bout of panic — as always when he takes a nap that turns into five hours of deep sleep and catapults him right into the next dimension for a while there.

Heart racing, he blinks his dark bedroom into existence, and it takes him a while to realise where he is and what woke him up.

And then the landline phone on his nightstand rings again, and he exhales deeply before reaching for it with clumsy, sluggish movements.

“‘Ello?”

“Steve,” comes Eddie’s sing-song voice from the other end, washing over Steve in a soothing way that leaves him falling back into the pillows. He clutches the phone to his ear as he closes his eyes, the smile already forming at how happy Eddie sounds. He rarely sings Steve’s name like that. He should do it more often.

“Hi there.” His voice sounds like shit. Like he just took a — Jesus Christ, has it really been four hours? Well. He sounds exactly like someone who took a four-hour nap after a shit day at work would sound like.

There’s fumbling on the other end, but it stops suddenly. “Did I wake you? Shit man, I thought it was past nap time.”

“I don’t have nap time,” Steve grumbles, actually pouting at Eddie’s words and realising only a second too late how ridiculous he sounds.

“Sure, man, whatever you say. We all know you’re actually just a life-sized toddler.”

Steve sputters, sitting up against his headboard as he gradually wakes up. “Hey! Also, I don’t think you actually understand what life-sized means.”

“Yes, I do.”

Steve shakes his head at this ridiculous, ridiculous man. “What exactly do you think a non-life-sized toddler looks like, Eduardissimo?”

“Like Dustin.”

The answer is so quick and deadpan, Steve cannot contain the laugh that bursts out of him, waking him up quicker and gentler than anything else in the world could have, and he revels in the sound of Eddie joining him. He must look so smug right now, and so damn proud of himself. Steve wants to see him. Wants to kiss that smile right from his lips and replace it with something a lot more genuine.

“You’re an asshole,” he says instead, pulling his blanket further around him as he lifts his knees to sit more comfortably.

Eddie hums, still teasing somehow with just that noise, and Steve just can’t stop smiling. “You like me so much, Harrington.”

“Hmm,” he mirrors Eddie’s hum, but even he can hear the smile on his face. “Jury’s still out on that one, actually.”

“Any tendencies yet on the verdict?”

“Nope, they can’t decide.”

Eddie snorts at that, and Steve has no idea how that can sound so sweet. But it does. He buries his smile in his knees for a bit, the blanket hot around his burning cheeks. He’s hopeless.

“Well, let me know as soon as they do, yeah?”

“Will do,” he laughs, ruining all his attempts to sound solemn. “So what’s up? Why’d you call?”

“Oh!” And suddenly it’s like a switch has been flipped and Eddie doesn’t sound teasing and smug anymore, but instead just fucking giddy! “I have a bed now!”

Steve smiles at it. At that voice, that tone, that infectious emotion. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” More fumbling on the other end, and Steve can only imagine that Eddie is rolling around in his newly acquired bed.

Who’s the life-sized toddler now, hm?

“No more sleeping on the floor for this Munson boy, nuh-uh, my good sir! We are in possession of a bed now. A wooden bed, no fancy headboard or anything, just…”

“Just a bed,” Steve says, feeling like he’s about to burst into a million little particles of fondness and affection and the never-ending need to kiss Eddie. To hold him. To touch him in any way he can. “That’s great, Edsie.”

“It is, Stevesie.”

“Man, I hate you so much,” Steve squints at the ceiling and laughs, actually kicking his feet, the minute breeze providing a little relief for the heat in his face.

And Eddie has no business to sound so smug when he says, “Yeah, you do.”

A pause then, and it feels loaded even through the phone. Steve clutches it closer to his face, hoping stupidly that Eddie can feel it.

“You should come hate me in my new bed.”

Steve’s breath hitches, and his brain shuts off for a hot second there. Before he can overthink this, he decides to just… play along. And listen to what his heart has been telling him for months now.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, breathless still, but his whole body tingles with just these two words. With the possibility they bring. The offer that they are. The question. The everything that’s stored in them.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and he sounds just as breathless. “I mean, if— If you want to?”

“I do.” Steve swallows. “Right, uh— Right now?”

“Whenever.” And it sounds more like an As soon as possible.

“Okay,” Steve breathes, scrambling out of bed as quickly as possible, pulling off his shirt with the phone still pressed to his ear, letting out an embarrassing noise as it gets tangled in a mess of cord and fabric. He scrambles to free it, almost dropping it in the process. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

“To come look at my new bed?”

“Sure.”

On the other end, Eddie laughs again, but he still sounds just as breathless as Steve does. Just as excited. As fragile. Just as many fucking things.

“Alright,” Eddie murmurs, though Steve can still hear the smile. “I’ll see you then.”

And then he hangs up before either of them can get lost in their own heads about this sudden certainty of change. Steve is grateful for the steady noise of the dial tone reminding him that this is happening. But that nothing has to happen.

It’s a nice bed, he finds hours later, fingers combing through Eddie’s hair who’s cuddling him half asleep. It’s the best fucking bed he’s ever seen, if only because it led to this.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 (lmk if you want on or off)

#listen i have a bed now. assembled it yesterday (actually my brother did i just stood there and looked cute) #and i’m so happy and schmoopy (@myself for myself with myself by myself) about it #steddie fic #steddie #steve x eddie #dio’s steddie ramblings #look yet more fluff from me like wow who dis??? #dio words #i feel so anxious about the permanent tag list like do yall even wanna see silly little things like this 😭😭🙏

[flowercrowngods]

a tiny thing for @eddiemonth day 06: crush & sincere

“I will crush you beneath my heel like vermin.”

