#guidance counselor steve harrington

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 5

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“Stevie?”

Eddie’s voice was soft, just like his lap. His hands were soft too. His hair was probably soft, but Steve wasn’t allowed to move, so he couldn’t touch.

He could see it though, hanging just above his face as Eddie looked down at him with a soft smile.

Soft.

“There you are, sunshine.”

Steve could feel himself smiling, but couldn’t find words. That was okay though; Eddie was still running his fingers along his face, and as long as Eddie was touching him like that, he didn’t have to speak.

“Feeling okay? You can nod or shake your head.”

Steve nodded. Of course he felt okay. He felt great.

“Good boy. Keep looking at me, Stevie. Gonna sit you up now.”

“Comfy.”

Oh, so he could speak, he just couldn’t think about it beforehand. Interesting.

Eddie was laughing quietly above him, and wow, his laugh was nice.

Then, Steve was sitting up and Eddie was no longer above him, and he didn’t like that one bit.

He made sure to let Eddie know in the only way he could in the moment: whining. He felt his bottom lip jut out.

“None of that, sunshine. You’ve been so good for me.” Eddie was wrapping his arm around his shoulders, guiding him into his side, but it wasn’t the same and it wasn’t what he wanted. “C’mon, Stevie. I’m still right here.”

He was. He was so warm next to him. Steve turned his head to the right, hiding his face in Eddie’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of his laundry detergent and cologne on his shirt.

“There you go. Just relax for a few minutes like this. I’ve got water right here when you’re ready.”

Steve was suddenly very aware of himself. It was like a switch was flipped and the air was moving around him again, and it was cold.

He couldn’t stop the full body shiver, but Eddie quickly wrapped his other arm around him and pulled him up and over so Steve was straddling his lap.

Steve curled against his chest, hands tucked under his chin, focusing on the way Eddie’s hands rubbed up and down his back to warm him up.

It was working, but slowly, and Steve didn’t want to leave the coziness of Eddie’s lap until he was sure that he wouldn’t start shivering again.

Was this normal?

Eddie was humming something, he could feel it against his ear. Like the first time.

He couldn’t recognize the melody, but it calmed him. Within a couple of minutes, he felt almost normal, though still like he was coming back to Earth slowly.

“You need to take a few sips of water.”

“Mkay.”

Steve sat back, glad he could at least move on his own now, and took the bottled water from Eddie. The cap had already been removed, but Steve didn’t have time to think about it or thank Eddie for doing it before he spilled the water down his front.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Hold on.” Eddie took the bottle of water from him, but instead of putting the cap on, he held it up to Steve’s lips. “Sip.”

Steve sipped. Eddie was careful not to tip it too much, waiting patiently between sips for Steve to nod that he was ready for another one.

After almost half the bottle was gone, Eddie pulled it away and screwed the cap back on, setting it to the side of them. He wiped a drop of water from the corner of Steve’s mouth, ignoring the way Steve slumped forward at the tender touch.

“Think you can make it to the bedroom to change?”

“Mhm.”

Eddie helped him up slowly, not even laughing when Steve stumbled like a baby deer right into his chest. He just wrapped his arms around him and slowly moved him backwards towards the room.

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“This normal?”

“What part?”

“All of it.”

“Yeah, it can be. You go pretty deep, sunshine. Takes a lot more to get you out of it.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Eddie froze and tugged Steve’s face up to look at him, his index finger and thumb holding his chin still, mouth slightly open.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes.”

“And did it help you?”

Help him? He took a quick inventory of his body, finding it relaxed despite their efforts of moving to the bedroom. His mind was still pretty quiet despite having to answer Eddie’s questions.

“Yes.”

“Then you shouldn’t be sorry.”

“Did good?”

“You did amazing, sunshine.”

Steve let the pride in Eddie’s voice wash over him, a warmth spreading through his chest.

He did good.

He basked in the fluttery feeling overtaking him, smiling when Eddie smiled, letting Eddie guide him to the bedroom.

“You’re so sweet like this, Stevie. Don’t know why you pretend to be so grumpy.”

That was a sobering thought.

He didn’t pretend to be grumpy. He just wasn’t usually outwardly happy or bubbly.

But he wasn’t pretending to feel happy and light now. He was just relaxed, and he felt comfortable showing Eddie this side of him.

“Just a joke, sweet thing. I like grumpy you just as much as floaty you.”

“Mean.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, but he was still smiling.

“You think I’m mean?”

Steve nodded.

“I think you’re trying to rile me up.”

Steve nodded.

“You’re gonna be a handful, sunshine.”

Steve took both of Eddie’s hands in his, placing them on his face and holding them there.

“This is a handful,” Steve said more seriously than he expected to be able to.

Eddie let out a bark of a laugh then leaned down to place a soft kiss to Steve’s forehead. Steve closed his eyes and hummed in contentment.

“This is precious,” Eddie said more seriously than Steve was expecting.

He felt himself blush, heat rising to his cheeks so quickly he was sure Eddie would get burned by it.

Eddie’s thumbs brushed across his cheeks, making Steve’s blush worse instead of better.

No one had ever been this careful with him, this loving. It was scary to let himself enjoy it, but Eddie made it easy. He made Steve feel like he was the most important person in his world, and they’d just met.

“Bedroom, sunshine.”

“Mkay.”

Steve let Eddie wrap an arm around his waist and guide him the rest of the way to his bedroom. He let Eddie guide him to the bed, standing at the side and watching as Eddie moved his bag to the floor so he could sit down.

“I’m grabbing you clothes from my closet, okay?”

“Okay.”

He was going to wear Eddie’s clothes. This night couldn’t possibly get better.

But Eddie had to stop touching Steve to walk to his closet, and it maybe wasn’t worth it. Steve let out a quiet whine, but Eddie heard it and turned back to him with a small frown.

“20 seconds. Start counting for me.”

“1…2…” Eddie was already at the closet door. “5…6…7…” Eddie was holding sweatpants and searching through some things hanging up. “12…13…”

Eddie was standing in front of him.

“Do you want me to let you get dressed alone, stay next to you, or help?”

“Help? Please?”

Steve knew he could have done it himself, with or without Eddie nearby. He knew he wanted Eddie to take care of him, though.

He helped him undress, not letting his hands linger even though Steve wished they would. He wanted those hands on every inch of him, not even for sex, just to feel tethered here, solid. To know that Eddie wanted to touch him everywhere. To keep feeling cherished the way he had when Eddie’s fingers were in his hair on the couch.

But he knew this wasn’t the time. Deep down he knew it. On the surface, he knew he was pouting again.

He was stumbling through getting changed, his body still a bit off-kilter and shaky.

He felt like he was on the edge of a cliff and Eddie was holding onto him with a rope, tugging him back anytime he got too close to the edge.

When he was finally in sweatpants and one of Eddie’s shirts, he looked at Eddie, who was apparently remaining shirtless, for further directions.

“We’re gonna cuddle for a bit, then I can sleep somewhere else if you want.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Eddie laughed. “Get in the bed, then.”

Steve did without argument. The bed was insanely cozy, and smelled so much like Eddie, he could probably close his eyes and assume he was already under the blankets with him.

He didn’t have to though; Eddie’s body was wrapping around him from behind, his arm finding a resting place along his waist, lips settling against his neck. His breath ghosted across his hairline, making Steve giggle and curl away just a little.

“Sorry, sweet thing.”

“Like that one.”

“What? Sweet thing?”

“Mhm.”

He let out a yawn before Eddie could respond.

“Close your eyes, sweet thing. I’ve got you. Your alarm is set for work and I’ll be right here.”

Steve felt a kiss against his neck, then his shoulder, then nothing at all as he drifted to sleep.

– – – – – – – – – – – - – -

The alarm going off was probably the worst thing to ever happen to Steve.

Mondays were never this hard.

But he was in Eddie’s arms, warm, safe, content. How could he get up and go to work?

Eddie groaned when Steve didn’t immediately shut off the alarm.

“Too early.”

Steve laughed.

He was feeling a bit more present. Aware. Ugh.

He could see what Eddie meant by getting addicted to subspace; Who wouldn’t love not having to think or feel anything except pleasure?

“Is it okay if I use your shower?” Steve asked as he turned towards Eddie.

Eddie was face down in his pillow, hair splayed out and messy, tattoo-covered back exposed to the room. His arms had already moved under his pillow as soon as Steve sat up.

How was he gonna leave this bed?

“Yeah, towels are under the sink.”

“Thanks, babe.”

He froze.

His first reaction to his own words was to run, which was stupid because Eddie calls him all kinds of things and doesn’t think it’s weird.

His second reaction was to start having a panic attack because the last thing he needed was for Eddie to think of him the way so many people had before: clingy.

He was too much. He was too fast. He was too committed.

He was ready to be in a relationship after one date, and while he didn’t apologize for it, he also wasn’t proud of it. If there was such a thing as the opposite of commitment issues, he had that.

He felt hands on his face, but he couldn’t breathe. Everything around him was dark, his chest was heavy, his head was pounding. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his own racing heart.

His throat was dry.

His vision was going black.

He felt lips on his forehead, then his cheeks, his nose.

Light started to creep back in. His heart rate slowed, his breaths got easier to take in.

He could see Eddie now, right in front of him, holding his face in his hands and talking.

What was he saying?

“…my sunshine. C’mon sweetheart. Deep breaths.”

Oh.

He was being so nice.

Of course he is, dumbass. He’s been nothing but nice to you this whole time.

“That’s it. You’re doing so good, sunshine. Come back to me.”

Steve collapsed against Eddie’s chest, which was quickly becoming a habit he wasn’t sure he would ever want to break. Eddie’s chest was nice.

“Are you gonna be okay to shower?”

“I didn’t mean to say that, I’m sorry.”

“Say what?”

“I called you babe.”

“Am I not a babe? Be careful how you answer, I’m very sensitive about my looks.”

Steve pulled away to see Eddie smirking at him, which helped him calm down even more. Eddie wouldn’t be looking at him like that if he’d fucked everything up. He probably wouldn’t let him use his shower either.

“You’re definitely a babe,” Steve said quietly, trying to hide as much of the fondness he felt as he could, but knowing he was failing by the way Eddie’s face melted.

“Want me to sit outside the shower or is that too much?”

“No, please. Please.”

He always set his alarm earlier than he really needed so he could take his time in the mornings. If he rushed, he felt like his whole day sucked. He did the mental calculations he needed to figure out how long he had in the shower and got up to get started.

Eddie followed along, though he grabbed a small blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders on his way.

Eddie’s bathroom was nice. Not too big, not too small, a large window looking into the backyard providing enough natural light to keep the lights off. His shower was large, taking up most of the space. It had built-in shelves on the wall and a bench to sit on. It looked like somewhere he wanted to spend more than the 10 minutes it would take to wash his body and hair.

Maybe next time.

He didn’t pay much attention to Eddie sitting on the counter as he got undressed and into the warm water.

He groaned.

“This water pressure is incredible.”

“It’s pretty great.”

Steve reached over and grabbed the first soap he saw, a coconut body bar. Eddie didn’t smell like coconut, at least not that Steve had noticed, so maybe he didn’t use it often.

As he lathered up, Eddie started speaking.

“Listen, I know you freaked out about what you called me. It’s okay if you didn’t actually mean to say it. Mornings after subspace can be kind of cloudy so I won’t hold you to it, alright?”

Steve let the water run over his back as he took in what Eddie was saying.

“And I won’t just not keep doing this, ya know? Like that kind of slip up isn’t gonna stop me from helping you out. I think you trust me and that’s really important and I wouldn’t want you to feel like you have to find someone else who you might not trust to do this. I can-”

“Eds, please stop talking.”

Steve wiped his hand across the glass door of the shower so he could see more than just the outline of Eddie.

“Come here.”

Steve wasn’t thinking about the fact that he was naked, wet, and still had to get to work. He was thinking about how mad he would be at himself if he didn’t say what he was thinking. Maybe he just needed to be clingy. Maybe he could be too much and Eddie would think it was just right.

Eddie was standing outside the shower door, his face close enough to Steve’s that he could smile at him through the glass and actually see him.

“I did mean it. I freaked because I didn’t want you to freak out. I’m known for moving too fast and I didn’t want to lose you yet.”

“Stevie…”

“Come in here.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have work.”

“I can be late. My first appointment isn’t until 10.”

Eddie sighed, but Steve knew he was gonna win. He stepped back and continued lathering up with soap, only pausing when Eddie was opening the shower door.

He didn’t think much about the fact that they were both naked in front of each other for the first time. He didn’t think about how difficult it would be to leave now. He didn’t think about how much he wanted Eddie’s hands all over him.

He didn’t think about anything except how it felt to have Eddie’s eyes on him.

“How are you so perfect?”

Steve blushed down to his toes. How was he supposed to handle this attention?

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do. Can I wash your hair, sunshine?”

Steve’s eyes fluttered closed as he nodded.

Eddie didn’t waste any time guiding him under the stream of water, gently pushing his hair back and tilting his head so all of it got wet.

His hands were strong but gentle, and he was using just enough pressure for Steve to feel grounded. He was pulled forward, his body aligning with Eddie’s front so he could scrub his hair and scalp.

He felt good.

This was a different good though. Not like how he felt last night when he floated. Not even like how he felt in bed with Eddie after.

This was just…content.

He’d never really felt content before Eddie.

“We never talked about aftercare. I just kind of did it,” Eddie said as he leaned Steve back under the water to rinse his hair.

“Mm?”

“Did you like what I did for you?”

“Yeah. Liked the water and touch and cuddling.”

“That’s good. We can do that if it works. Aftercare may be more intense if the scene is more intense, so we’ll talk about that beforehand.”

“Mkay.”

“Sunshine, you can’t float away now.”

“I know. Not floating. Just relaxed.”

“Okay, sweet thing.”

Eddie placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Time to get out, anyways. I’m sure your hair takes a while.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”

“Ohhhh nothing,” Eddie said with a smirk, reaching behind Steve to turn off the water.

This was the first time Steve ever showered with someone and sex wasn’t involved. It was nice. It was building on that content feeling that he was still a little afraid to feel.

Steve let Eddie wrap him in a towel, but when he checked the time, he decided he didn’t really want to be late.

Eddie couldn’t help but watch in the mirror as he hurried through blow drying his hair and brushing his teeth.

“I thought you didn’t mind being late?”

“I don’t really, but Will is my first appointment today and I want to make sure I can completely focus on it.”

“Will is…”

“Tattoo designer.”

“Ah. Well, let me get you a tea and bagel to go then.”

“You don’t have to do that. The lounge always has something for the teachers. Plus I keep snacks in my office.”

Eddie kissed his cheek.

“I want to. Let me take care of you, sunshine.”

