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nancywheelersgirlfriend · 2 years

Note

Hi :) if requests are open, Steddie in which Steve try’s to put the legendary Harrington Charm on Eddie, but bc the Harrington Charm requires acting overly complimentary/kinda fake Eddie assumes Steve’s making fun of him (y’know, that type of bullying where someone’s like “oh wow is that your DND notebook? Soo cool :)” but then they go laugh at you behind your back).

Eddie gets pissed (understandably) and tells him to knock it off. Steve thinks Eddie hates him, Robin doesn’t know what to do, and finally Nancy of all people has to go to Eddie and be like. Sir, he is trying to fuck you- forgive him bc he is terrible at it. Also could end in a “all you had to do is be yourself” stupid fluffy moment :)

Even if you don’t get to this, I hope you like the concept, have a nice day :D !!

hello!! loved this request :) hope u enjoy! i love writing for the fruity four hehe

lonesome town (4,434 words)

Eddie’d seriously thought he was different. Why he’d let himself get tricked, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was Robin’s insistence on the quality of her best friend. Or Nancy’s apparent unending forgiveness and love for a guy she’d had a fairly painful breakup with. Or Dustin’s younger brother syndrome, which made him talk his head off about the guy whenever Eddie was within six feet of him. Whichever it was, maybe a mix of the three (and an unspoken small crush on him), Eddie had deluded himself into thinking Steve Harrington wasn’t the world’s biggest douche.

But he definitely was. ‘Cause here Eddie was, just trying to talk Robin about joining their summer campaign, when Steve suddenly leaned over the Family Video counter with a great, toothy smile on his face. Not that Eddie had seen it up close and personal before, but he recongized that smile - Steve had worn it near constantly in the hallways, padding after big-haired girls who he’d done something to upset. Why Eddie was now the subject of said fake-pitiful expression, he had no idea. But he didn’t like it. Or the shit it did to his stomach.

“Do you need something?” Eddie asked. Steve’s grin only worsened. His fingers reached out to tap at the pages Eddie had spread across the sticky purple counter - character sheets, story notes, all Robin asked to check out when he’d dropped her off the night before. Eddie held back a vicious snarl at the lack of personal space.

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” Steve replied cheekily. “What’s this? Dragons and Dungeons stuff?”

“It’s Dungeons and Dragons,” Eddie corrected, mentally steeling himself. He hadn’t gotten five seconds to take a breath before Steve Harrington, apparently, decided to go in on him for playing a so-called nerd game. As if his pseudo baby brother didn’t adore the same thing.

“Right,” Steve said quickly, seemingly abashed. But was that pink trustworthy when it was paired with those eyes, that smile? Eddie leaned as far away from the counter as possible but Steve had him metaphorically trapped. “Anyway - what is all this stuff? Looks cool.” Eddie didn’t like the way he said the word ‘cool’. Not one fucking bit.

Steve said it in the way bullies tended to say that shit. Specifically one instance in eighth grade, when Eddie had been plotting out a campaign at lunch and Tommy H’s tiny shadow had cast its way over his table. He’d picked up a character sheet, turned his toad face to Eddie, and said: “This is so cool, Munson. Mind if I borrow it?” Eddie didn’t reply. The paper was in his hand - too late to protest now, anyway.

Except they’d also borrowed Eddie, because he ended up side-by-side with the character sheet, headfirst in the dumpster out by the teacher’s parking lot.

“Sure,” Eddie replied drily. Steve’s eyes, for a moment, flashed an ounce of surprise. Eddie fought the urge to gloat. Yeah - they weren’t in high school anymore. There were no more dumpsters he was gonna get thrown into, especially not by some peaked grad like Steve. Even if said grad was incredibly attractive. It honestly made Eddie trust him less; who can be that hot and also nice at the same time? It was physically impossible.

But the surprise was gone so fast Eddie nearly assumed he’d imagined it. The megawatt smile was back as Steve practically slobbered all over his hard work, probably just itching to rip it up or toss it in a trashcan or something equally meatheaded.

“Is this your character?” Steve asked, and if Eddie didn’t know any better he would’ve said there was some wonder in Steve’s voice. Eddie was quick to shoot out a hand and snatch the paper back from where it’d been able to enter Steve’s hand (his fingers were right on the edge). Steve’s head snapped up in confusion. It just made Eddie more infuriated. How could he be acting like this? “Alright.”

Eddie huffed, not bothering with words. He folded up the character sheet (carefully avoiding too strong of a crease) and tucked it in his back pocket, away from grabbing hands or drooling jocks. When he looked back up from where he’d been folding it, he realized with distant horror that Steve had retrieved his Player’s Handbook from the bottom of the stack and was now flipping through it.

“What are you doing with that?” Eddie asked, embarrassed he sounded so desperate. But they were expensive. And he did not need to spend his afternoon as a fully twenty-year-old man fishing some book from a dumpster.

“Reading,” Steve said. Eddie could’ve killed him.

“Like you know how to,” Eddie muttered. He could practically hear the blood rushing through his ears when Steve laughed. As if they were sharing a joke - no, worse. As if Eddie was the joke.

“Who’s this?” Steve asked, flipping around the book and pointing at a dwarf. “He looks cute.”