Like thunder, the evil wizard’s voice rolls over the battlefield, leaving fear in the heart of everyone who’s alive enough to hear it and rattling the bones of those who aren’t.

Men and women alike, soldiers and knights and able bodied young men, watch with bated breath as Sir Steven, the bravest of them all, rises to his feet again beside the black-clad wizard, his grip on his trusty sword never wavering as he wipes blood and sweat from his face.

There he stands, heroic as ever, meeting the evil wizard’s eyes with a heated glare of his own.

“Try,” he says, standing his ground as his voice, too, is carried over the battlefield. Carried, indeed, for the wind blows in his favour, the sun shines only for him, and the ground beneath his feet holds him up like a trusted friend, a most beloved brother.

Sir Steven reaches towards his neck, feeling the band of leather against overheated skin, a charm resting just above his heart — right where it belongs.

The wizard doesn’t have what he has.

***

A soft chuckle abruptly changes the scenery and rips Eddie into a different world once more; sun glazed battlefields replaced with the darkness of his room, hard soil replaced with the softness of his bed, and a knight turns into a beautiful boy wearing his favourite shirt.

“A magic used guitar pick necklace? Is that what the evil wizard king doesn’t have?”

Steve’s eyes are closed but the smile on his lips shines bright, and Eddie can’t even be mad about the interruption. He reaches out a hand and trails his fingers through Steve’s hair, gently combing back the locks sticking to his sweaty forehead. The smile dims a little, turning into something more genuine.

“I can’t believe you interrupted me at the best part there, Stevie. I was going to make a heroic entrance as a dragon shifter, called to the knight simply by touching the charm.” He keeps up his slow and gentle caresses, his hands trialing down to Steve’s cheeks and neck, where Eddie’s necklace clings to overheated skin indeed. “It means a lot, you know, a charm like that.”

Steve hums, moving closer to Eddie, seeking his warmth and his touch alike, and Eddie can’t possibly refuse him.

“It could save the world, you mean?”

“Hmm. The world. A young boy’s heart. And everything in between.”

Steve blindly reaches for Eddie’s hand and brushes a kiss to his knuckles, and another for good measure.

There’s a weight to their words that’s not meant for moments like this, but it hangs in the air nonetheless, and Eddie breathes it in. The weight of a past survived and a future acknowledging that. Both of them shared like this moment. A promise.

“So what happens next? With Sir Steven and the evil wizard, and with Eddie the dragon shifter. That’s very fitting, by the way, you little hoarder,” Steve laughs, still keeping his eyes closed, and Eddie can’t help but join in, overwhelmed with affection for this boy.

This sunshine boy who’s having a bad day and a fever but still manages to be the most radiant thing in the world. This wonderful boy who asked Eddie to stay and tell him a story until he falls asleep.

“Don’t feel good? Do you wanna stay in bed, baby?”

“Yeah. Can you stay?”

“Of course. Cuddles?”

“Could you maybe… Could you tell me a story?

“I’ll tell you any story you want, sunshine.”

This incredible, insufferable boy who’s too nosy and too sassy for his own good, interrupting Eddie here and there to ask questions or give a snarky little comment that’s dripping with fondness whether he’ll admit it or not.

This boy. His boy. With the smile and the wild bed head and the insistent tug on Eddie’s hand to tell him what happens next.

And so Eddie continues his story about the evil wizard being defeated and the world celebrating the heroics of the knight and his dragon and their unlikely band of friends. If he adds a little Lord of the Rings imagery here and there, Steve won’t know about it anyway.

Before he reaches the end, Steve’s hand goes slack where it’s tangled with Eddie’s, and his breath evens out, the smile never quite fading from his lips. Eddie keeps talking, though his voice is hushed now and thick with a smile of his own now.

He loves him. God, he loves him so, so much, he can barely stand it.

“Good night, Stevie,” he whispers even though it’s barely three in the afternoon. He gets up and out of bed, tucking the blanket around Steve’s sleeping form and brushing one more kiss to his hair before sneaking out of the room on slow, quiet steps.

Outside, Wayne is reading a book on the porch, a cigarette in his hand. Eddie snatches one from the pack and leans over his old man to brush a kiss to his hair, too, feeling far too full of affection right now and needing to let it out. There is a sincerity inside him that needs to be shared.

Wayne lets out a gruff kind of hum, but Eddie isn’t so easily fooled, smiling as he lights his cig.

“How’s your boy?” Wayne asks.

“Asleep for now.”

“Good.” There’s a moment of silence between them and Eddie closes his eyes against the afternoon sun for a moment, drawn back to his story. “You let me know if he needs anything.”

“Of course. Thanks, Wayne.”

“Sure. Just wouldn’t wanna be crushed like vermin, is all.”

The laugh bubbles out of Eddie before he can help it, sincerity replaced by something lighter, something manageable for now as he lets his uncle bully him for telling ridiculous stories to the boy he loves so endlessly.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddiemonth #let them be soft your honour #dio words #a ridiculous little thing for my soft boys #eddie’s necklace saved the world bc he gave it to steve before the final battle telling him ‘i’m gonna need that back when it’s all over’ #and steve replied with ‘it’s a date munson.’ #dio’s steddie ramblings

[flowercrowngods]

thoughts thoughts thoughts i apologise it’s 2am i have to sorry @babyboymunson

Steve knows that Eddie has a whole library of characters. And when he says library, that’s not an understatement; because Eddie has a lot of them, and he keeps all his characters sheets incredibly organised. Even those for the NPCs.