Who was Steve to deny him that?

“Okay then.”

When Steve managed to leave the bathroom, fully ready for the day, Eddie was walking into the bedroom with a to-go mug and bagel wrapped in a paper towel.

“Here ya go, sunshine. Blueberry with cream cheese and a green tea with honey.”

“A guy could get used to this.”

“Maybe a guy should.”

Oh, fuck.

“I kinda don’t wanna go.”

“You have to.” Eddie brushed a fallen piece of hair from his forehead. “But I have a rule for you today.”

“A rule?”

“Yep. Text check in at lunch and again when you’re home from work. Just to make sure you’re doing okay and not having a delayed drop. Think you can do that for me?”

“Yeah. Can I see you later?”

Eddie hit his lip, possibly trying to find a reason to let Steve down gently.

Was this finally the moment he cut Steve off?

“How about this? You call me at lunch and we talk about it then? I’ve got an appointment at 4 that may be a few hours so I’m not sure if I can make tonight work.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“We’ll talk at lunch.” Eddie placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “You did good for me, sunshine. Don’t forget about my rule.”

Steve let those words play in his head as he walked out the door to his car.

He didn’t even think about the bag he was leaving behind.

— — — — — — — — — — — —

“Will! Come in!”

Will was still shy, even after nearly a year of weekly visits and lunches spent in his office.

This was something they were working on; His ability to come out of his shell a bit more in public without the fear of people judging him.

“Hi Mr. H.”

“Dude! Heard you got an A on the big art project. That’s awesome! Can’t wait to see it.”

“It’s hanging in the art room for the next week if you stop by. Like, if it’s not out of your way.”

“I’ll stop by on my way to lunch.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool.”

Will was smiling at him. A real, genuine, actual smile.

He so rarely did that, Steve couldn’t help but beam back at him.

“So before we get started today, I have a surprise.”

“A surprise?”

Steve had made sure he’d cleaned and moisturized the tattoo before he got here so it would look its best for Will.

Will took a seat and waited patiently, hands folded in his lap while Steve started to roll up his sleeves.

“So you remember that sun you drew for me?”

“I think so? From when you were sick.”

“Yep, that’s the one.” Steve let his wrist rest against his desk while he spoke, ignoring the way his hands were shaking with nerves. “So that meant a lot to me. And I know you were just doodling, but to me it was beautifully done. I love it a lot.”

“Okay…” Will nodded along, not sure where Steve was going with this.

“So because it means so much, I decided to get it tattooed.”

He flipped his wrist face up, pushing it across the desk so Will could see.

Will was silent. Steve wasn’t too worried, he figured this would be the reaction he got.

But it went on for a while, and Steve was starting to get worried that Will didn’t like it or thought it was weird.

Finally, Will spoke, his voice shaking.

“You got it tattooed?”

“Yeah, bud. I did.”

“You like it that much?”

“I love it. It reminds me that the sun is still shining even when it doesn’t seem bright. It reminds me of how people depend on me. And it reminds me of my favorite student and artist.”

Will was crying.

Oh, dammit.

If Will cried, Steve knew he would.

There go the tears.

Steve got up from his chair and moved to kneel in front of Will, who was frantically wiping the tears from his face and apologizing for crying.

“Hey, don’t apologize. Remember we talked about letting your feelings out even if it means crying?” Steve smiled at him. “Is it okay?”

“Can I look closer?”

Steve held his wrist out so Will could look at it close up. He’d spent a lot of time staring at it since Saturday night, and Eddie had done an incredible job with it. The shading between colors made it look like Will had painted it directly on his skin.

He couldn’t have asked for better and he hoped Will agreed.

“It’s beautiful. I can’t believe you got this done.”

“Is that good disbelief or you’re gonna call your mom and get me fired disbelief?”

Will let out a loud laugh before he made eye contact with Steve.

“It’s really good, Mr. H.”

“Good.” Steve stood back up and sat in the chair next to him so they could actually start their appointment. “So. Let’s get to the good stuff.”

— — — — — — — — —

When Steve called Eddie on his lunch break, he was feeling a bit jittery. He wasn’t dropping, but he knew his adrenaline crash from showing Will his tattoo was coming.

“Hey, sunshine.”

Steve relaxed into his chair, letting a long breath out.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Doing alright?”

“Yeah. Overwhelming day.”

“Will like the tattoo?”

Steve smiled to himself. Eddie remembered his name.

“Yeah, he loved it. He cried and said it was beautiful. He asked about you a bit. Told him maybe you could draw him a D&D thing when you have time.”

Eddie was so excited about that, he started to ramble about ideas as Steve settled back in his chair and listened, endeared at how much Eddie was already committing to it.

“Stevie?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry I got a little carried away. Uh.” He let out an awkward laugh. “I wanted to talk more about tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Mhm. I believe you wanted to see me again.”

“Yeah but I don’t wanna pressure you or anything. I know it’s a lot. I’m a lot. I can wait.”

“You’re not and it’s not. I want to see you. I just don’t want you to have to wait on my appointment.”

“I can just stop by the shop and say hi. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing.”

Steve felt how ridiculous he sounded, how disappointed he was to have to settle for a stop at Eddie’s shop to say hi when what he really wanted was to spend hours in the shower with him. Or in bed. Or the couch.

“I have a spare key under the doormat. You can head there when you want and wait for me to be done. Maybe get cozy in some of my clothes or something.”

Steve wanted nothing more than to do that.

“Are you sure you aren’t just offering to be nice?”

“Well I am offering to be nice but I want to be nice to you. I want you there if you wanna be there.”

It’s hard for Steve to believe his luck, how much everything seems to have changed for him in just the last 48 hours.

If he’d known getting a tattoo would lead to this, he would’ve gotten one years ago.

“I do. I wanna be there.”

He could hear the smile in Eddie’s voice when he replied.

“Then I’ll see you there after my appointment. Hopefully won’t be too late. But what’s my rule?”

“Um. Check in when I get there.”

“Good boy. I’ll have my phone volume up so I can hear it during the appointment. But you call me if you start to feel bad. Promise?”

“Promise,” Steve gulped.

When he hung up, he closed his eyes and smiled to himself.

Robin was probably going to say he shouldn’t do this, that he was putting too much into something with someone he barely knew, that this risk was too much.

And she’d probably be right, at least a little.

But Steve knew that he’d spent his whole life trying to feel the way Eddie made him feel. Not even Robin’s endless patience and love could compare.

He had to accept this while he could. He had to feel some of the sunshine now just in case it went away.

Chapter 6

TAG LIST:  @invisibleflame812 @inmoonywetrust @captain-daryn @carlyv @lillemilly @spectrum-spectre @raisedbylibrarians @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @mightbeasleep @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @bornonthesavage @loguine-linguine @bejeweledbaby @bisexualdisastersworld @eddiemunsonswife @sadcanadianwinter @messrs-weasley @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch @maya-custodios-dionach @sleepyboosstuff @novelnovella @jestyzesty @f1ct1onwh0re @croatoan-like-its-hot

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #chapter 5 #grumpy sunshine trope #tattoo artist eddie munson #guidance counselor steve harrington #will byers #dom eddie munson #sub steve harrington

[sky-neverending]

AU where Steve adopted an 8 year old Dustin at 18 bc his mom died and no one else could take him so he fought the state until he was given full rights to be Dustin’s caretaker and now 5 years later Dustin is going into 8th grade and Steve is a guidance counselor at the middle school bc he wants to help the kids and he meets the new English teacher and *gasp* it’s Eddie Munson, whom he vaguely remembers from high school. and *double gasp* he’s hot as shit and incredible with the kids and Dustin is obsessed with him so Steve sees him more and more and slowly falls in love with him. And then Dustin realizes what’s happening and invites his teacher over for dinner like it’s normal, except Eddie accepts because he is also madly in love with Steve and then Dustin locks them on the front porch until they kiss. and now Dustin’s adoptive father and his english teacher are dating.

i’ve sort of already written the beginning of this if you couldn’t tell…..

#stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #dustin henderson #steve is a father #dustin and steve #english teacher eddie munson #guidance counselor steve harrington #teacher au #parent au #i need to finish this #i love meddling dustin

[audhd-nightwing]

elementary school guidance counselor steve who fosters dustin & tattoo artist eddie who fosters max. max and dustin go to the school steve works at

max gets in a fight and is sent to guidance (max actually really likes steve) and steve has to call eddie to come pick her up.

steddie meet and immediately fall in love (steve’s soft sweatervest and ironed button-down with wire frame glasses and mom jeans vs. eddie’s long hair, piercings, tattoos, crop top & tight black skinny jeans). eddie immediately asks if max won the fight (she rolls her eyes and says “of course i did”) and steve is torn between laughing and reprimanding them. steve subtly gives eddie his number (hands him a slip of paper with it while rambling about how great max is, she’s an awesome kid, anyway you should get going now bye!) and max definitely notices.

cue max recruiting dustin and them attempting to set their foster dads up. eventually steddie starts dating and officially adopt max/dustin and then get married. somewhere along the lines steve gets a couple tattoos done by eddie (smth like ‘it gets better’ on his upper thigh so that he can read it, a little robin in the crook of his elbow, and idk what exactly it would be yet but smth around his top surgery scars) and eddie just falls more and more in love with him.

also steddie is t4t and both of them (plus max and dustin) are autistic, because this is a modern au so fuck you i can do whatever i want

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #dustin henderson #max mayfield #steddie modern au #guidance counselor steve #tattoo artist eddie #kid fic #steddie kid fic #steddie fic ideas #steddie ficlet #trans ftm steve harrington #nonbinary eddie munson #steve and dustin #eddie and max #dustin and his dads #t4t steddie #autistic steve harrington #autistic eddie munson #steddie fluff #dad steve harrington #dad eddie munson #foster dads #opposites attract

[crayonboxcolors607]

#also steve is a guidance counselor in this fic #lol i forgot to mention that #i need a career for eddie that will bounce off of steve nicely #they need *chemistry* #teacher eddie munson #teacher steve harrington #teacher au #high school au #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steddie #steddie but they're teachers

[doodleswithangie]

meanwhile in hawkins

[image description:  fanart of the hawkins team from stranger things season four: lucas sinclair, steve harrington, robin buckley, erica sinclair, nancy wheeler, eddie munson, max mayfield, and dustin henderson. it is styled like an 1980s cartoon screenshot with closed captioning. they are gathered in a huddle and focused on what dustin is holding in his hand - a clock necklace shaped like a key. the captions read: "So what's the plan?" "We find the lock, we find Vecna."]

(version without the blur filters and captions under the cut)

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson #erica sinclair #st4 #stranger things 4 #artists on tumblr #doodleswithangie #started this for stranger things day but it got out of hand #disclaimer i don't have a theory for the key i just needed a focal point BUT sure the guidance counselor is suspect

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 3rd: School | Bad Reputation - Joan Jett and The Blackhearts | Combative

cw: pre-steddie (vaguely set s2), weed, migraines, un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour read on ao3 | link to series on ao3

It’s 1985 and the boys bathroom smells like weed.

Interestingly, the boys bathroom smells like weed before Eddie ditches his last period to smoke in the little cement block room, window cracked and far less obvious than whoever’s in there ahead of him.

Probably a Freshman who doesn’t know any better, or some first-timer who hasn’t learned the ropes yet, he thinks to himself. 

What he doesn’t expect to find when he pushes the heavy wooden door open is recently dethroned King Steve, sitting on the disgusting tile floor smoking a poorly rolled joint in the corner of the bathroom. Wedged between the sink and the wall, he looks… small, sad, lost, even. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d recruit him for Hellfire. He certainly looks the part of lost sheep. 

Steve startles when the door opens and, in what may be the only time in Eddie’s many years at Hawkins High, relaxes when he sees Eddie. Steve’s eyes widen and then look away, back down at his hands. His shoulders clench and drop. His entire body seems to move to defend itself before retreating back into whatever stupor he’s smoking himself into. 

Eddie has no idea what the fuck is happening that Steve Harrington doesn’t take him as a threat after his years of proving himself to be just that. Nor can he imagine what the fuck Steve’s experienced that’s caused it. Seconds pass and Eddie just stands there, door closed behind him, unsure of what to do. Hotboxing the bathroom with Steve hadn’t been his plan, but he’s been desperate for just a few drags off the joint sitting heavy in his pocket all day. 

“You uh, you know that window opens, right?” Eddie asks, gesturing toward the window with his chin. 

Steve doesn’t look up. “Sure do.” 

“Got it. Cool. Okay, uh—” Eddie sputters. He’s had very few interactions with Steve, each one civil enough to leave no bad blood besides the company Steve keeps. Or, well, kept. But none have been long enough for Eddie to get a handle on Steve, not in the way he usually can.

Steve sighs and begins to stand. “I’ll get outta your way, man.” 

Something in the way he moves, the way he grips the sink edge tight and rocks once to gain momentum before Eddie stops him, reminds Eddie of Wayne. Veteran Wayne, who works a harsh manual job and is no less than 25 years their senior. That can’t be normal, he thinks. 

“Hey no, I’m uh, actually here for the same reason. Mind if I just,” Eddie trails off as he locks the door and wiggles his joint around, holding it between his pointer and middle finger. “I’ll crack the window so we don’t get busted.” 

“Yeah, I don’t care, but leave the window closed. It’s too fucking loud.” Steve shrugs and Eddie stops mid-stride. 

Eddie looks back down at the spot Steve has settled back into, his head carefully resting against the painted cinder block wall with closed eyes. It’s easier to watch him like this, long eyelashes spidering across his cheeks and brows furrowing. A tiny line appears between them, vertical, and Eddie holds himself back from smoothing it out. 

“Alright, just know we’re probably gonna get caught.” Eddie compromises as he sits on a toilet, the stall door open, and lights up. 

The flick of his lighter brings him a moment’s comfort, followed by the familiar warmth curling into his lungs. His throat burns and he coughs once, then twice, before exhaling. Little puffs of smoke leave his lips in one long, continuous breath. Immediately, the frustration of his meeting with the guidance counselor, the anger at his English teacher for failing him when he was fucking trying, the shame and disappointment of having to go home and tell Wayne he’s being left back– again– vanish. He knows it’s temporary, that it’ll all come rushing back to him in an hour or two, but for now, his brain is quiet. 

For now, the bathroom is silent. Long moments pass in surprisingly comforting stillness, just Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington in the strangest show of camaraderie imaginable. 

Eventually though, Eddie’s lips loosen.  

“Why are you in here anyways? Shouldn’t you be like… I don’t know,” Eddie starts, miming the act of dribbling a basketball. “Doing some sport thing?”

“I do more than play sports, Munson.” Steve’s eyes roll and he shakes his head, grimacing at the movement. Eddie can’t quite put it together, what that reaction means. 

“Huh. Coulda fooled me. And probably like, the rest of the school’s population. The rest of your Kingdom,” Eddie teases, gesturing widely with both arms. 

“There’s no Kingdon, you ass. Much as you pretend to stay outta the gossip, I know you know what happened. And I’m glad it did, so drop it, okay?”

Steve has a bite to him, an attitude that Eddie admires and can’t help push a bit further. 

“So you fall from grace and now you sit on grungy bathroom floors to smoke? Alone? That’s sorta my thing, just say–”

Eddie’s words get drowned out when Steve interrupts. “I’m down here smoking, alone, because I have a fucking migraine. If I have to see one more fluorescent light or hear one more high-pitched screech in the hallway, my brain is going to leak out of my goddamn ears.” 

Even stoned, Eddie puts it together all at once. The closed window. The cool tiles. The struggle to get up. He doesn’t know the full story, but he remembers Steve walking around with his face beaten in and the rumors that it’d been Billy’s doing during a fight, and the time before that, when Jonathan had gotten a few good shots in. Damn his bleeding heart, but Steve suddenly feels more like a lost sheep than he could’ve imagined.

Someone Eddie feels the urge to protect. 

Eddie stands carefully, all too aware of the sound of his own footsteps as he finds the hidden switch to turn the lights off. There’s still a tiny bit of light filtering in from beneath the door and through the window, but it’s darker. Safer. 

“I can be quiet.” 

Steve looks up at him, brows drawn tight in confusion, and Eddie’s chest aches. How infrequently does someone care for Steve?

“I’ve been in classes with you. I’m not so sure you can,” Steve retorts, a little less sarcastic now. Eddie makes a show of sitting back down on the toilet and mimicking zipping his lips and throwing away a key. It gets an actual laugh from Steve, and goddamn him, Eddie loves the sound of that. 

Eddie watches as Steve’s eyes close again, this time with a relaxed forehead, and stares at him while they  finish their joints. Alone, together. Maybe they could actually be friends, Eddie and Steve. Steve and Eddie. There’s a ring to it that Eddie hates because of how good it sounds. 

He’s drawn out of his thoughts by a rattling at the door and subsequent pounding. Steve’s eyes open and dart between Eddie and the door. “Fuck,” he whispers. 

Fuck is right, Eddie thinks. If he wasn’t already getting held back again, he would be now for what he’s about to do.

He crouches over next to Steve and takes what’s left of his joint from his fingers. “Do you have anything else on you?” 

Steve shakes his head No and opens his mouth, only for Eddie to press a finger against his lips. “Get in the stall and flush the toilet when I open the door.” 

“What–”

“Get in the stall,” Eddie whispers harshly, helping Steve to stand and all but shoving him in the stall he’d been in previously. 

“Dude, they’re gonna know I’m here, it’s fine,” Steve resigns. 

“Not if you have nothing on you, just say you had to take a piss and I was already in here. I’ve got a reputation, you don’t. Who are they gonna believe? Besides, I’m not graduating and you are. Consider it a graduation gift.” 

Before he can open the bathroom door, before he takes the fall as planned because of course, the principal believes the story they’d concocted, Eddie feels Steve place a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Thanks.“

As he’s dragged to the Principal's office and suspended, an all too familiar setting, he hopes it’s not the last time he gets to smoke with Steve Harrington.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie month #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st fic #myfic #eddie month prompts

[famwhy]

Right Way Up (03)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: I know Steve's initials are on this chapter but that doesn't mean this chapter is focused on him, just a head's up.

prev part. masterlist. next part.

03. bring unto me altruism

trait: s.h.

"YOU know him?"

Your gaze wandered over the top of the BMW, breaking away from the (very sturdy-looking) back of Billy Hargrove to instead lock eyes with Steve Harrington—the latter of which had his own optics thoroughly narrowed in your direction.

"Huh?"

"The new guy—" he scoffed out, and you watched as his lips tugged down, brows furrowed very harshly, "—do you know him?"

Ah, shit. You have got to stop slipping up, Y/N.

"No." The response came out quick—and you turning around to face Billy again came quicker. He was still walking off—skinny jeans making it almost impossible to ignore his figure, very clearly outlining his... ahem just as they had in the show. "I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know him, though."

"Ew, gross."

"Oh please, like you can talk."

"I can talk, actually, and—hey! Where are you going?" 

Midway through his sentence, you had started off towards the school, strutting after the dirty blonde with just as much feigned confidence in your walk as he.

It was rude to walk off halfway through a conversation but that was probably the least of your worries right now. You had a plan and if you wanted to execute it, you couldn't let Billy out of your sight.

"Y/N?"

"Just heading to class, don't worry. Walk Nancy to her first period then head to yours, 'kay? I'll be fine."

What exactly were you doing? Simple—remember the other day when you had no clue where you were going and had to rely on Steve to get you to your classes? Well, today, you could follow Billy Hargrove and, with any luck, you'd end up finding the counselor without having to ask for help and sounding suspicious.

Although, the last of anyone's guesses as to why you were acting peculiar would be that you came from a whole other world; one wherein they were all characters on a screen with almost three-quarters of them being completely irrelevant to the plot and, therefore, not even paid the littlest of attention to by the audience.

Still, better to be safe than sorry.

You had many more worries running rampant in your mind, all loud and overwhelming, grand and all-consuming—almost to the point where you had bumped into the defined back of the 80s bad boy; a defined back which, all of a sudden, wasn't moving like it was just moments ago. 

Why did he stop?

The answer to that question was written clearly on the solid plate stuck to the blank, beaten door before you: COUNSELOR.

Your ears perked up as a jingle sounded from the metal knob, a strong, slightly-tanned hand wrapped firmly around it.

The door refused to budge.

"Ah shit," came the steady curse of the broad male. His body had shifted after that, and even an idiot could tell that he was about to turn around, so you did what any sane person would do—you flung yourself to the side and crashed your butt against one of the chairs snugly tucked against the wall.

Ouch... you'd think the chairs next to the guidance counselor's office would be a little more comfy to land on. 

If Billy had found your actions at all weird, he showed no signs of it—choosing, instead, to plop himself down on the seat next to you; pink lips pulled into a straight line and ocean-blue gaze as cool as steel. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then Billy's glass panes were sure-as-hell foggy beyond belief because you hadn't grasped a single glance at his soul.

But... you still knew what it looked like, the shattered crystals left behind in the wake of his past, ready to prick whoever dared come near with their razor-sharp edges—and that thought had your heart squeezing painfully, both in sympathy and guilt; sympathy for his unfortunate circumstances and... guilt for knowing so much about this boy who hadn't a single clue that you existed before... well, any of this.

"'S there a reason for your staring, princess?"

You blinked, all of a sudden being the recipient of a grin that didn't quite seem to reach the eyes of the sender.

"Huh?"—damn, caught lost in thought again—"Oh! Uh, you're my new neighbour, right?"

He arched a brow.

"Cherry Lane?" You added. "My brother told me someone moved in and you don't look like anyone I know."

His mouth stayed sewn shut and you chose to keep going.

"I think I saw you get out of your car earlier too, there was a California tag on it, is that where you used to live?"

Again. No words. Though, this time, his lips pulled taut and any sign of that previous expression had vanished.

"I always thought the Golden Coast was pretty." You weren't an idiot, you saw the change in his expression—the shift in his gaze—but you didn't let it stop you, continuing to speak with a small, gentle smile, "I'm thinking of going one day."

His eyes had softened a little at that, and he parted his lips—looking as though he was about to speak—when, all of a sudden, a sound reverberated through the near-empty hall, and he closed them once more, raising a brow before sending a pointed look your way.

You felt it coming, the rumble deep down in the pits of your stomach, but you were helpless in stopping it—in containing it—and it arrived before you could even blink—

—a low growl.

Your fist rose up, a light cough leaving your mouth as your gaze awkwardly drifted to the side. "I, uh, didn't eat this morning."

Silence.

Then—to your utter surprise—soft, mirthful chuckles flooded your ears, causing you to whip your head around so fast, you almost sprained your poor neck. Beside you was a sight for sore eyes; one that resulted in your jaw dropping all the way to the floor and your eyes practically bulging out with how much they'd widened.

Billy Hargrove—the Billy Hargrove—was laughing.

His soft, golden curls bounced with each bout of snickers that left his mouth—beautiful, azure eyes crinkled and barely visible past his squinted lids—and yet—they still looked just as striking as usual, as mesmerising and jaw-dropping as on TV—if not, more so.

And then, it really sank in.

You made Billy Hargrove laugh.

And it wasn't some fake, obligatory giggle—nor was it that little, psychotic laugh he did when hysteria clouded his usually-cold gaze—no, it was full-blown, genuine laughter. And you caused it.

That thought had your chest swelling with a lot more pride than it probably should've—

"What's up with the tattoo?"

The question left his mouth much more comfortably than his previous words, flowing out with a small, slightly-smug quirk of his lips, and it took you a moment to register the fact that he had stopped chuckling, his gaze having drifted down—specifically, towards your wrist.

You trailed his gaze, finding yourself being met with the three, thick lines that had been there since the day you arrived in this world and—unsure of why they were there yourself—you shrugged. "Dunno, I think I got it while blackout drunk once."

Something about your response must've been funny because he officially chuckled for the second time since meeting you. "I didn't know you country folk knew how to party that hard."

Now, you might've not been from Hawkins yourself but... something about the way he said that had your eyes narrowing slightly in his direction, and you sprung up from your seat, the underside of your thighs suddenly being greeted by cold air.

"Watch it. We can party just as hard as you Calis."

Your pupils grew shaky as you stood there, watching the next set of his actions with a tingling feeling deep down in your stomach.

One hand on his denim-clad knee, defined biceps flexing as he slowly rose up—your eyes rising with him. And as he took a step closer to you—lips twitching further up with a glint in his eyes you couldn't quite discern—you found yourself starting to slowly lose your breath, hands growing just the slightest bit clammy with the sudden blaze of active nerves you were struck with.

"Yeah?"

You gulped. "Yeah."

You felt hyper-aware as a rough, sun-kissed hand slid around your waist—fitting perfectly against the curve of your back, slowly dragging you closer, and sending a flurry of pleasant tingles straight up your spine to meet with the group that started to steadily arise in your chest; a chest that was mere millimetres from the thin, cotton material that covered his own.

Then, he leaned towards your ear, lips grazing the lobe as he whispered—a sultry lull bleeding into his tone—"Why don't you show me just how hard you can party, huh?"

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat but—before you could fret over what he'd say next, how he'd respond to your silly, little fumble—a 'click!' sounded from your side, and you threw yourself straight out of his sturdy arms quicker than a bolt of lightning—just in time, too, for the face of an older woman emerged from within the office not even moments later.

"Ah," the lady nodded, "you must be William."

Your eyes flitted over to him just in time to catch the way his jaw ticked.

"It's Billy, actually." And when he responded, his voice came out cold, different to the playful lilt it held just moments before.

It didn't take a genius to figure out the name struck a nerve.

"Ah, my bad. Would you like to come in and grab your schedule, Billy?"

He didn't respond but did as she asked, brushing past you to walk into the smaller room, only sharing a brief few seconds of eye-contact as he walked past—but those brief few seconds were enough to grant you just a tiny glimpse into the thunderous storm hidden within the pools of his irises—

—and as the door shut behind him, your lips tugged down.

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the way his muscles seemed to tense up at the mention of California, freeze in what you could safely assume was caused by his longing to return to the freedom of his home state.

To be forced to depart from your home was nothing new, but you truly felt for Billy and his circumstances. His dad was more than hard on him—he was downright abusive, and Billy was forced to endure it without a single soul in his corner to help him through it, to guide him down the right path and teach him how to break out of the cycle of abuse he was forced into upon being born.

He was only eighteen. A goddamn child. He shouldn't have had to go through what he did.

He should've had the chance to redeem himself.

But that chance was squandered in Season 3, ripped from him akin to how his life was—a grotesque limb of mixed flesh having pierced through his chest, several other messed-up tentacles latched painfully onto his sides, bleeding him dry, draining the life from his eyes.

He didn't deserve to die.

Officially bummed-out by your own trail of thoughts, you heaved out a sigh before your ears perked up at a familiar 'click!' and your head snapped to the door again.

Out came Billy, the smug twitch of his lips back on his face—it was so comfortably situated there, in fact, that if any other person had seen it, they'd have assumed it was there the whole time.

But, despite him looking perfectly fine as he walked out of the old office, you still felt the urge to fly into his arms and wrap him in an embrace filled to the brim with promises; promises to at least provide him some level of support for what he was going through and what he would go through. Though, unlike with Eddie, you couldn't act upon it.

See, Billy and Eddie were two completely different people—where Eddie had brushed off your sudden hug quite easily—happily welcomed it, even—Billy would definitely question it, especially considering the fact that he didn't even know who you were.

And so, although it took all of your willpower, you refrained from throwing yourself onto him—choosing, instead, to stand still as he sauntered over, fingers rising up to brush against your shoulder gently; teasingly.

"See ya 'round, princess."

Instantly, a flurry of tiny, winged creatures erupted in your stomach, sending tingles through your body—up your spine to seize you at your throat, clawing into your windpipe and rendering you motionless in astonishment and awe and—

Was it just you or was it getting hot in here?

"Y/N?" You blinked, attention turning to the dark-haired female suddenly stood before you. "What are you doing here?"

Forcing yourself to forget that... whatever that was, you let a small, sheepish smile curve onto your lips. "Actually, miss, do you mind if I ask for a reprint of my schedule?"

"A reprint?" She rose a brow, arms slowly folding over her chest. "I thought you already had it memorised."

"Oh, uh,"—cue a small, nervous giggle—"you see, it kinda like... slipped my mind, y'know? And I already lost my old one so... can I have that reprint?"

She stood there for a little while longer—letting you really bask in the glory of her heavy judgement—before finally heaving out a sigh through her nose, sounding like she just aged up another ten years as she spun on her heel, full, brown curls bouncing after her.

The ground was smooth, friction practically non-existant as you rocked on your heels, awaiting the piece of paper with bated breath. The ticks of the clock suddenly didn't seem so much like white noise anymore as impatience furrowed your brows and your teeth jutted out, sinking a little into your bottom lip in anticipation.

Then, with a loud, echoing, "Y/N!"—someone had called out to you, but their voice was too high-pitched to be the one you were looking to hear—not to mention the fact that it came from the hall to your right as opposed to the office in front of you.

Your head whipped around just in time to have your whole body jerk a little as a girl skidded to an abrupt stop right next to you, her brown, soft-looking hair bouncing with an almost unnecessary amount of volume.

In her hands were several pieces of bright orange paper, all inked with a few words you couldn't quite make out—not without squinting at least.