He claims not to have favourites because, “They’re all my badass little idiot children, Stevie, don’t make me choose.”

So Steve doesn’t.

But the thing is, Steve has never been above choosing a favourite badass little idiot child — sure, it might have changed daily with the kids, but still! He has a favourite character of Eddie’s. One who survived the campaign, actually, to everyone’s utter disbelief both past and present.

It’s one of Eddie’s first, from before he started taking on the role as Dungeon Master more often than that of a player.

And when Steve first finds out about the character, reads his character sheet and sees the art Eddie had made for him, that is when he knows: one day he’ll find a way to marry this blushing disaster boy.

Sir Gonthar Veten, a human paladin with high charisma and uncharacteristically low strength, laughably low intelligence but hey, respectable wisdom modifier. “A bit of a wild card,” as Eddie has put it, pulling his hair in front of his face to hide his little smile or the absolutely besotted expression.

It doesn’t take him too long to find out that Gonthar is essentially based on him, and even his name is an anagram. Oh, Eddie had it bad! He teases him mercilessly, but they both know that’s Steve’s way of saying, “You nerd, you absolute nerd, I can’t believe it took me so long, but know that you’re the love of my life, too.”

So, in 1983, Eddie has a crush on Steve and is so mad about it, he made a DnD character about it.

In 1986, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time inside his new government-sponsored trailer and begins what will be the rest of his life.

In 2006, Steve buys Eddie a star for their anniversary, and Eddie laughs through the veil of tears when he sees what Steve named it.

“Sir Gonthar Veten,” he reads, grin so wide that it has to hurt. “Can’t believe you went and named a star after yourself, Stevie.”

“Yeah,” Steve laughs, stepping into Eddie’s space and pulling him close. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I did, Munson.”

“You’re so lame,” Eddie sniffles, and it’s the happiest little sound. “Thank you.”

Steve brushes a kiss to his forehead, his temple, his cheek, and finally his lips. “Happy anniversary, Eddie.”

#steddie #steddie fic #this is like all over the place but i just had to get the concept out someone else can go make it good and better #just eddie having an unattainable crush on steve and projecting onto dnd like we all don’t do the same with our blorbos okay #they’re in love your honour #dio words #buying stars probably wasn’t even a thing in 1996 but let me have this #nvm i made it 2006 now but like i’ll give this proper thought when it’s not 2:30am #dio’s steddie ramblings

[flowercrowngods]

Who even writes letters anymore?

It feels a little ridiculous, interrupting the process of baring his heart and soul to the paper, the pen, and the walls of his room, to ponder the frequency of the hand-written word. It makes him falter, though, the sentence half finished on the paper before him, his desk lit only with candles because it’s two on the morning and long past the time for any kind of lamps, desk and ceiling alike.

Who even writes letters anymore? Letters like this, somewhere between a confession of love and an apology. Emotions that don’t do well, being said out loud, and that do even worse in a text message.

The written word, ink on blank sheets of paper, weeks and months old and nowhere near finished yet, was invented for situations like this. For feelings like this.

For Steve. For Eddie. For Steve and Eddie.

The eternal What If. The little lump in his heart that feels so real even though it can’t be. The thought in the back of his mind, a calling presence that is imaginary at best. The vision of a future that is no more than wishful thinking.

And thinking, he does. Oh, does he think. And always, always about Eddie.

Eddie, who wasn’t brave enough to love him, and whom Steve never gave the space to be. Eddie, who did love him, but showed it in different ways than Steve was used to. And when he realised, when he recognised, it was all in hindsight.

They were both too scared. Twice. Scared and stupid and—

But Steve’s not scared now. It’s late, he knows, and it might be too late.

It’s fine if it’s too late, he writes, and he means it. But I want you to know. I need you to know. I want to be brave, and I‘d rather be brave too late than not at all.

There is no filter, he finds. The ink unforgiving and unjudgmental alike, guiding his hand across the page from one word to the next, until suddenly there are six of them, and Steve could keep going forever.

I want to love you. I think I want to love you, not just the idea of you. I want to give you the space you need and learn to love and be loved. I want to do it right. I want to take your hand and hold it. I spend days just thinking about holding your hand. Holding you.

It’s not a love letter. He doesn’t even mean to send it, just wants to get it all out and not have his friends tell him it’s a bad idea, tell him Eddie doesn’t deserve him, Eddie’s not right for him.

Steve doesn’t believe that.

He just wants a chance. A conversation. They never really talked — not the first time, and not four years later. He wants a real chance this time, wants to be brave and talk and see.

And he wants to give Eddie a chance, too. A chance to mess up, a chance to speak, a chance to be brave and talk and see for himself, and a chance, maybe, to try again.

For real this time.

So he writes the letter; doesn’t care if people even do this anymore. He does. For Eddie. That feels like it’s all that matters.

He ends the letter at the bottom of page six.

I’m not writing you because I want to get back with you. I’m writing because I need you to know that I can’t stop thinking about you. And because I want to talk. A lot. And because I think they’re all wrong.

And I’m writing because I spent the party last weekend looking for you, hoping to see you. My friend told me to finish this letter and send it if you mean so much. And you do. Endlessly.