"Hey!"

"Uh, hey..."

Who the hell was this again?

"How have you been? You haven't been to practice for a while now, the girls are pretty worried." As she spoke, she tucked a stray strand behind her ear and you squinted—trying to figure out where you'd seen her in the show.

"Oh, uh, I've just been a little sick, that's all."—seriously, who was this girl?—"I'm fine now though."

"That's great to hear!" She beamed, though her smile didn't quite seem to reach her eyes. "Listen, I'm having this party on Halloween and... I wanted you to be the first invite."

She extended one hand—flyer fit snugly between her fingertips—and you reached out, wrapping your fingers around the other end before she released it.

Eyes falling down, you took in the words written in... well, you didn't even know what font that was: TINA'S HALLOWEEN BASH. Come and get Sheet Faced.

Oh, so this was Tina.

"You'll be there, right?"

Your eyes flew back up and you were met with her intense gaze, swirling with a desperate, expectant plea you were almost saddened to see.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I'll be there."

If anyone saw the way her shoulders fell and the muscles on her face relaxed at your words, they would've assumed you took some sort of heavy anvil off her shoulders, freeing her of some sort of imaginary weight that was supposedly weighing her down.

"Thank you," she breathed out, voice practically inaudible over the air leaving her lungs.

Damn, were you that influential?—so much so that your presence would make or break a party?

"No problem?" 

If you were being completely honest, you had no idea what to think of Tina—her character wasn't very explored in the show considering the fact that her role was very minor, the only thing she was really used for was the Halloween bash. But just from these few minutes with her alone, you could tell she was someone who heavily valued reputation.

"Okay, well, I should go," her voice pierced through your thoughts. "I'm thinking of inviting the new kid."

You parted your lips—about to say goodbye—when she twirled around and took off running, not even bothering to spare another glance your way.

Rude.

But as your gaze drifted down to the piece of paper in your hands once more, you found yourself uncaring of her rather unorthodox departure—too busy thinking about... something else.

"Y/N, here's your schedule."

Ah, nevermind the bash, you had your schedule now. You could finally know where you were meant to be for each period—albeit, it would take you a while to actually find the places but at least you knew what subjects you were meant to be in during the week. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Speaking of class, you were long overdue for your first period—

—and your teacher seemed to agree on that too, judging by the harsh glare situated on his face as soon as your sheepish form walked through the door. But hey, could he blame you? No, you were just trying to find your way around this stupid maze of a school.

Luckily, getting to your second class was much easier seeing as you passed it on your way to the first—but that didn't make it any less difficult to have to sit through. You were in Stranger Things—for fuck's sake!—what the hell did Newton's Third Law have to do with it?

You weren't ashamed to admit that you didn't pay attention to any of the other classes leading up to lunch—nor were you opposed to confessing the huge sigh of relief you let out once the long break period finally arrived, because—c'mon—who the hell paid attention to class when they just got transported to another world?

Not you.

So yes, you were currently happily strolling through the halls with your arms crossed over your books as you hugged said items to your chest, no sign of Steve in sight—but, you did catch a glimpse of a very familiar Lion's mane by a set of grey lockers in the corner of your eye.

"Eddie!"

Your voice must've come suddenly because he jumped as soon as you called out to him, head turning your way and one hand situating itself above his heart after he saw you. "Oh, Y/N!"

Your lips twitched up at just the sight of him. "What happened to 'sweetheart'?"

"Oh, uh, you want me to call you that? In front of all these people?"

And just like that, your lips tugged down. "Of course, why would that be a problem? Unless you're uncomfortable with it yourself—in which case, you don't have to call me by it."

Immediately, his head shook from side-to-side, messy hair bouncing crazily along with it. "No, no, not at all... sweetheart."

You'd be lying if you said that the nickname didn't garner a reaction from you; didn't result in your chest swirling with a blazing warmth.

Though, it also seemed to result in the jaw of the person stood next to him dropping to the floor; the same person you had just noticed was there in the first place. He had hair that was just as curly as Eddie's, but—unlike the male you knew—his was cut shorter, barely reaching past his ears really.

You knew this guy, he was one of Eddie's friends.

What was his name again? It started with a G. Let's see... Gavin..? No... Gary..? No...

Oh!

"Gareth right?" Relief washed through your insides when his head nodded, eyes wide and seeming to look through you, almost as if he couldn't even believe you were there, "It's so nice to meet another friend of Eddie's!"

"Another?" He seemed to have shot out of his trance at that, and it wasn't long before he gave you an incredulous look, gaze flickering over from you to Eddie, to you to Eddie, over and over again.

Then, all too suddenly, he pulled on the other male's arm and yanked him to the side—not even 3 feet of you—before resuming, "You're friends with the Queen Bee? How the hell did that happen?"

"You think I know?!"

Eddie's response was enough to garner a chuckle from you, causing both boys to quickly return their gazes to your form. Before they could comment on their fuck-up however, another voice came bellowing down the hall, calling out to you.

"Y/N!" 

Unlike with Gareth before, you recognised that pretty face paired with those luscious ginger strands of hair straight away. How could you not? You had practically seen a thousand edits of them along with the 'Chrissy Wake Up' song on TikTok. Kinda hard to forget her after the Internet did its magic.

Though, it wasn't exactly unpleasant to be meeting her, and so, you gave her as bright a smile as you could muster. "Chrissy! Hey!"

"Hi!" She beamed right back at you, but unlike Tina, Chrissy's smile genuinely reached her glinting eyes, even going as far as adorably crinkling them up a little. "Tina said you were feeling fine now, do you mind coming to practice today? Only if you're okay! I know you've been sick so take as much rest as you need and don't feel pressured."

How the hell could you say no to that?

"Yeah, okay, sure! I'll come with you to practice."

You weren't sure how it was possible, but she seemed to light up even further at that, almost blinding you like the little ball of sunshine she was.

In fact, she was so distracting, you almost forgot the presence of the two boys dressed in a completely different colour pallet to you. Keyword: almost.

"Looks like that's my cue." You turned their way—if only to save your eyesight from genuinely deteriorating due to the light that was Chrissy. "It was nice meeting you, Gareth. Good to see you again, Eddie."

Just before departing, you ghosted your fingers over the covered shoulder of Eddie, wiggling them about like you had done to Steve just the day prior; a signature goodbye, if you will.

And as you walked down the halls, you picked up on one last thing coming from Gareth's mouth... one last thing that was enough to drill your feet straight into the ground.

"Eddie? Eddie, wake up!"

That phrase... 

Flashes of Season 4 infiltrated your gaze; of the unfortunate victims that had their lives stripped from them; of the very girl stood next to you's body flying up, limbs distorting as they snapped irregularly, eyes not even having the pleasure of losing light with how unjustly they were gauged out from her.

Had you messed up somehow?

Had the events of Season 4 ended up being triggered too early by your mere existence?

The questions overwhelmed you—flooded through your senses and clogged up your airways with their untimely arrival. You were a puppet and they were the strings, ushering you to turn around; to rid yourself of the wool pulled over your eyes—of the blissful ignorance surrounding your form—and, helpless to their influence, you did exactly that.

Slowly, your head reared backwards—the room spinning around you—and your eyes were greeted by a welcome sight; one that breathed life back into your limbs.

Eddie stood there—eyes still very much on his face—with a familiar, light blush spread across his cheeks. Even as his form was being rapidly shook by his dear friend, he remained still, gaze trained on you. He only seemed to have snapped out of it after making proper eye-contact with you.

Two blinks. A small, shy raised hand. And a tiny wave.

False alarm. He was just flustered.

It made sense, your previous actions could be interpreted as flirting after all—and to be honest, you didn't really mind if it was (again, the Eddie Munson)—but, you'd be lying if you said he didn't just give you a bit of a scare there.

The sentence that just came out of Gareth's mouth was the very same, infamous sentence uttered by Eddie's lips just before the first death of Season 4—a rather brutal death involving the very ball of sunshine that was just tasked to retrieve you.

Speaking of that ball of sunshine—

"Y/N, you coming?"

You blinked, quickly returning Eddie's wave before whipping your head back around to face the ginger next to you once again.

You had to admit, it was very surreal coming face-to-face with people from the show who were meant to die—it felt kinda like seeing a ghost, and a part of you (just a teensy-weensy, little part) found it... well... unsettling.

But, that was just a small part.

"Yeah. Let's go."

You shook off the residual fear that lingered from that little moment before finally continuing to follow Chrissy down the hall. 

The whole walk was full of her detailing you on the failed practices of the cheerleaders in your absence. Apparently, Heather tried and failed to do a cartwheel into a back-flip as part of one of the routines before dramatically throwing her pompoms to the ground and angrily muttering that you could do it instead.

You had no idea who Heather was but you wished you were there to see it.

Oh, and—with you gone—it seemed as though a lot of the girls had taken to slacking off, opting to gaze longingly at the sweaty boys that played basketball just across the Gym instead of actually being productive.

You doubted that would get any better with Billy around now.

"Well, well, well," a high-pitched voice sliced through your thoughts and you blinked, finally noticing that you arrived at the Gym. "Look who finally decided to show up."

You recognised that puffed-up, blonde hair from the first day of your arrival, the stance she took on being an almost-exact replica of the one back in the infirmary.

"Finally done punching the daylights out of some random freak in school?" She scoffed out.

"Sarah," Chrissy hissed from beside you, "don't say that. Y/N's been sick recently."

"Sick of being just as aggressive as her brother?" Sarah rolled her eyes.

Before you could retort with your own defense, however, someone else had piped in—that person being a brunette with rather short, straight hair, "You're talking like you don't wanna fuck him."

Uh—what?

"Jenny!" Your eyes flitted over to the blonde just in time to catch her reddened cheeks.

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Whatever, let's just..."

Sarah trailed off there, jaw hanging open as her eyes seemed to land on something not within your immediate eyesight. And when you found yourself following her gaze—you located the subject of her interest, the lack of words suddenly making sense.

Golden curls you had the pleasure of seeing up close just this morning were farther now, having just barely passed through the entrance. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips as the electricity in his eyes zapped through the Gym before finally landing on you, lips edging up into what you could only call a smirk.

It wasn't long before he sauntered over, practically demanding all of the attention in the room with his walk; attention which was happily handed over to him on a sleek, silver plate.

"All this time I've been calling you princess... when you've really been a queen," as he spoke—voice as husky as ever—a teasing lilt laced into his tone, intensifying his gaze and overwhelming you with his suffocating presence. "Why didn't you say anything, dollface?"

Breathe, Y/N, breathe. Stand your ground. 

You tried to, you really did—but, the only way you'd be able to keep your composure right now was by closing your eyes and pretending you didn't see him—

—so you did exactly that.

Your lashes fluttered shut and you envisioned a blank sea of darkness before uttering out a response, "Didn't think it was important."

"Yeah?" Now, while you might not have been able to see him, you could still very well hear him, and his voice was nothing short of the perfect mixture between smooth and rough and—

Stop. It.

For your own sake—and for fear of further falling apart—you chose not to say anything and only nodded.

That was a mistake.

Instant regret hit you square in the face when you felt the gentle touch of a few, rough fingers against your chin, tilting your head just enough to rest at an angle before a surge of warm air tickled your lashes.

And as he spoke—lips almost grazing your closed lids—those familiar flying pests made their home in your stomach, "Where'd those pretty eyes of yours go? Didn't seem to stop wanting to use them this morning."

Damn him and his smoothness.

In an effort to continue to save face, you resorted to squeezing your eyes even further shut—paying no mind to the blissful warmth slowly coating your form or the teasing snickers that left the bad boy's mouth; snickers which you could practically feel the vibrations of.

"What's the matter? Have I rendered Miss Queen Bee speechless?" 

Your vision was dark but you could still see the smug smirk on his face. Just wait until you gathered yourself, you were gonna make him ten times more flustered than you—just wait.

The light clearing of a throat suddenly served as a reminder that you two weren't the only ones in the room and you found yourself feeling a little... cold when Billy pulled away.

Cold? Ugh, once again, damn him and his smoothness.

Finally deeming it safe to do so, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light once more before you were finally able to make out the slowly-shrinking figure of Billy Hargrove. But just as he reached the entrance of the Gym once more, he paused, one hand firmly gripping onto the frame as he called out to you over his shoulder.

"Keep your bed nice and warm for me, will ya, dollface?"

Your jaw dropped.

Someone else then said something along the lines of 'oh my god' but—if you were being honest—you were barely able to hear it over the echo of Billy's snickers as he walked away, completely amused by your reaction no doubt.

He was so unequivocally bold, you almost couldn't believe it.

"Uh, guys, I think I'm gonna take a raincheck on practice today." But, it seemed as though the other girls definitely could—judging by how the very girl who said this rushed right after Billy.

"Me too!"

"Yeah, uh, I think I'm feeling a little sick."

"Well, I, for one, am chasing up that boy."

"Not if I get him first!"

And as a majority of them rushed after the handsome male, you found yourself deadpanning.

"Bruh."

You definitely couldn't blame them though, the rest of your day was spent recalling all those scenes with him after all. Even Steve noticed your absent-mindedness in the last period of the day—trying several outlandish things to grab your attention that he only informed you of once the lesson was over.

You didn't even notice him waving his arms wildly in front of your face while the teacher's back was turned.

And even as you walked beside him, Nancy strutting ahead of the two of you after you'd picked her up from class, you still had your head roaming around in the clouds.

"Hey, Y/N?" 

You hummed, half-listening, half-not.

Steve then leaned further your way, shoulder brushing your own as he whispered against your ear. "Wish me good luck?"

You blinked up at him, having paid enough attention to scrunch up your nose in confusion and ask, "Good luck for what?"

"The dinner. At Barb's?" 

A few more blinks.

And then—

"Ohhhhh."

Nancy turned around at that, and Steve was quick to hush you. He only resumed talking when she faced forward once more—albeit, slower than she turned around.

"What are you doing? Trying to get me in trouble?!" His whisper came out harsh, and you winced a little.

"Alright, alright, gheez." 

His attitude seemed to be at an all-time high because he rolled his eyes after that. "I just... don't get why I have to go to this stupid dinner anyway."

"Steve." It was your turn to harshly whisper. "Don't say that. Nancy needs closure, this dinner is exactly that."

You felt for Steve just a tad bit, it wasn't his best friend that died after all (thank god for that) but that didn't mean he got to complain about attending a dinner his girlfriend wanted him to be at because he was there the night of the first attack; of the first murder.

See, Barbara (or Barb) had been Nancy's best friend—the two being practically attached by the hip—so of course the night she died would be one that Nancy deeply regretted, and of course she would want closure with the parents of her best friend. It just made sense.