But it’s okay if all this is one-sided. It’s okay if you don’t even read until this point. It’s okay if it’s too late.

Steve

He takes it with him the next day, just on a whim, not entirely sure if he’s gonna send it or throw it in the trash, the coil in his stomach lightened since the last word’s been written.

In the end, he misses his train back home and has to take the long way with the bus that’ll only take him halfway there. He decides to walk the rest, taking a detour and passing Eddie’s apartment building.

He finds the name Munson on the doorbell nameplate outside. He stares at the door, the drizzle picking up until it’s pouring, and still Steve is staring.

He tries the front door. Another whim. It’s not supposed to open. Someone unhooked the latch. It gives in to Steve’s gentle push, and warmth envelops him as he suddenly finds himself face to face with Eddie’s mailbox.

The letter is in his bag. Secure. Heavy.

His heart, however, is light as he fishes it out and slips it past the lid, the thump as it gently hits the bottom the only sound in the universe.

Outside, the rain is pouring.

Inside, Steve’s heart lies in Eddie’s mailbox.

#steddie fic #steddie #steddie drabble #dio words #they’re not even words i just needed to project #this is different from my usual style but that’s fine too it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense anyway i just needed to get it out #dio’s steddie ramblings

[flowercrowngods]

Steve can’t breathe anymore. Not around Eddie. Not when he looks like that, completely at ease, cigarette between his lips, smoke in his face and in his hair, eyes closed. Allowing Steve to look. To stare. To see.

Allowing him to feel the way his heart picks up its rapid beat against his rib cage, to feel the lump forming in his throat, and that tingling sensation to travel from his fingertips to his palm where he imagines touching his hand to Eddie’s face, tucking that one stubborn strand of hair behind his ear, and then keep it there. His hand against Eddie’s cheek. Thumb stroking gentle patterns until Eddie’s eyes catch his, catch the meaning behind his stare, behind the way he can’t look away, can never look away, and—

Lean in. Lean his forehead against Eddie’s. Breathe him in. Inch closer, torturously slow but clear in his intention. Smile before he even gets there, before he feels those lips agains his own, claiming them in a kiss.

No, not claiming. Asking. Offering. Treasuring.

It makes him tingle, that thought. That all-encompassing thought that keeps him from sleeping, keeps him from focusing at work, keeps him even from listening to Eddie’s words right now. Those lips are moving, spreading into a grin and then a laugh, and—

“Steve.”

He blinks out of his love-crazed stupor and looks at a beautiful, smiling, delighted Eddie. Steve wants to trace that smile with his lips.

“Hm?”

Eddie blows out the smoke and smiles impossibly wider. “What is it, huh? What’s got you looking like that?”

Don’t you know? Can’t you see? Aren’t I the most obvious person on this planet? Won’t you see me?

“Nothing,” he rasps, falling back onto the grass, looking up at the purple sky above them.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make him talk like he usually would. He just takes another drag of his cigarette, and hums, looking up as well — allowing Steve to watch again. He always does that. He never looks back. Never looks at Steve like that.

Won’t you see me?

Steve wants to reach out. Eddie’s ankle is right there, his chin resting on his knee, looking like he’s in deep thought. Or just serene. Either way, completely oblivious to the yearning that tears Steve in half and makes him want to wrap his hand around Eddie’s foot. Just to touch. Just to be there.

But he can’t.

He can’t.

And maybe there’s nothing to see anyway. He exhales, wishing for his feelings to disappear right along with the air in his lungs.

But they don’t. They won’t. They can’t.

#steddie #steddie fic #is this another yearning hours??? inspired by the 1975’s fallingforyou? it’s more likely than you think #its 2am i don’t know what this is #dio words #dio’s steddie ramblings

[flowercrowngods]

the prompt: rest | rating: G | cw: non-explicit trauma-related insomnia

The steady thrum of the engine is like gentle white noise that not only fills Eddie’s head and smoothes out the frayed edges of consciousness, but runs through his whole body as a comforting presence. It spreads from the hands holding the wheel in a loose, easy grip up his arms and to his shoulders, down his chest where it settles in his gut. That feeling of belonging, of comfort, of familiarity. It leaves him with a smile as he shifts the gear, accelerating a little on the open street.

No one else is out here tonight, and there’s no destination ahead, but his goal has long since been reached.

Part of him wants to roll down the window to feel the breeze in his hair, allow November in just for five minutes, just for the duration of this next song.

Hey, little girl, is your daddy home? Did he go and leave you all alone?

But he won’t, because this moment is not his.

He glances over to the side, catches the split second where the passing street lights make Steve glow golden, his breath even, his face relaxed. His eyes closed, his forehead void of pained frowns. He’s been asleep for an hour.

It mends something inside him, seeing Steve like this, but something splinters all the same.

“What do you need? What can I give you? Please, Steve, you need to sleep. You deserve to rest.”

He remembers asking, tears welling up in his eyes and desperation clawing at his insides, clawing to get out and tear at Steve, tear at him to find out what it is that Eddie can do.

“Can we just— Drive? For a while?”

“Where to?”

“Nowhere, just… Might help.”

And it did. It does.

It’s been a few months now, and sometimes it’s Wayne who takes Steve — or both of them — on a ride to lull him to sleep with a steady engine and a tape that Vecna never touched.