In fact, the whole reason why she did any of what she did in Season 2 was so that she could inform Barb's parents (who still thought their child was out there somewhere) that their kid was, in fact, dead.

"Y/N, you there?"

Caught in a monologue? Seriously, Y/N? What are you, the main character?

"Yeah, I'm here."

Seeing as you were already outside and stood right by Steve's car—you slotted your hand between the cold of both the handle and the door before pulling it open, leaping straight in, and causing the whole vehicle to jerk in a symphony of loud clangs from sheer force.

"Hey! Careful!" It seemed like your music wasn't appreciated by Steve though.

"Relax. It's not like I broke it or anything—" feeling like messing with him—because duh—a smirk slowly twitched onto your lips, "—besides, it's excited to see me, aren't you, girl?"

Steve let out another hiss when you patted the seat a little too harshly—sounding akin to a pissed off feline which just made him seem less menacing and more adorable.

Ha, you tried, Steve, you tried.

The click of the passenger door drew your eyes over to Nancy's form, watching as her legs entered one at a time before she took a seat and turned your way—"We're dropping you off then heading straight over to Barb's."—then, turning to Steve, "Right, Steve?"

You could already hear the grumbled out 'yes' coming from him and you only sent him a grin seeping with amusement when he met your gaze through the rear-view mirror—your lips stretching further as he mouthed the words 'help me' with anguish in his eyes.

"You two have fun, yeah?"

You said the sentence to piss Steve off even further but when you caught a glimpse of the look on Nance's face, a pang shot straight through your chest.

Her eyes had this far-away look about them as her lips curved up by a very small amount—though there was no joy in it, only grief.

"Hey..." you placed one hand on the shoulder of her seat, using it to pull yourself forward as you furrowed your brows, worry clouding your gaze. "You alright?"

She sniffled a little before waving her hand and nodding in response. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

Your lips tugged down and you shared a look with your best friend before he started the engine, breathing life into the vehicle as you slowly lowered your body back down onto the leather seat.

She wasn't fine; even without knowledge from the show, you could tell. She might not have been crying but her lip was definitely quivering a little and her eyes... well, they just weren't all... present in the moment.

But, she would be fine. And that was enough.

Besides, though it was cold to say, you had bigger things to worry about. Nancy would get help from Jonathan in order to come to terms with Barb's death—meanwhile, you had no one to help you out with all the spare knowledge you stored in your brain; with all the premonitions (if you could call it that) you were blessed with.

Perhaps it was time you started preparing for another bout with the demodogs—you were Steve's best friend, after all; that probably meant you'd most likely end up facing the dogs together with him later on in the Season.

"Y/N."

You perked up at the call of your name, shaking away the thoughts clinging to your brain.

"We're here."

Lo and behold, so it seemed you were, the familiar sidewalk leading up to your house being visible through the clear glass panes beside you.

Clicking open the door, you took one step out before swinging the rest of your body to follow after, and once you closed the door again, you walked over to the passenger-side window—shoes barely making a sound against the ground—before your knees bent down a little and you tapped lightly against the glass.

"Let the Hollands know I wish them the best, okay?" You offered a gentle smile to the girl sat before you, and she tried her best to muster one up in return.

"Okay..."

"See you guys." 

And with a brief wave, you quickly spun around and headed towards the relatively-normal house.

You now—thankfully—had keys of your own so there was no need to knock or anything. Well—it was more like you had them all this time but didn't know where they were and just so happened to find them the other day but—details, details.

After fiddling with the keys a little, you heard a 'click!' and pushed against the handle before entering, one hand moving behind you to carefully shut the door.

"I'm home."

Curt's voice was the first to greet you—albeit, not very genuinely. "Congratulations, want a trophy?"

Uh, yes, actually. You would very much like a trophy after coming back home in one piece in the world of Stranger Things.

"We're having pasta tonight!" Luckily, Cain's words were a lot more welcoming than the other brother.

So, as was your right, you ignored your second oldest brother in favour of responding to the first. "Ooh! Pasta?!"

You had to admit, his cooking the other night was rather good—okay, it was magnificent, you just didn't wanna admit it because you stormed off the other day before being able to properly finish it.

But now that you could—

Before you could finish that train of thought, three loud knocks resounded through the room, no doubt coming from the door behind you.

Huh.

Was that Steve? Did he forget to say something?

You lightly wrapped your palm around the handle, turning it slowly before the door was open once more, a sudden, light breeze hitting you square in the face—

—though, the breeze could never be more sudden than who you saw at the door.

It wasn't your swooshy-haired companion to greet you on the other side—no—but rather, an older woman with barely visible bags underneath her drooping eyes; eyes which seemed to have lost all light, almost appearing chillingly lifeless—

—well, that was until they lit up at the sight of you.

"Oh, Y/N! Baby! I've missed you so much!"

And as she threw herself onto your form—arms engulfing you wholly, emotionally—you found yourself blanking out for once, only one thought popping up in your head:

What. The. Fuck.

@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart, @nickey-diano, @uselessbutinteresting, @steeldaisies, @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom, @patheticreative, @majestichugs, @eddiesbitch83, @secretdryrose, @bloodywickedvamp, @charlizekkelly

Did Billy give you guys butterflies or what? 😏 (Srsly tho, I need to know if I'm writing him well—)

#x reader #stranger things #female reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere male x female reader #yandere x you #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #yandere steve harrington #yandere eddie munson #yandere billy hargrove #.right way up #billy hargove x reader

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 2

Holy shit, guys. I have never had such a response to a story before. Thank you guys so much.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

Part 1

*

The next morning Eddie got up for school excited for the first time. He had a mystery to solve and his name was Steven Harrington. Probably the third or whatever shit rich people got to with naming their kids. He rummaged through his closet looking for his favorite band tee. But he stopped when he found an old shoe box down at the bottom.

Eddie frowned and pulled it out. It was a bunch of pictures of Eddie when he first came to live with his uncle, Wayne. He looked at the shaved head and bruised face.

His dad had taken one look at Eddie that morning and decided his hair was too long. He had grabbed Eddie by the hair and dragged him into the bathroom and shaved his head. The bruises to the face were from Eddie trying to escape.

Eddie had suffered a concussion and it was then the state had taken notice. They had packed up his stuff while he was in the hospital in a big black garbage bag and told him he would be going home to his Uncle Wayne. In Indiana. So far from the life he knew. But it meant being safe from his dad and that was a plus in Eddie’s book.

It’s how he knew what Steve was going through. Maybe not exactly the same. But he knew concussions and knew they were a bad business.

He put the pictures back in the box and tucked it under his bed. Maybe he didn’t need to know why Steve was hurting. Maybe it was enough to understand. He pulled on his second favorite band tee and his jacket. He grabbed his bag and hurried out the door.

*

Eddie bit his lip. He didn’t have any classes with Steve today and wasn’t able to check up on him. He was tempted to break into the office and pull Steve’s schedule. But that would get him detention and he was still trying to keep his promise to his uncle.

How was he going to do this?

And then the answer literally dropped in his lap. A book was thrown at him by someone. He picked it up and looked at the cover. It was some old homework journal was about to throw it away when a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

Frowning he picked it up. By some miracle it was Steve’s schedule. He looked up to see if he could see who threw it at him. But it could have been anyone. A lot of people were avoiding his eye, but that could be for any number of reasons. They bought from him and now they can’t look him in the eye because he knows. They want to buy weed and don’t know how to broach it. They think he’s a freak. They have a crush on him. You know, the possibilities were endless.

But at least he knew things he didn’t before. Like holy hell, the kid did a lot of sports. He looked at baseball and swimming and basketball with his mind whirling around in his head. How did he keep all the rules straight?

Math third period Eddie knew. History was Steve’s first period. Which was probably how his messed up brain managed to spew that information at Eddie yesterday. Baseball was seventh. Basketball his eighth. Swimming was second. English fourth. Art was sixth. Art, huh? That was intriguing. Probably thought it was an easy elective. And chemistry was fifth. So it looked something like this.

Odd 1-History 3- Math 5- Chemistry lunch 7- Baseball

Even 2-Swimming 4-English 6-Art lunch 8-Basketball

Huh. Eddie never noticed, but Steve was always in his lunch period. That was certainly interesting. He wondered what Mrs Hall, the guidance counselor would do about all his sports now that he couldn’t play anymore. He supposed swimming was still fine, nothing to hit you in that. But baseball and basketball were definitely out.

Eddie chewed on his lip. The sports weren’t going to get Eddie closer to finding out what happened to Steve. They would close ranks so fast. At least Steve and him had lunch together so that would at least make it easier befriend the guy.

Art, though. He tapped his lip thoughtfully. He had art in his fifth period. He could doing some snooping there. After all art is where true expression lies. And if there was anything going on it would show in his art.

The start of a plan was forming in the back of his mind. Yeah. This could work.

*

At lunch, Eddie slid in next to Steve as soon as he sat down.

“What’s on the menu today, Harrington?” he asked grinning.

Steve looked up at him in shock again. “Um...applesauce and plain toast, with a can of ginger ale.”

Eddie winced. “Still feeling the nausea?”

Steve nodded. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s ever going away.”

“It’ll stick around for about a week,” Eddie said softly.

Steve frowned. “How would you know that?”

“How don’t you know that?” Eddie fired back. “This is your second concussion.”

“Didn’t go to the doctor either time,” Steve mumbled.

“You want to run that past me again, Harrington?” Eddie asked.

“Doctors mean having to call my parents,” Steve explained, “calling my parents means that they’ll have to come back from their trip, coming back from their trip means I get into trouble, getting into trouble is not good for a concussion, so I don’t.”

“Why would you get into trouble for having a concussion?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brow.

Steve started counting it out on his fingers. “Getting into a fight. Hanging out with black people and by extension, siding with said black person. Having to drop out of sports. Watching my grades plummet. Not speaking to Tommy and Carol. I can keep going if you’d like...”

Eddie shook his head. “Holy shit, dude. I didn’t think I’d see a shittier dad then my own, but yours and your mom take the cake.”

Steve looked down at his applesauce mournfully. “It’s not that bad. At least my dad doesn’t hit me like Tommy’s dad does.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “Are all rich dads douchebags?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Look, I’ve got to eat my own lunch,” Eddie said slapping the table and standing up, “but if you need anything come find me.”

Steve nodded, but Eddie didn’t think he would take him up on it.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

[sam-loves-seb]

steddie christmas party au

the thing is--there's an office holiday party coming up.

steve, who works as a guidance counselor at hawkins middle, knows that every year the staff throws a holiday party. he wasn't here for the one last year, off visiting nancy and robin in boston for the holidays, but everyone says it's always a good time and the teachers have all been hounding him to go.

the thing is--he wouldn't even mind going alone. he actually likes some of his co-workers, and he has enough natural charm to survive one night of bad food and christmas music and punch that's just a little too strong to have more than two glasses without getting wasted. he knows that he could go alone and everything would be fine.

but he doesn't really want to.

"plus one?" the school secretary says with raised brows as he hands in his rsvp card. "i didn't know you were seeing anybody."

steve just shrugs as he turns to head back to his office. it's not like people haven't tried to pry into his love life before--some of the female teachers make their availability blaringly obvious to him every time he answers the question "do you have a girlfriend" with "no"--they just haven't gone about it in the right way.

it's not like he's hiding his relationship, people just assume, and they assume incorrectly. that's not his fault.

"the staff christmas party?" eddie asks that night as they're getting ready for bed. "you seriously want to go to that?"

"you don't have to come," steve tells him around a mouthful of toothpaste, then spits. "i just thought it might be nice for you to meet some of my co-workers, and for some of them to meet you. but if you don't want to come with me, that's okay, really."

"babe, if you want me there, i'm there," eddie tells him as he ditches his jeans for flannel pajamas. "just don't be surprised when i get tipsy off the punch and make a fool out of you on the dance floor."

and so, they went to the party with steve dressed in his usual khakis with this favorite ugly christmas sweater worn over a casual dress shirt, and eddie in his usual black on black, though he switched the band t-shirt for a button-up. he added a red tie last minute to try and be more festive for the party, even though steve kept telling him he could wear whatever he wanted.

they walk into the gym hand in hand, and more than a few people stop talking to turn and stare.

but eddie's not paying attention because he's looking at the tinsel hung up on the walls and wondering how they got it that high up, and steve ignores all the surprised faces looking at him until he spots his group of friends tucked together in the corner, some with their spouses, some without.

he drags eddie over to them and introduces him as his boyfriend--saying it loud enough for every goddamn eavesdropper to hear it clearly--and eddie shakes hands and smiles as steve's friends greet him without missing a beat.

they eat and they drink and they dance, and most of the party gets over their initial shock pretty quickly after seeing how happy steve is with eddie around. the rest of the night goes by quickly, and someone even snaps a picture of steve kissing eddie under the mistletoe hanging over the gym door.

by the time the students come back from break in the new year the rumors about mr. harrington sexuality are basically non-existent--thank you short attention spans--and most of the teachers have stopped asking him if he has a girlfriend. steve feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders, one he didn't even realize he was carrying. it's freeing, having everyone--everyone who matters--know about about eddie.

and when the staff christmas party rolls around again next year, steve has twice as much fun dragging eddie under the mistletoe with a ring on his finger and a date picked out for the spring.

#more random au hcs because i cannot be stopped #can u tell i love office holiday party fics #i just think they're neat #steddie #steddie headcanon #steddie fandom #my steddie hcs #my steddie posts #my steddie au #steddie au #steddie hc #stranger things #stranger things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #holiday office party #holiday party #boyfriends #steddie office party au

[bit-odd-innit]

Rock star Eddie Munson starts trending because the true crime girlies get their claws in the Hawkins Serial Killer Story and start posting THEORIES about WHAT REALLY HAPPENED until terminally offline middle school guidance counselor Steve Harrington creates a TikTok account to defend his husband’s honor and rip the true crime communities a new one is this anything.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #thinking about Eddie’s story winding up on like a grosser version of my favorite murder #there’s some kind of cutesy meme that ciruculates that makes fun of Chrissy’s death and he spirals #Steve is like someone show me how to log onto the internet so I can burn it to the ground

[wroteclassicaly]

A/N: I can’t sleep, I miss Eddie, and we still going through it, babes… So I channeled it into this. Love y’all, and thank you for making my dark days brighter ❤️

Warnings: Hurt that ends in comfort, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, fluff, depression, anxiety, mentions of past trauma/injury (Eddie’s wounds), & mental illness (reader has bipolar disorder).

The noise is soft, quiet enough that you can hear it if you lay to listen for a few seconds. Then it raises in octaves, a few clatters and curses. And despite the haze of your mood, a brief bit of fog dissipates, pinching your brow into an amused raise.

“Shit, fuckin’… slap my ass and call me your whore.”