And every time, Steve wakes the second the car stops. But it’s fine, because he’ll smile, he’ll say, “Thank you”, he’ll say, “I love you,” and he’ll lie on Eddie’s chest for the rest of the night, listening to the steady thrum of his heart while Eddie hums a quiet melody until Steve is asleep again.

written for @steddiemicrofic, dedicated to @auroraplume because i can 🤍🌷

#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #steddie microfic #hi reese this is for you idk #🤍 #i wish i could enjoy car rides again. especially at night and with music. unfortunately my intrusive thoughts get in the way #they get really really bad and i don’t wanna watch people die anymore but the concept is still nice so here 🥺 #dio words #dio’s steddie ramblings

[flowercrowngods]

oooohhh liminal spaces my beloved,,,,

I would LOVE to see you write number 3 (moving out and checking your now bare rooms if you left anything, either it be materials or memories) with Steddie!

klausi! 🥰🤍 thank you for indulging me, beloved! this got a little too introspective and too projecting but oh well

no. 3 — when you're moving out of a house and checking your room when it's almost or completely empty and sorted out

It takes him a while to realise what that feeling is that overcomes him; what to call that weight that’s been so firmly lodged inside his chest that he feels like his steps and movements have actually slowed down lately.

A lump in his throat and a heaviness in his bones is not necessarily new in this house, not a new sensation to feel within these walls, reinforced day by day, morning by morning, night by awful night.

But now, seeing it like this, there is a new emotion. A new heaviness. And Steve takes it all in as he lets his gaze roam over the empty floor, still dirty and dusty because he hasn’t the strength or the energy to clean it all again. He takes in the walls, splotched with light and shadow and the echo of pictures and posters that hung there for years, leaving behind only a trace of their shape on the wallpaper, untouched by sunlight for years.

They’re spectres of who Steve used to be. Spectres of versions of him — genuine and pretend alike.

He stares at the spot where a picture frame hung for as long as he can remember, just a tad off centre from the plaid wallpaper in a way that never ceased to make Robin complain.

He wonders, staring still, if he will hang up the picture frame again in his new place. If it will be off centre again, just for Robin. Just for a reason to smile. If he will keep that version of him, or if it will stay behind as a spectre within these walls, too.

One last victim for them. One last thing for them to take.

It’s a silly thought. Dramatic, really.

Just as dramatic as Robin, who refused to come upstairs with jim again for one last check, claiming If I go upstairs with you again and have to deal with your melancholy face, Steven, I will actually burn this place to the ground.

She’d flicked her Zippo at him in a way that was almost cool, and it almost made him tear up right then and there.

He will hang up that frame again. Maybe replace the picture, take one of Robin with her Zippo, put it right above the front door, just a little to the left.

Steve‘s eyes begin to sting as he tries to take a deep breath, tries not to give the awful wallpaper its old power back, tries not to feel so small. So big. So displaced.

His knees buckle at the same time as his resolve does, and he sits down on the floor, the plush carpet a familiar sensation against his palm.

He hates this room. He’s going to miss it so much. It was his prison. It was his sanctuary. It was never his, and yet he hates the idea of it becoming someone else’s. Nothing good happened between these walls. Every happy memory he has are linked to them. He is a stranger to this room. It knows his every secret.

He wants to burn this place to the ground and leave and never return. He wants to sit here forever and watch the discolouration deepen.

He wants this place to be his home. And yet he knows it never will be. He doesn’t know if he can make a home.

A tear runs down his face, and he doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s relief. Maybe it’s regret. Maybe it’s grief, or overwhelm; or maybe it’s all of them and more.

There is a knock, gentle and careful, sounding against the door frame. It has never been tapped like that. Will it know such gentleness again?

“There you are,” Eddie says, lingering behind Steve, his steps not approaching. Not encroaching upon Steve and his heavy little moment.

He wipes at his face and turns around, flashing what must be a pathetic rendition of a smile.

“Yeah, I’m here, just…” He clears his throat. “Just checking, y’know?”

Eddie smiles, kind and patient, like he sees right through him. “Checking and getting stuck, hm? Happens to me all the time.”

Steve shrugs.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure. I’m done anyway.”

Eddie hums, murmuring something that sounds a lot like No, you’re not. And Steve sags into Eddie as soon as he comes to a stop beside him, leaning against his leg and feeling the soft fabric of Eddie’s worn denim against his cheek. Like this, his head is at the perfect height for Eddie to run his fingers through his hair.

“You wanna talk about it? Or just sit in silence ‘til getting up is an option again?”

Steve doesn’t say anything, too focused on feeling all these things that the emptiness of his childhood bedroom makes him feel. All that fear, all that relief, all that anxiety and the nervousness and the excitement and the freedom and the yearning. For a home.

For picture frames off centre, for candles and fairy lights not just around Christmastime, for dinner with friends and finding that you don’t have enough dishes yet for everyone and then just eating stew out of a mug when all the bowls are gone already. Late night dancing and conversations and singing not just in the shower, arranging and rearranging a room until it’s just right and realising that a year or two has passed already and you’ve still not changed the makeshift lightbulbs in the hallway.

He wants a home. And he wants to make it, to create it, to build it from nothing but hope, love, and just enough craziness to not give up after the first failed attempt.

“Hey,” Eddie says at some point, and Steve didn’t realise there are more tears now until Eddie’s wiping them from his face, the warmth against Steve’s cheek gone now; replaced by the sleeves of Eddie’s hoodie. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

And he does. Steve falls forward now, into Eddie’s arms, and clings to him.