You cover your mouth with a snort, as your fuzzy sock clad feet touch hardwood, and you make your way into the night light lit hallway. There’s a buttery glow from your kitchen that spills out around the corner, giving you a perfect view of your overly theatrical friend — Eddie Munson, as you come into the eye-line. He’s clad in a black t-shirt and whitewash jeans, his pizza decorated socks covering his own feet. His curls are damp, bordering on drying, and he hums a rhythm as you watch him flip a golden shaped object with your Goodwill gifted spatula. You perch yourself against the paneled wall, a warmth stirring in your belly.

He’s had to have used your spare key, and now he’s here before it’s barely even daylight — making something in your kitchen? First off, he wakes up this early? And second, he can cook?

That’s what leaves your mouth, following a series of scolding laughters when he’s clearly startled and drops the utensil on the stove. His rings clink together as he pinches his shirt collar, and you want to apologize, an instant guilt brimming you at surprising him like this. After everything that happened a few months ago, you really should’ve thought your entrance through (despite this being your own home). Eddie tuts, a smirk suddenly finding him amongst his Bambi eyed mirth.

“You scared the shit out of me, kiddo. Thought you were another hoard of bats coming for my other nipple.” He snatches up the utensil and flips it Steve Harrington style, calming your sudden anxiety, and easing your guilt.

You make your way over beside him, bare hip resting against the kitchen counter. He smiles softly, pouring in (what you now see is pancake batter) more of the mixture, flashing a wink your way. You look so fucking perfect and soft, just in socks, panties, and your oversized shirt with stars and crescent moon prints scattered about on it. He’s used to seeing this on you, but it never gets old. When you nursed him back to health after he was released from the hospital, you both grew a lot closer, having been mere acquaintances beforehand.

Changing his dressings, soothing his nightmares, helping him in and out of the shower — you took care of him in ways Eddie never knew existed. You were fearless, you were brave, you were funny, you were smart, you were beautiful and sexy, and as Nancy Wheeler had put it — he was totally fucking in love with you, like old classic — tickle your belly and balls type of romance movies. Once he had reluctantly left to return to the trailer with his uncle to repair the damage, he found that his desire to be near you had increased. And all was going well, until you started staying away from everyone, your voice languid and breathless when he’d call. He was worried it was your own processing of things that occurred, even if you’d been through it a few more years than he had, but Wheeler came through again with her knowing.

You were dealing with something that Eddie recognized as ‘manic depression’. He’d heard about it, seen it printed on the pamphlets in the nurse and guidance counselor’s office. Bipolar disorder. Nancy had explained (with the help of Steve) that you get like this sometimes, that it almost always follows your elevated periods of elated euphoria. Combine that with everything else that happened to you — Eddie immediately went into protective care mode.

He’d gotten up, showered, dressed, and phoned Harrington since he wasn’t able to drive yet. Steve came without question, especially fast on his way when Eddie mentioned the errands were for you. Both boys had gone to the local fabric shop, purchased the curtain and rod, tripped to the grocery store, and Steve had dropped Eddie off. He used his spare key and got to work on his speciality: chocolate chip flapjacks. He intended on surprising you with them, maybe waiting until he thought you were awake.

He didn’t mean to startle you, nor upset you. He’s quick to ease and relax, joking with you, praying you’re not mad that he’s here, invading you, your space, and whatever you’re going through.

Eddie flips the last cake, sprinkling in a few chips, and he’s flashing a cheshire grin, one that fades to a crooked tilt of his lips. “M’ sorry… I didn’t mean to, sort of… break in here? I planned on waiting — shit, that sounds creepy. No, I just wanted to have this ready for you… whenever you might, maybe want to have it?”

You cause his heart to swell ten times in size when you smile and reach up to push a lock of his curls off his forehead. “I’m glad you’re here.”

You’ve put an old movie on TV as you devour the fluffy, butter and syrup covered mountains. Whatever Happened To Baby Jane. Like you, Eddie is comforted by classic horror films, and can easily fall asleep to the controlled atmosphere they contain. When forks clatter against floral printed ceramic, and you take Eddie’s plate, deciding to forgo the dishes, he makes a beeline for the remaining bag, showing you the other items. You nearly cry on the spot, emotions circulating that you aren’t prepared to deal with today.

Turning off the living room television, you follow Eddie into your bedroom and help as he mounts the new rod and hangs your blackout bedroom curtains. And you… maybe sneak a few looks at the way his shirt rides up and his jeans tighten across his ass. It doesn’t take long before he’s got them secured, first breaks of dawn light spilling in through your blinds and illuminating his sweet features. Your fingers itch to touch, and you think he might reach for you, might feel the same wild, heart racing sense of vertigo, yet being serenely satiated.

“Oh yeah, here.” He slides his wallet from his back pocket, the chain dangling across his palm, and he pulls a small square card with a quote on it — out, handing it to you.

One day you will tell your story of how you overcame what you went through and it will be someone else’s survival guide

Below it, you recognize his doodling. A hand drawn, mini bouquet of daisies. He might not be able to afford real flowers, but he can use what skill he does have and draw them for you. He just hopes that you don’t mind. Your eyes are brimmed full of tears when he looks back up to catch your reaction. His gut sinks into his ass, and he fears he overstepped or set something off.

Hell, probably both.

He tries to backtrack. “No, hey. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to make you upset, sweetheart. I just… I was trying to find something to think of to say, because my words kind of get lost in my mouth, catapulting into the space of my brain.”

“Eddie, it’s okay.” Your voice is jagged, tone being dragged over fragments of emotion, throat swollen and damp with it.

He keeps going, more bold to be vocal now. “I think that it’s okay for you to ride it out here. You don’t need to force yourself into ideas of sunshine and physical activity. You’ve been through so much shit, and if your brain is on fire, then you deserve to put it out and let it fuckin’ rest.” He approaches you cautiously, tone gentle and warm like honey going down, almost raspy with it. “You don’t need to force yourself to be okay. Not with anyone, and sure as hell not with me. I mean, you’ve seen my guts hanging out and my nipple ripped off, I’d say we’re well past pretending, aren’t we?”

You’re speechless, body growing heavy and eyes tired. You can’t convey the hope that blooms, popping a bubble through the haze of the fog inside you. It’s not much, but it’s enough to help your psyche stop the race and let you breathe. Eddie is able to sense your fatigue, and he reaches out to squeeze your shoulders, motioning to the hall. “You close these on up and I’ll call you later tonight, yeah?”

He gets about two steps away from you and you’re calling for him. It’s comedic how fast he turns around. “Eddie? Will you stay?”

You’d turned the movie back on, on the set in your room, curtains closed and leaving the expanse shrouded in the glow of the set. Your head is resting on his chest, his jeans on the floor, legs tangled in yours beneath the patchwork quilt. The air conditioner is going, right along with the steady beating of two hearts, and Eddie doesn’t stop you when you knuckle-nudge his splayed palm up, pressing his fingers open to slide your own through. He accepts, squeezing, lacing, looking at you through the opening of light, and you lean into the kiss he presses to your crown. You’ll talk about things later, but for now… It’s okay.

#kristenwrites #my work #my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson angst #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 4 fic #stranger things 4 fanfic #stranger things 4 fanfiction #stranger things 4 blurb #stranger things 4 drabble #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 4

Chapter 1  / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

Steve arrived home to Robin anxiously pacing.

“Steve! Oh my God. I thought you died.”

“Robin, I literally talked to you an hour ago.”

“You could’ve died in the last hour!”

He smiled at her dramatics. She had his location the entire time, and she easily could have called him any time in the last hour if she was that worried.

She wrapped him in a hug, which was shocking enough on its own, but Steve couldn’t help his confusion when she also kissed the top of his head.

She held him for over a minute and Steve started to wonder if someone had died and she didn’t know how to tell him face to face.

“Robs?”

“Dingus?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Are you okay?”

Steve realized Eddie had probably told her everything. Oh for fuck sake.

“I am begging you to never bring anything of this up to me ever. Like, even if you think it’s okay to talk about it, assume it isn’t. I am never going to talk about this with you. Not ever. Not even on my deathbed. Not even when I’m drunk.”

“Eddie said you should.”

“I will. With Eddie. Not you.”

Steve turned to walk to his room and ignore Robin for the rest of the day, but he could hear her footsteps following him.

He sighed and turned around.

“I’m fine. Eddie took care of me. I’m going back there tonight so we can talk. I’ll keep my location on and you can check in with both of us, okay Mom?”

“Wait wait wait wait. You’re going back there tonight?” Then, she seemed to remember how he even ended up with Eddie. “WAIT! Your tattoo! Show me!”

Steve could do that much at least. He’d been talking about this tattoo for so long and he was really excited about how it turned out.

Eddie had unwrapped it and done the first round of cleaning and moisturizing, making sure Steve was paying attention so he could do it by himself today.

He hadn’t been able to look away from it for nearly ten minutes, the colors more beautiful after the redness of his irritated skin went away.

He held his wrist out to Robin, unable to keep the smile from his face as she looked at it and smiled up at him.

“He did great with this. Will is gonna flip.”

“I hope he likes it. He has an appointment with me tomorrow so I’ll be able to show him.”

Will was one of his best kids. He never had to actually worry about his future, Will knew exactly what he wanted, got good grades, had nearly perfect attendance, and worked towards his goals without any help from Steve. He’d been through a lot though as a child, and his mom had insisted that he regularly meet with Steve just to talk.

He came to appointments once a week, but him, along with his two best friends Dustin and Mike, would often spend their lunchtime in Steve’s office. They weren’t exactly popular, and bullies targeted them often for their size and their interest in more nerdy things. Steve let them, even though the principal had told him he was setting them up for failure in real life. Steve always said this was real life and feeling safe wasn’t a failure.

But this tattoo would really mean a lot to Will. He hoped so, at least.

“When are you going to Eddie’s?”

“7.”

“Bring protection.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen.”

Robin just gave him a look and walked away.

Nothing was gonna happen. Eddie said so.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

When Steve got to Eddie’s place, he was already home, and…cooking?

“Something smells good.”

Steve made his way into the house, brushing past Eddie and looking around. He hadn’t spent much time noticing things earlier, but now he could.

There was a lot of art on the walls, but none of it looked like what was at the shop. This looked more abstract, with a few random watercolors sprinkled in. He noticed pictures frames along the shelves and bookcase that held more records than books. The coffee table looked cluttered, mostly books and sketches spread out along the top.

The couch was old, but looked comfy, and the armchair in the corner seemed mostly unused. A few hats hung from the corner it was placed in, none of them looking like anything Eddie would wear.

Did he have a roommate? Is that how he could afford a house?

“You can set your stuff in my room if you want. You remember where it is?”

Eddie’s voice being so close behind him startled him, but he immediately relaxed when he felt a hand on his hip.

“I remember.”

Eddie squeezed his hip once before letting him go, walking towards the kitchen instead of following Steve.

Steve took in the pictures hanging up in the hall, but didn’t get a close look at any, already rushing to get back to Eddie so they could talk. Robin had given him another look before he left that said there’d be more than talking happening tonight, but he really trusted Eddie when he said they’d be taking it easy.

He dropped his bag on Eddie’s bed, smiling to himself when he saw that the bed was made.

Eddie didn’t seem like the type of person to make his bed, so maybe he was trying to impress him?

Steve shook the thought away. Nothing is happening tonight. He may not even want you in his bed after you talk.

He made his way back out to the kitchen, where Eddie was closing the oven door and placing a casserole dish of something that smelled like heaven on the stove.

“What did you make?”

“Breakfast casserole.”

“Breakfast? For dinner?”

Eddie smirked. “No laws can hold me down.”

Steve resisted the smile he felt trying to creep onto his face.

Eddie really did a number on his whole “I don’t smile for anyone” exterior.

“What’s in it?”

“Well, normally I do a french toast one that has fruit and maple syrup, but you didn’t seem like the type to enjoy that.”

“Excuse me? That sounds amazing,” Steve crossed his arms across his chest and stared at Eddie.

“We can have that next time.”

Next time, next time, next time.

“This one is hashbrowns, cheese, eggs, and bacon with biscuits as the base.”

“That sounds…heavy.”

“We can eat heavy. We don’t have any physical activity to commit to later.”

Steve couldn’t help it, he started pouting.

A small part of him had hoped that maybe after they talked, something would happen. Not necessarily sex or even subspace, but some making out, maybe some handjobs? Yeah, he’d hoped.

But he recognized the boundaries Eddie was setting, and he respected him for sticking to them, even if he really wished he didn’t.

Eddie poked Steve’s bottom lip playfully.

“No need to pout. If our discussion goes well, maybe next time?”

“Promise?”

“You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you?”

“I dunno. Am I?”

“And a brat. Noted.”

Steve had never, not even at peak spoiled rich kid, been called a brat. Not even jokingly. He was a little offended, but he could see the hint of a smirk on Eddie’s face letting him know that would be part of their discussion.

“Are we gonna talk during dinner or after?”

“That’s up to you. I’m happy either way, sunshine.”

Steve felt warmth spreading in his chest at the nickname. He’d never been called sunshine either. Being terminally grumpy since your teenage years kind of eliminates that possibility.

“I have some questions so maybe we could start there during dinner?”

Eddie nodded and turned to grab plates and forks for dinner.

“Before you start though, I wanna make sure you know that I will always be honest and do my best to answer your questions, but there are some things I don’t know. I’m not a professional. I’m certainly experienced, but there may be things you want to know that I’ve never done. I don’t want to mislead you, so if there’s stuff you still need to know after this, I have contacts who can probably help.”

Steve felt so out of his depth here. Eddie had fucking contacts for this.

“Stevie? You okay?”

Steve shook himself out of his thoughts. He couldn’t let himself feel nervous about this. Eddie was kind and wanted him to understand and wouldn’t expect anything of him. He could do this.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry. Just feels a little overwhelming.”

Eddie paused mid-scoop and glanced at Steve. He set the serving spoon in the dish and walked the few steps over to Steve, wrapping his arms around him gently and hugging him to his chest.

Steve quickly found his spot, nuzzling against his collarbone like he belonged there.

“That’s why we’re taking this slow, having discussions first. You can’t go into all of it the way you did last night. It’s dangerous.” Eddie rubbed his back slowly and Steve fought back the noises trying to escape from his chest. “I won’t feel comfortable doing anything at all with you until we’re both comfortable, okay?”

Steve nodded against his chest.

Eddie pulled back and tilted his chin up to look at him.

“You have to use your words, sunshine.”

“Okay.”

“You understand what I said?”

“I understand.”

“Good boy.”

Steve couldn’t contain the whine he let out. Jesus Christ, what was happening to him? He’d never been like this. He’d never made that noise before in his life.

“Alright, sunshine. Let’s eat.”

Steve didn’t want to separate from him, but Eddie didn’t go too far. He made sure Steve was right next to him as he grabbed their plates and walked to the table, setting them down next to each other instead of at the chairs across from each other.

“Don’t want you too far,” Eddie said with a fond smile.

Steve hated the way his heart skipped a beat. Eddie was going to send him into cardiac arrest if he kept this up.

But he did his best to ignore it, take a deep breath, and sit down in the chair.

His anxiety was high, and he was worried he may not be able to even eat, but Eddie took a bite and looked at Steve expectantly.

Steve picked up his fork and took a bite.

“Damn, this is good.”

“Thanks, sunshine. It’s hard to fuck this one up, but I’m glad you like it.”

Steve smiled at him and took another bite.

Where to begin?

He knew Eddie would let him lead, acting as more of a guide for the conversation than anything else, but Steve suddenly didn’t know where to begin.

“Um. I guess I kinda wanna start by saying something?”

Eddie nodded, smiling softly at him and showing him that he could be patient with whatever Steve needed to say, even if it took him some time.

“I’m not, like, a virgin. I mean I know when it comes to this stuff I kind of am, but I’ve had a lot of sex. With women and men. I mean, I almost got engaged once. I’m not new to that.” He ignored the amused look on Eddie’s face and continued, though his voice wavered. “And I’ve seen some stuff in porn or whatever. I’m not completely oblivious to how this works.”

“I don’t think you should go off of what you’ve seen in porn.” Eddie cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, I just didn’t want you to think that’s accurate at all. Most vanilla porn isn’t even accurate, let alone any type of BDSM stuff. I don’t want you to think I have a dungeon or something with whips and chains attached to the walls. That isn’t what this is about for me or most anyone, really.”

Steve felt himself flush.

He’d said he wasn’t a virgin, but he’d never talked so openly about sex with anyone. He reminded himself that Eddie was still very much a stranger to him, and this kind of talk is something that close friends or significant others might have.

“What is it about? For you, I mean?”

There. That was a good start. Learning more about what Eddie did might help Steve understand what he was trying to accomplish.

“I mean, for everyone it’s about power and control or submission. But everyone has different ways of accomplishing those things and things they’re comfortable with.” He took another bite and chewed while he seemed to think of his answer. “For me, it’s about being in charge of someone’s release, whether it be sexual or not. Making someone feel good in a way they can’t experience on their own or with someone else. Having the power to know exactly what they need and give it to them or hold back. Find what makes that person tick and use it to make them feel better than ever.”

“That’s what you like? Seeing someone else get off?”

Eddie let out a small chuckle.

“I guess in a simplified way, sure. But that doesn’t always happen. You didn’t get off last night did you?”

“No, but I was dropping apparently.”

“Before that though. You still got to subspace, and you stayed there a while, even though you never got sexual gratification from it. You just felt good. Sometimes feeling good just means a plateau, not a peak and then fall, ya know? I like to help someone maintain that plateau as long as possible.” He took another bite and nudged Steve to do the same. “I love helping someone peak, too. But that isn’t always on the table.”

“What if I want it to be?”

“Getting ahead of yourself, sunshine. How about you have a couple more bites while I talk?”

Steve nodded and took another bite, watching Eddie as he formed his thoughts.

“Sex is obviously a part of this. I won’t say it doesn’t end that way most of the time. But there are parts of this that aren’t sexual at all that are still just as good. Your tattoo wasn’t sexual at all, right?” Steve shook his head. “Exactly. But you got there. Sometimes, it’s more just giving up the control. Some subs don’t even like the sex parts, you know. They like someone to give them rules and tasks to follow and punishments for when they don’t. I have a friend who is a sub who doesn’t even take off his clothes during his sessions. It’s different for everyone and it’s usually trial and error. That’s why safety and trust is such a big part of it.”

Steve felt like his head was spinning.

“Is that why people use safewords?”

“Yeah or the stop light system, or in some cases, just physical signs. That has to be agreed on before you ever go into a scene, even if it's someone you’ve done scenes with before and trust. You may love being spanked until you bruise on Saturday, but end up hating it on Monday if you’re not in the right headspace for it. It’s not just the sub trusting the dom with everything, it’s the dom trusting that the sub will use their safeword if they can’t keep going. Sometimes that’s hard for people to understand. It goes both ways. Both parties have control, just in different ways.”

“You know a lot about this.”

“I’ve been in a few serious relationships with the dynamic and all my friends have been part of the scene for years. What I don’t know firsthand, I’ve heard plenty about.”

“Okay, but what if I do want the sex stuff to be part of it?”

“If you do, then you have to be open about hard limits before you start. You have to have a safeword and use it if things start to go bad. You have to let yourself test the waters, but not jump into them if that makes sense.”

Steve nodded. It did make sense. He was probably jumping the gun a bit, but he felt like maybe he could trust Eddie to find and test his limits.

“So you wouldn’t wanna do that with me?”

“I didn’t say that, Stevie.” Eddie turned to him and placed his hands on his knees, massaging them lightly. “I’m not a jump right into anything kind of guy, even with just plain vanilla sex. But I’m really careful about starting with sex stuff right off the bat. Oh, stop pouting, sunshine. I’m not saying no.”

“But you’re saying no now.”

Steve knew he was still pouting, and maybe being a bit unreasonable. He normally took things slow too, at least when it came to more than random handjobs or blowjobs at the club. It still made him feel like Eddie might not be interested in him the way he was interested in Eddie.

“I’m saying not yet. There’s a difference. I’d love to be able to do that with you. But you need to experience more first.”

“Like what?”

Eddie studied his face for a moment. Steve felt like he could see right through him, which would have alarmed him more if he wasn’t certain that Eddie was going to be able to make him float again.

“You like to be praised.”

It wasn’t a question, but Steve nodded. He’d figured that much out at least.

“That’s a good start. You can be praised for a lot of things. Sometimes just being told to sit still and being told you’re doing good can make a person float, you know.”

Steve didn’t think he could do that. He certainly believed some people could, but he figured it would take a lot more for him.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Do you want to try?”

“Now? I thought we weren’t doing anything tonight?”

Steve was suddenly overwhelmed with nerves again. Despite the fact that he’d wanted something to happen when he first got here, he was now wondering why the hell he thought that was a good idea.

“It doesn’t have to be now. But it would certainly be a good start when you’re ready. Simple, non-sexual, easy to safeword out of if you get uncomfortable, unlikely to drop from it. It’s just an idea. You can always say no.”

Steve didn’t want to say no. He was nervous, sure, but he wanted it. He wanted to try. He wanted to make Eddie proud.

“Could we try tonight?”

“If you finish your supper and we talk about a safeword, yes.”

Steve took three more bites and ignored Eddie’s laughter at his clear excitement.

“So, what can we use for a safeword?”

“Up to you, sunshine. Mine is Metallica.”

“Can I use yours?”

Eddie thought about it for a moment.

“For tonight, yes. But you should have your own in the future.”

“Don’t like sharing?”

Steve smirked at Eddie, who rolled his eyes but smiled fondly back at him.

“More like you may not want to keep doing scenes with me and having your own safeword is best.” He got up and brought their plates to the sink while Steve waited patiently in his chair. “You can go sit on the couch. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

Steve sat on the couch with his hands folded in his lap, trying to push away any nerves he had over what they were about to do. If all went how he hoped, he’d maybe go to subspace again. Eddie sounded like he could get him there, but he didn’t know exactly what Eddie would have to do.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Eddie came into the room and sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into his side.

“Alright. We’re gonna relax for a few minutes first. You’re tense and you won’t be able to just go right into it.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, sunshine. Just let me hold you for a few minutes, okay?”

Steve wanted nothing more than to never leave Eddie’s side, his arm wrapped just tight enough around him so he felt like he couldn’t escape, his body warming him up just enough for comfort.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, and he didn’t really care, all he knew was the next time Eddie moved, he had to open his eyes.

“Alright, sunshine. Gonna move you a little so your head is in my lap, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Eddie adjusted him so he was laying with his head in his lap and his legs out along the length of the couch. He had a hand in Steve’s hair, scratching at his scalp gently, while his other hand was tracing circles on his arm.

“Mmmm. ‘S good,” Steve mumbled against Eddie’s thigh as he let his eyes slip closed again.

“Good.” He felt a gentle tug on his hair and his eyes shot open. Eddie was smirking down at him, but went back to gently scratching at his scalp. “Just testing. You remember the safeword?”

“Metallica.”

“Good boy. You use it the second you feel like you have to.”

Steve ignored the flutters in his stomach at being called a good boy again.

It went on like this for a little while, nothing new happening. Steve started to wonder if Eddie understood what the purpose of this was, when he suddenly felt Eddie stop all movement.

He whimpered, then felt Eddie’s hand tug at his hair harder.

“You have to stay quiet, sunshine. Keep being a good boy for me.”

His tone was different. Not quite stern, but not as soft as before either. Steve didn’t have to know him better to know that he should listen to him.

“I’m going to watch a show. You just sit right there for me and look pretty.”

Oh. Jesus Christ.

Steve was already hard. From that? Really Steve?

He managed to stay quiet this time, but he knew the second Eddie touched him again he would moan.

But Eddie didn’t touch him again.

He turned on the tv and casually looked for a channel. When he found one, he watched with his hands by his sides, not even resting against Steve’s skin.

Steve knew this must be part of it or they wouldn’t be doing it, but he felt himself growing frustrated at not getting any attention.

Minutes passed like that. Steve wondered when Eddie would acknowledge him again, but didn’t want to risk saying something.

Then a hand was in his hair, playing with the ends as if Eddie had never stopped.

Steve let out a content sigh and closed his eyes again.

“Being so good for me, sunshine.”

Steve smiled to himself, keeping his eyes closed so he could relax fully against Eddie’s lap.

The noise from the tv turned distant, but the fingers in his hair felt like fire. Or maybe ice. Both? Could be both. They just felt nice.

Steve drifted, not realizing he was going until he was already gone.

Eddie knew the moment it happened’ Steve’s entire body relaxed entirely against him and the couch, and he let out a sigh that could’ve been held in for years with how loud it was. He didn’t open his eyes, but Eddie didn’t need to see them to know they’d be glazed over.

“So perfect, Stevie. Feeling good, huh?”

“Mmm.”

Eddie smiled down at him, even though he wouldn’t see it.

He wouldn’t let him stay down for long, just for the rest of the show.

Not that he was watching the show.

Not when he had Steve in his lap, floating away because of his gentle touches and words.

Chapter 5

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#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #chapter 4 #grumpy sunshine trope #tattoo artist eddie munson #guidance counselor steve harrington #dom/sub #dom eddie munson #sub steve harrington

[little-annie]

In This Lifetime

---

Vecna's dead and the gates are closed and life is finally back to normal.

Well except for one thing.

Eddie's entire view of Steve Harrington has been tipped on its axis, shattered, booted off a fucking cliff. Whatever you want to call it. Because, well, the guy's not an asshole. He's strong and passionate and so goddamn caring. He's probably the kindest, most giving person Eddie's ever met and although he'd like to say he doesn't know what to think of it, we'll he does. And he thinks he's in love.

Steve Harrington is like fucking sunshine and unfortunately for Eddie's fragile heart, that glow of light doesn't fade.

They become friends. Best Friends. Nearly inseparable. Attached at the hip throughout the years.

They move to Chicago together, rent a shitty two bedroom apartment that maybe as well be one because they still have nightmares and being plastered next to one another seems to calm those terrors.

They laugh and they sing and they dance around the kitchen while they smile and cook and inevitably burn whatever meal they had planned, opting to order pizza instead.

Eddie's in a band and Steve never misses a show.

Steve's in school, planning to become a Guidance Counselor and Eddie's by his side quizzing him with the reward of candy in hand.

It's perfect, living life together in domestic bliss. Even if all they are is only just friends.

But it's still perfect all the same and if it was up to Eddie, he'd spend the rest of his life in these years. Repeat them again and again, if only to fall asleep at Steve's side and wake up to honey-brown eyes every morning.

But he knows it can't always be like this and that's why this is the hardest thing he's ever done.

This is the hardest thing he's ever done, and he's done some difficult shit. Like surviving a near death experience in literal hell being the main contender. But sitting across from Steve Harrington as he turns a little golden ring between his fingers and goes over his proposal plan, yeah that's pretty fucking difficult.

And it shouldn't be, he should be excited, he should be cheering for his friend but there's a gnawing feeling in his gut that's telling him it should be him. It should be him that Steve drops to a knee for, it should be him that Steve professes his undying love to, it should be him that'll one day get to call this man his husband.

But it's not. It's not because even though he's known this ragtag group of monster hunters for years now he's never been able to come to terms with telling them that he's gay and he sure as shit hasn't come to terms with telling Steve Harrington that he loves him and loves him in a very much not 'just friends' kind of way.

So that's why when Steve asks him what he should say to this woman [Becky, who quite frankly could double as Eddie's twin] he spills the beans. In a very subtle way he supposes. He doesn't come out, doesn't outright tell Steve he loves him, but as he's telling Steve what to say to his future fiancé, he's letting his emotions come out like word vomit, only wishing Steve knew he was talking about him.

"I don't know man." Eddie huffs, shuffling uncomfortably in his chair, eyes avoiding Steve's as he contemplates his words.

But it's hardly more than a few seconds before they come tumbling out, Eddie sucking in shaky breath before he stares into the carpet and begins to speak, "Tell her she's like sunshine, beautiful and bold and the source of life. That she's like the blood in your veins, forever present in the most beautiful way and the only thing that keeps your heart beating. Tell her that even on the most difficult days that she's the one you want to see, the one you want to hold, the one that makes you take the breath you need and steady your heart when it's beating out of control."

It's a building thing, slowly growing out of control, he can feel his pulse thrumming in his veins and he's beginning to think he might just do something crazy. He pauses for a moment, gauging Steve's expression. He'd gone to get them beer and hasn't bothered to sit back down since Eddie began talking. There's an indecipherable expression on his face and he's stood still, in front of the couch, beers on the coffee table and he's silent, waiting for Eddie to continue.

And you know, if Eddie was a normal man he'd stay in his chair, talk to his friend from an acceptable distance away and not profess his love, but he's not. He's a showman and as his acting skills get the best of him, he's moving, shuffling across the carpet, taking Steve's hand in his own and kneeling before him. Because why not make this a harder interaction for himself. Christ, it nearly feels like the real thing as he looks into Steve's eyes and shuffles the littlest amount closer.