“I wanna make a home.”

“You’re gonna make a home, sweet thing.”

“But what if I can’t? What if it’s always gonna be like this?” Steve pulls back, wiping at his face, looking at Eddie now, whose hands are now in Steve’s lap, keeping him so, so warm. “So full of… nothingness and regret and just. Just empty.”

Eddie smiles and leans forward, his nose almost touching Steve’s. “You’re the least empty person I know, Stevie. You’re moving in with Robbie! That place is gonna be a home the moment you two set foot in it. And then we’re gonna paint your walls, we’re gonna go to the hardware store seven times a day because you two suck at decision making, but it’s okay, because it’s a process. And you’re gonna be so, so good at it. And you’re gonna have a home, okay? You’re gonna make it. Build it. Create it. And you get to start over and over and over until it’s right.”

Eddie’s hands have found their way into Steve’s hair again, lightly scratching at his scalp in soothing circles.

“And you know what’s best about homes?”

Steve shakes his head, hanging on Eddie’s lips and his words and all of his warmth.

“They’re a community effort. Meaning you have us to help you. You ain’t gotta do it alone. Robbie and I are gonna build your home just as much as you will, yeah? And we’re gonna be so annoying about it.” He ends his little speech with a manic little grin that never fails to get a laugh out of Steve, even if this one’s a little watery.

He breathes a little, and sighs at last, the tears finally stopping. “Do you really mean that?”

“What that I’m gonna be so annoying?”

“No, that one I know,” Steve grins, and Eddie cackles at that, leaning in to kiss him on the nose. “No, I mean… Do you really think I can do this?”

Eddie’s expression sobers into something more genuine. “I do. If there’s anyone who can make a home, it’s my boy Steve fucking Harrington. And do you wanna know why?”

He nods.

“Because you’re my home.”

The smile he gives Eddie before closing the gap between them for a proper kiss is one that these walls have never seen before.

The afternoon sun comes streaming in through the windows one last time just as Steve gets up, pulled into Eddie’s arms. It leaves the room tinged in gold for Steve one last time.

It’s goodbye. It’s farewell. It’s Steve, moving on.

🌷🤍 the prompt list

#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #liminal steddie #dio words #i had a bad day. i’m scared i can’t make a home on my own. have some projections #it’s been a while since i wrote anything my head is too full sorry guys :( #dio’s steddie ramblings

[flowercrowngods]

the prompt: pool | rating: G | cw: none as per popular request: yearning (requited)

Ripples of light dance across his skin in hues of silver and blue and Steve wonders if Eddie knows how it steals his breath, how it makes him want to trail the light’s path from Eddie’s chest up to his cheeks where the tiniest of smiles leaves dimples that have become so achingly familiar these days.

It leaves him jealous, for just a second, the way that the light is allowed to touch Eddie so intimately. The way it gets to make him look like that.

It leaves Steve with that familiar ache in his chest, reminding him that he doesn't know Eddie like that. No matter how often he dreams it up, no matter how many times Eddie occupies his every waking thought to the point where they have entire conversations that will never happen.

It leaves him aching with the need to touch, to feel, to taste. And, most pressingly, to tell.

You're beautiful. You're captivating. You're everything.

The words rest on the tip of his tongue even now, in the deepest part of the night where silence reigns, allowing even terrified boys to rest their minds — but not their hearts. Not their needs. Not their skin tingling with phantom touch that they keep dreaming up night after night after night.

Steve swallows and tears his eyes away from the droplets of water that drip down the curled ends of Eddie’s hair, landing on his chest, his legs, or the pool beneath him. He doesn’t make it far, though, captivated instead by hooded eyes that refuse to look away once their gazes lock.

Cool water lapping at the skin of his legs where he's sitting on the edge of the pool is the only thing that keeps him anchored as Eddie looks at him like that across the water that separates them.

Water, and a plethora of words unsaid, silent confessions in the deepest night that feel like so much more than wishful thinking right now.

Especially when Eddie's smile widens, painted with a silver brush that catches every droplet as though they were stars and Eddie the night sky.

"I could stay here forever," he sighs, his exhale gentle and heavy at the same time.

Steve wants to sink into the pool, wants the cold water to surround him and clear his head, wash away the aching, the yearning, the words on the tip of his tongue.

Tell me, then. Tell me how I get you to stay.

"You can," is all he says, the water rippling in time with his rapidly beating heart.

"Yeah? Willing to keep me, Stevie?"

When Steve nods, breathless, Eddie's silver-streaked smile widens.

🌷written for @steddiemicrofic

#steddiemicroficjuly #steddie fic #steddie #dio words #steddie microfic #i hope it’s yearning (requited) enough for you #dio’s steddie ramblings

[flowercrowngods]

Oooooh how about 27 for the Spotify drabble thingo?? 💖💖

Acting Normal | steddie, slight canon divergence

Steve is leaning against his Beemer in the parking lot, smoking one last cigarette before he can no longer avoid the inevitability of first period on a Monday morning. That shit never gets easier.

He looks up at the sky, watching as the sun breaks through the clouds, painting everything in golden and orange light. Last night's rain long beaten, though the humidity's still in the air, refreshing and smelling like childhood, somehow.

It's a beautiful day. Shame to waste it in school.

He takes another drag from his cig before dropping it and stubbing it out on the concrete. There are steps approaching and the smile is on Steve's face before he can fight it. He doesn't want to fight it, actually. Doesn't even try.