Eddie shudders a breath, taking a single second to appreciate this moment, even if it'll never truly be real and then he continues, "You get down on your goddamn knee Steve Harrington and you say, ' Sweetheart you're the only thing that keeps me alive in this crazy fucked up world. Having you in my arms and my heart keeps me steady and breathing. I've been through some shit, but I'd go through it all again to find you in the end. The blood, the sweat, the tears, nearly fucking dying to be by your side for the rest of my life. I want to grow old with you Darling, I want us to grey and weather together. To find ourselves fifty years from now watching our kids and our grandkids; all the life we've brought into this world. All the love our life together has brought into existence."

Eddie's crying now, because of course he is, he's confessing his love to someone he knows will never hold the same emotions for him, but through a watery laugh and a sniffle he carries on, tightening his grip on Steve's hands.

"I want you in this lifetime and the next, in any way that you'll have me. I can't bear the thought of a single day without you let alone an entire lifetime. I'll find you, I promise I will Sweetheart, but for this lifetime, I ask that you spend the remainder of it with me."

It's cheesy, he knows, but it seems to take effect because as he looks into the eyes of the man above him he sees the swell of tears gathering along thick dark lashes.

The room's suddenly silent, save for the pounding of Eddie's pulse in his ears and the hope that Steve didn't see through his actions or words. That all he saw was his rather expressive friend acting out as per usual.

But a tear finally escapes and rolls down Steve's tanned cheek and a rather aggressive sob breaks past his lips.

Eddie's to his feet in seconds pulling Steve to his chest, one arm firmly around his waist while another wraps around his shoulders and cradles a head of mousy hair as close as he can. Steve's sobbing, short shaky breaths and surely there's snot and tears staining Eddie's shirt, but it's not like he can say much, what with silent tears streaming down his own cheeks and dripping to Steve's hair.

Steve hiccups around a sob, voice shaky and muffled against Eddie's shoulder, "I can't do this."

God, that's not what Eddie wanted to do, he didn't mean to scare Steve away from his impending engagement. No matter how much he wished it was him. He loves Steve, but if he can't have him, he just wants him to be happy. He deserves happiness. He deserves love.

Even if it's not with him.

Eddie cards his fingers soothingly through Steve's hair as he speaks, "Yes you can. I know you can. Steve, you love her, you're just scared. You can do this."

Another sob heaves against Eddie's chest while Steve continues to shake in his arms, "I can't Eddie."

"Why not Sweetheart?"

Steve's knees give out as a pained nose escapes his throat, dropping to the floor, taking Eddie with him, he doesn't answer, only continues to cry and burrow into Eddie's chest upon settling into their new position on the ground.

He's verging on a panic attack, Eddie knows this, he's seen it many times before. The way Steve's fists clench in his shirt and his breaths are short and sudden, gasping for air that's not filling his lungs, he's flushed white and Eddie knows it's only a matter of time before he gets sick.

"Stevie, come on, you gotta settle down. I'm sorry if I said anything wrong, I didn't mean to if I did. We can talk about it later. But right now you just gotta breathe for me okay." Eddie grabs Steve's hand, tight fist and all and holds it against his chest, allowing Steve to feel his steady breaths, "Breathe in with me, come on Big Guy. Take a deep breath in." Eddie takes a large lungful and holds it for a second, waiting for Steve to do the same and even though it's shaky and raspy he manages.

They repeat this process ten times over, Steve's head and hand now resting against Eddie's chest, their backs to the couch, the rooms fallen silent enough that only muffled sniffles are audible aside from the hum of electricity and the joyous screams of children outside.

After a moment, Steve wiggles himself closer, if even possible and again states, "Eddie, I can't do this."

He's not quite sure how to answer, really. Should he push or should he allow Steve to call off the engagement before it even happens. Lord knows where his own wishes lie. "You wanna tell me why you think you can't do this?"

Steve's breathing picks up again, but before he can reach hysterics Eddie's fingers card through his hair and he soothes Steve back to baseline.

"You," Steve whispers after quite some time of Eddie waiting for a response. It's a quiet thing, Eddie wouldn't have even heard it if he wasn't intentionally listening for Steve to say something.

It's a pain in the chest to know he may be the reason for Steve not to propose, sure he wished it wouldn't happen, but not like this. For him to say something so stupid that makes Steve call the whole thing off, "I'm sorry if I-"

He doesn't have time to finish his sentence before Steve's speaking, "No, not like that, you have nothing to be sorry for Eds. Its just- fuck- I wish I could tell you."

Combing his fingers through Steve's hair, Eddie reassures, "Steve, you can tell me. Please. I want to help."

Steve shakes his head, wrapping an arm tight around Eddie's waist, tucking his head in close, "It's nothing you can help with Eddie."

Nosing against the side of Steve's head, hair tickling his nose, Eddie whispers, soft, gentle, scared to frighten Steve off, "Try me."

And then it's silent. Dead quiet and for quite a long while. He knows Steve will answer, he knows he's just gathering his words, sorting things out before he speaks. It's obviously something big, something important to have warranted such a reaction from such a strong man.

It's with a sudden movement that Steve's sitting upright, turning to face Eddie with the appearance of confidence and sheer fear on his face. He looks fucking terrified. Working his jaw, eyes darting all over Eddie's face before he finally settles on his eyes and speaks, "I love you, okay." The words are far from gentle, they're sharp, rushed, sudden, like if he didn't get them out they'd burn a hole in his throat, but before Eddie has a second to even process those few words, Steve's barreling on.

"And when you were down on your knee infront of me, I wanted nothing more than for that to be the real thing, for those words to actually be directed towards me because I love you so fucking much it hurts. And I get it, I do. I know you're straight and we can never be a thing or really even get married but Eds, fuck, I love you so much and I can't marry Becky knowing I feel that way about you. I was going to try because I knew this could ne-"

He knows what Steve was meaning to say, but Eddie had to cut him off before those words could be spoken into existence because they're wrong. It can happen. Holy fucking Christ, Steve's loves him. It can all happen.

"I love you too," he says with such haste, taking Steve's face into his hands as he speaks with so much passion it nearly hurts, "-so much."

Cheeks squished in Eddie's grasp, Steve's eyes begin to well with tears once again, but now, now a smile is fighting its way to his lips, only growing with utter disbelief as Eddie quietly says, "and I meant every word of it. Every fucking word Sweetheart."

Steve's eyes search Eddie's own for only half a second before their lips crash together. It's a feverish thing, years of pent up love and need crammed into a single embrace, but their lips move as if they've met a million times before. And maybe they have. Maybe through the thousands of years this little rock in space has been turning, they've never left one another's side. Maybe they do find each other in every lifetime. Maybe they fall in love against all odds. Maybe this lifetime is no different.

Many Years Later

Turns out, it's not different at all.

When the time comes, so does the real proposal. It's been planned for years and when word of legalisation reaches Eddie's ears he's running to Steve. Dashing through streets, shouldering past strangers and dropping with a painful thud to the hardwood of Steve's office floor. In those few short moments to follow, the life he wished to have so many years ago becomes a reality.

Steve's his fiancé.

Soon to be his husband.

In this lifetime and the next.

---

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic rec #steddie fanfiction #steddie headcanon #steddie fic #steddie fandom #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve x eddie #eddie x steve

[audhd-nightwing]

give me soft guidance counselor steve harrington. give me steve wearing cozy sweaters and glasses, decorating his little office with comic book memorabilia, a corroded coffin poster, movie posters, drawings from will, etc.

give me steve having a bunch of stim toys all over his office, and a few he just carries around. give me steve talking to kids and actually getting them to open up, always knowing the right thing to say

give me steve helping kids with learning difficulties or bad home environments. give me steve having a ‘safe space’ sticker on his door and being there for queer kids who don’t have anyone else to talk to

give me a steve whose edges have softened with time, who isn’t insecure about his scars or his trauma. give me steve being living proof to his students that things do get better

#stranger things #steve harrington #guidance counselor au #steve stranger things #future au #soft steve harrington #steve harrington is good with kids #bisexual steve harrington #adhd steve harrington #autistic steve harrington #corroded coffin #steddie #implied steddie #will byers

[juicinmyjams]

untitled gym class fic

A ball whistles past his face, centimeters from his nose. 

Eddie doesn’t want to be here. 

He wouldn’t be here under normal circumstances but his guidance counselor had practically hunted him down, dragged him to her office, and told him that if he didn’t start getting his ass to class and actually staying there, it would be Hawkins High Senior Year, round three for him. 

So now, instead of spending fourth period doing literally anything else, he’s here, in gym class, fighting for his life during the dodgeball unit. 

Or, more like ducking and diving and weaving and running for it, death grip on the ball he’s had since the beginning of the match, fingers creaking from how hard he’s holding it. It’s all about survival and ignoring the stitch in his side. 

There’s something in the air today and Eddie would put good fucking money on it being Harrington and Hargrove on opposite teams. He’s never been one for high school politics but he would have had to smoke his whole stash and then dip into his supplies to miss the power struggle between those two. Especially the Monday they both came to school, beat to hell and back. No one could figure out what happened and both of them were silent about it. 

Still, it never really concerned Eddie until right now that he’s smack in the middle of the fucking fire fight the two have instigated in the middle of 4th period. 

And it’s a big one. He’d thought, maybe like an idiot, that it would have fizzled out. King Steve had seemed to be more than happy to give up his crown, letting Hargrove slip into the power vacuum he’d left behind. 

Until today. 

It’s a weird place to make a stand, the dodgeball court in gym class. Eddie’s not sure what changed, but it’s like the return of the fucking king here. Harrington’s a live wire, like he used to be. And Hargrove’s putting up a hell of a fight about it, giving back as good as he gets.

Maybe something happened over the weekend, or somebody said something in the locker rooms. 

Whatever it is, Harrington is in top form today, running around the court, nigh untouchable as he bends to scoop up rubber balls and hurl them back across the center divide, thighs flexing in those short Hawkins High P.E uniform shorts. 

Another ball comes at Eddie and he doesn’t have time to duck, brain still lagging over the mole on Harrington’s mid-thigh. All he can do is raise his hands to block. It doesn’t hit him, just bounces off the one he’s been holding, sending it up into the air. 

Harrington is on it immediately, catching it before it hits the ground and then speedballing it back to the other side, getting two people out in one go. 

“Nice one, Munson!” He says, looks up and-

Oh, it’s horrible. Awful. The worst thing that’s ever happened to Eddie. 

The guys got color high on his cheeks, flushed from battle and his hair is still fucking good, even as it flops over his forhead. His eyes are the worst, sparkling, with crinkles around the corners and he’s smiling, full on, like he’s having a blast. 

All Eddie can do is blink, rapidly as his brain forces him to auto-reboot on the spot. 

Then, someone says something. Eddie doesn’t know who it is at first, or what is said, still can’t pull himself away from Harrington’s face so he sees the whole thing, as the guy looks away, watches as the joy slides right off only stopping until he’s hit a frown.

It’s fucking criminal. 

Eddie follows Harrington’s line of sight, finds Hargrove at the other end. The guy also has a kind of manic glee on his face, one that comes out at parties, when he’s being a dick. There’s nothing about it that’s happy, only a sick kind of triumph as whatever he says hits home. 

It’s not planned, what happens next. Eddie doesn’t even think about it until he’s got his ball in hand, cocked and ready to go. And then he’s throwing, releasing, watching as it goes sailing through the air. 

As it connects with Hargrove’s upper chest. As he recoils, almost in slow motion, and this time it's his face that morphs, to anger, surprise. The ball bounces off of him and falls to the floor, dribbling away in the sudden silence of the gym as everyone falls quiet to watch. 

Hargrove stands there almost in shock, until the teacher blows the whistle and tells him he’s out. 

And then there’s laughter, right next to Eddie. Harrington’s not smiling like he was, but it’s close. A little bit of sunshine in the gross gym, his laugh sending Eddie’s stomach straight into knots. The noise of the game kicks back in as people start up again. 

“Great throw, man!” 

And then he’s coming for Eddie, hand raised, still fucking laughing. 

Eddie’s no good at the high five thing that sports guys do, but he manages okay, Harrington’s sweaty palm meeting his own with a satisfying clap.

These are the most coordinated five seconds of Eddie’s life and he can’t believe they’re happening during a dodgeball game. 

Harrington crosses behind him, to head back into the fray and-

And then there’s a pat, firm and quick. Unmistakable. Right on Eddie’s left ass cheek. 

Eddie’s brain shorts. Vacates the premise entirely and he’s left blinking after Harrington as he doesn’t look back, carries on dealing out carnage, dodgeball style. Picking up balls and launching them across the court with precision. Going on with life like he didn't just completely alter Eddie's.

Eddie’s still watching, not with an open mouth, definitely no, when suddenly he sees stars.

The sting of rubber doesn’t register until a few seconds later, and it’s not until he hears the whistle of the teacher does he realize that he’s been hit, smacked right across the face. 

He’s out. 

He turns and walks on jelly legs, to the bleachers. Finds a spot he doesn’t have to climb for and sinks to his seat.

-

This comes from me being too competitive at my recreational sports league and this post by @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe

EDIT: how could i forget this post by @yudol-skorbi which is always the high school steddie vibe to me

#steddie brainrot #steddie fic #steddie #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steddie au #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #juicewrites #mywriting

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

call me sunshine, send me to space

by steddieas_shegoes

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Will Byers, Chrissy Cunningham Additional Tags: Gay Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Tattoo Artist Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Gets a Tattoo, sunshine eddie munson, grumpy steve harrington, Accidental Subspace, Sub Steve Harrington, Dom Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Guidance Counselor Steve Harrington, this is because of tumblr polls answers, what a combo, fast burn, like a damn forest fire, Steve Harrington Has a Praise Kink, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, Mildly Dubious Consent, but only brief mention and not between eddie and steve!!!, Baby Girl Steve Harrington, Sub Drop, Dom Drop, Aftercare, Soft Eddie Munson, Frottage, Dirty Talk, Platonic Soulmates, Platonic Stobin, Hand Jobs, Finger Sucking, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Wet & Messy, Major Illness, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Spit As Lube, Past Child Abuse, Child Neglect, very mild and briefly discussed, Shower Sex, Face Slapping, Hand Feeding, Nightmares, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Edging, Anal Sex, Unsafe Sex, but it's safe because they're clean and ask first, Feminization, Overstimulation, Light Angst, Spit Kink, Cock Warming, Anal Plug, Steve Harrington Wears Panties, Steve Harrington Wears Makeup, Steve Harrington Wears Nail Polish Words: 89,621 Chapters: 18/18

Summary

“What size were you thinking? Where’s this going?” Steve pointed to the middle one, barely an inch wide. “I was thinking my wrist?” Eddie smiled at him. “Sounds good, sunshine.” Oh. That was not good. That little thing his stomach just did? Nope. Not good at all.

#steddie #steddie fic rec #multi-chaptered #50-100k #au modern #tattoo artist eddie