"Hey Stevie," Eddie Munson says, his forearms pressed to the hood of his car, almost leaning into Steve's space. Steve leans back as he blows out the last of the smoke, eyes still on the sky.

"Morning Eds."

They've become friends, somehow. It's odd, but it works. It works wonderfully. The same way a golden sky can make a Monday morning bearable, the same way memories of rain hanging in the air can smell like childhood. Some things just work. This thing between him and Eddie is one of those.

"I have a proposal," Eddie declares, and Steve huffs.

"Can I say no?"

"Well, you could, Steve-o, but then you'd be missing out and I'd be telling you all about it for the rest of my life, and this day would go into the history books as The Day Steve Missed Out On All The Fun. And do you seriously want to give all those historians another reason to question life in the late 20th century, Stevie? Do you?"

Steve leans further back onto the hood of his car, his forearms resting beside Eddie's now and they're close, so close, he feels dizzy with it for a moment. He bumps their shoulders together and huffs.

"You're ridiculous, Eddie."

"Astute observation, my liege," Eddie says and Steve can hear the grin on his face. It's one of the reason this thing works. Steve can hear Eddie's smiles and Eddie can hear Steve's frowns, and they listen.

Maybe that is why he decides to indulge. "So what are you proposing, good sir?"

"Skip school with me. It's a beautiful day, right? Shame to waste it in school."

Steve smiles, because yes, yes it is. He smiles and he doesn't say no, only leans there, beside Eddie, still watching the sun and her clouds, feeling a certain connection to them in this moment. Because Eddie is the sun sometimes, even though he'll disagree. And Steve is the air that smells like rain sometimes.

"What do you wanna do? Or, what would we do?" he asks, his voice quiet, more a musing than anything else, but Eddie is smiling again. Steve can hear it in the way he breathes and leans his head against Steve's shoulder for a second, leaving sparks in his wake.

"See what life is like outside of school on Monday morning," Eddie says, painting a picture in Steve's mind. "Get ice cream, go to the record store and listen to music, make music, watch people doing their jobs and feel both jealous and glad that we can't be in their shoes yet. Smoke." His voice shifts then, the smile changing. "Dream, Stevie. Dream about life and stop acting normal. That's what we'd be doing."

His heart is doing the skippy thing again. The thing it always does when Eddie tells him to dream in that voice, like he knows, like he can hear that, too.

He hopes that this time, dreaming can mean that Eddie will lean in and kiss him again. Hopes that Eddie will talk about his band again, about how he's gonna be a rockstar, about how he'll annoy Steve with extra shitty lyrics for the rest of their lives.

"Okay," he breathes, and turns his face to look at Eddie for the first time this morning. "Let's go then."

actually, this is a really fucking Eddie song, lyric-wise. he would make an exception from all the metal for this song, i'm sure. I am seriously surprised this song is only number 27. gah. I love it. thank you for the prompt!! also go give the blackstarkids some love, they deserve more recognition! 🫶

#steddie fic #steddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #i am feeling delirious and a bit ridiculous I think the cold has reached my brain. alas. the worms have company 😔 #god this is way too poetic for this song I just wanted to write school skipping shenanigans but look at Steve being emo #HELP WHY IS THIS SO... FLOATY? Steve is floating. good for him honestly #this is somewhere between yearning and established relationship huh #dio words #prompt fill #spotify wrapped #dio’s steddie ramblings

[flowercrowngods]

saw you in a dream

in which Steve only sees Eddie in his dreams anymore. it isnt't the same but it is enough. | cw: mcd, kinda heavy angst if you're susceptible

It has been months. They won. They won. But, oh, how they've lost.

It doesn't feel real. Eddie Munson is gone, died months ago, died a hero, died for them. Dead. Irrevocably, irretrievably, undoubtedly.

But for Steve, death has never felt less real. He's clinging to the idea of Eddie, of who he was, of what they could have been. He sees the last smile he gave him in the reflection of every window at night, but when he turns around, Eddie isn't there, isn't smiling beside him, a pet name on his lips, wonderment in his kind eyes, entire worlds in his eyes as he's looking at Steve.

Eddie isn't there when he sees a shadow in his lonely, empty, gigantic house, isn't singing along to whatever song is playing. And oh, are they playing. There is always music now because Steve doesn't want the silence, doesn't want to think, doesn't want to admit that all those songs about lost love and heartache make him think even more.

Steve is drowning in it all. Because Eddie isn't here. And he never will be.

It doesn't help (except it does) that Steve dreams of him sometimes. No nightmares, no horrific death over and over again in the Upside Down. He doesn't watch Eddie play his guitar heroically, doesn't watch him be attacked by those beasts, doesn't see him covered in blood and relief that it's over and regret that it's really over.

No. When he sees Eddie, he sees his smile. He's pretty. So pretty. The same as he was that very first and last day that Steve saw him, and Steve just spends the entire dream staring at him, at this pretty vision, the sweetest apparition. He listens to Eddie laugh at something, feels him take his hand and drag him to whatever world he has made up in his head.

The dreams of Eddie are almost worse than the nightmares, because they end and Steve doesn't want them to. He can't switch off. He can't stop thinking about Eddie, can't stop seeing him everywhere he goes, can't stop yearning for him, can't stop the way his heart skips a beat at every curly-haired brunet in a denim jacket before they inevitably turn out to be someone else. Anyone else. Never Eddie.

Never.

Every time, Steve wonders if he'll dream of Eddie again. He hopes so. He's afraid all the same, because he can't switch off. He can't switch off.

It isn't the same, but it is enough. It has to be.

It's enough.

Until it isn't.

Because Eddie doesn't visit him in his dreams anymore. It's been four years since Vecna. Every shrink will tell him, has told him, that this is a good thing. He's letting go. He's healing.

But that doesn't make him cry any less. It doesn't make him feel any less lonely, it doesn't make his heart lighter.

Because when he had nothing, he had this. When he had the entire world on his shoulders, pressing down on his chest at night so much that he forgot how to breathe, he had this. He had Eddie. He used to have Eddie.

But Eddie doesn't come to visit anymore.

And Steve only has his thoughts, his yearning and his everlasting hope to spot him somewhere. Grief, he knows. There are fancy words for every human emotion, clinical terms for everything wrong with him, he knows them all. But this is deeper.

And when he stops dreaming of Eddie at night, he starts dreaming of him during the days. And he's still so pretty, still so alive, still smiling. So different from everything Steve has become.

He dreams of Eddie when he stops eating, stops answering calls, stops changing the batteries, stops fighting.

It isn't the same, but it is enough.

for @mcuxwaititi who requested number 69 on the spotify prompt challenge. I saw what you did there. but I had to deliver some angst, I am not sorry 🫶

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie whump #mcd #stranger things #dio words #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #so many tags sorry #so much angst whoops #does this make sense? prolly not but it's nice to be busy hehe #dio’s steddie ramblings

[flowercrowngods]

For the spotify number challenge: felt like the proper Eddie way to do it. Gay dice say 51

A/N: kdfhjd bless you for this omg. you were already my favourite but damn, this is a very Eddie move and I am kissing your hands very gently 🫶🤍

Alan Walker – Alone (2016) 

In which Steve learns that sometimes, being there for someone means that they can be there for you, too. | 702 words of h/c

Steve took one look at Eddie in that hospital bed after the end of everything and decided that Eddie Munson wouldn’t have to go through it alone. Through all the trauma, the bad dreams, the insomnia, the crippling fear of opening your closet and finding it has become another gate into the Upside Down. Eddie – pale, vulnerable Eddie who looked so vulnerable and small in the too white, too glaring hospital bed – wouldn’t have to be alone. Not if Steve had any say in it. Which he did, because he could be as stubborn as any mother. 

“Hey, buddy,” he had whispered to Eddie as he woke up. It was the middle of the night and Steve was the only one here. “Hey.” He took Eddie’s hand in his, wrapped them around it to warm Eddie up. “You’re safe, Eddie. They’re fine, they’re okay. You saved them. All of them. You’re a hero, okay?” 

Eddie’s eyes drooped then, and Steve smiled, held onto his hand and squeezed. 

“You get so sleep now, Eds. I’ll be here when you wake up. You won’t be alone, I promise.” 

He watched as the boy fell asleep and his heart ached. So did his entire body, but that was to be expected when several pounds of skin and flesh were suddenly missing. Eddie held onto his hand even in sleep and Steve didn’t have the heart to make him let go. So he grabbed the pillow he’d been given by one of the kinder nurses and settled on the floor beside Eddie’s bed, leaning against the wall, careful not to dislodge any of the machinery beeping and moaning and groaning way too loud in a constant reminder of what they’d endured. 

Steve fell asleep with Eddie’s hand in his for the first time in that hospital room. 

**

You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here for you. If you ever need someone, you know how to reach me, yeah? If you need a change of scenery, my door is always open for you, Munson. 

It becomes a theme. Steve is very aware that his offers, his promises, become pleas at some point. He doesn’t know when, he doesn’t know how. But sometimes, when he tells Eddie to come over when he can’t sleep, to call when he needs to, to show up whenever, he knows he is secretly hoping that Eddie will come, that Eddie will be there. Because Steve is tired of being alone. 

And Steve is tired, period, because he can’t fall asleep without thinking of Eddie’s hand in his anymore. Just something to hold onto, something to focus on when he’s yearning for darkness but ultimately still too afraid of it to turn off the lights. 

And the crazy thing? Eddie takes him up on his offers after a while. Eddie finds the pleas, digs them out of the depths of Steve’s heart and cradles them like they’re something precious. Eddie holds him like he’s precious. He comes over in the middle of the night, lets himself into Steve’s house and walks up the stairs silently, takes off his shoes in Steve’s room and joins him in bed. Not to do anything other than be there, be here, just be.

Not alone, Steve thinks as he reaches for Eddie’s hand, the pain in his throat fading to a bearable level as their fingers slot together. 

“Am I losing my mind?” they both ask at some point. Many, many times. Neither of them knows the answer to this, because a No feels too definitive, and Yes feels too real, so they let the question hang in the air above them, between them. If they are, then at least their lost minds won’t be alone either. 

They’ve got each other. 

Neither of them is ready to let go. Neither of them has to. The nights don’t last forever, neither do the nightmares or the shaking breaths they leave them with. 

But what does last forever is the feeling of Eddie’s hand in his, or the kiss he gets when Steve asks, pleas, begs, in a voiceless whisper, “Never let me go.” 

“Never.” 

And it’s a promise. 

#steddie fic #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #dio words #look idk what this is but 'alone' always puts me into a very special headspace so. have this #dio’s steddie ramblings