“Cute?” Eddie mimicked. Steve’s face gave nothing away. His meat fingers (okay - maybe they weren’t meat, they were actually pretty nice and tan from the summer sun, but that’s beside the point) flipped to the next page. He laughed again, this time at a little drawing of a dwarf and elf next to each other.

“Did you draw these?” Steve asked. Eddie’d had enough.

“Are you a fucking idiot?” Eddie replied sharply. Steve looked up slowly from the book. Now the previous confusion soaked on his features, faltering that dumb megawhatt smile. Some irrational, unevolved part of Eddie’s brain felt guilty. The rest took pride in defeating him at his own game. Eddie lunged over the counter, grabbing the book from Steve’s hands and back into the safety of his own before anything rash could happen.

“Is there something wrong, dude?” Steve asked, puppy-dog mode fully activated. Eddie resisted the urge to slap him. Instead he quickly collected his shit, pulling it to his chest as protectively as possible - Handbook included.

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” Eddie snapped. “I know I’m a freak. Jesus, I really thought you were better than this. Egg on my fuckin’ face, right?” With that and a shake of his head, he was storming out of Family Video; nearly barreling over a mom and child scouring the Animated section in the process. What a fool he’d been.

Steve stood slackjawed at the Family Video counter, utterly stumped. What the fuck had just happened?

“Close your mouth, you’re catching flies,” Robin popped up behind him, choosing possibly the worst moment to come back from helping some old lady find Milo and Otis and join him at the counter. “Hey - where’s Ed?” Steve clamped his mouth shut and blinked.

“He left,” Steve said after a pregnant pause, still standing around like an idiot and staring through the glass front doors where Eddie had been at mere seconds before. The van peeled out of the parking lot like it was being chased by some big, hungry animal.

“Why?” Robin asked, following his line of sight into the now Eddie-less store. “He was gonna explain how to make a D&D character to me - I told him to wait.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed distantly. He could feel Robin’s beady little gaze hitting the side of his face, soaked with confusion and judgement.

“What’d you do?” She asked, and he rushed to speak at the same time:

“I didn’t do anything!”

They stared each other down for a beat, two, before Steve sighed and practically collapsed onto the counter.

“Okay, so, I think I did something,” Steve amended. Robin’s responding groan was long and dramatic. “I said I think. It was very confusing.”

“It’s a shock you’re thinking at all,” Robin mumbled under her breath, but her hand came up to rub comfortingly on his back all the same. “What happened?”

“I was just trying to, um. Do what you told me to do,” Steve rushed out in one breath. He lifted his head into his hands, if only to cover the tips of his ears (which were rushing to turn red).

“What I told you…” Robin repeated, thinking hard. Then she gasped in understanding and suddenly her face was pressed close beside his. She was hanging over the counter the same as him with a crooked, teasing grin spilting across her face. “You were flirting with him?”

“Jesus, scream it, would you?” He snapped in reply, face now a furious red. Robin’s grin only grew.

“And your flirting made him storm out,” Robin continued. The calming hand turned into an annoying, poking finger - digging into the small of his back and making him straighten up fast. “That’s fucking hilarious. That’s so funny.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Steve muttered, rolling his eyes. “I have no fucking idea what I did wrong.”

“Can I check this out?” A young boy held up a VHS copy of The Long, Long Trailer. Robin held up a hand to his face, not bothering to address him or even cast a glance in his direction. Yeah, they were probably gonna get fired.

“Give me a play-by-play,” She commanded. Steve stepped back until his spine hit the counter. He leaned up on his elbows and swallowed down his raging embarrassment.

“I tried to ask questions about, um. Dungeons and Dragons,” He said, remembering the name at the last possible second and snapping excitedly. “‘Cause he had all that shit out. I wanted him to think I was cultured and interesting.”

“Because that’s the vibe you give off,” Robin agreed. He pretended not to hear the dripping sarcasm.

“But then he was just, like, really rude to me about it, and said-” Steve cut himself off, remembering how much his stomach had dropped at Eddie’s last words. “He called me a piece of shit. Said that he ‘already knew he was a freak’ and that he thought I was different.” He looked up from where he’d been tracing the pattern on the carpet with the toe of his sneakers to see Robin with a similarly stunned expression on her face. Maybe it’d been a poor choice going to her for advice - they shared brains and IQs. What the hell was she gonna know?

“Woah,” Was all Robin said.

“Can I please check this out?” The kid waved the VHS tape in Steve’s face, who coughed himself back into the present and managed a half-assed nod. As Steve went through the normal song-and-dance of instructing the kid on the renting rules and handing over his quarter in change, Robin tapped out a little pattern on the counter. When he finally got another chance to look back at her, she looked completely stumped.

“Woah,” Robin said again.

“He hates me,” Steve lamented, hanging his head and letting his hair hang down, limp and sad, in front of his eyes. “I have no idea what I did but I must’ve done something.”

“You must’ve,” Robin agreed distantly. “But what?”

“That’s what I’m asking you!” Steve nearly shouted, voice going up a humiliating set of octaves. Robin hummed and turned back to the awaiting stack of VHS tapes, ready to be marked down.

Steve spent the next hour pretending to rewind tapes and instead drowning in self-pity. It was pretty bad, even for him. Somehow he’d managed to make Eddie hate him in a thirty second interaction. That had to be some kind of record. Maybe he’d totally misread their previous friendship - conversations through the windows of their cars while dropping the kids off, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder at some crowded Party gettogether, sharing a cigarette out on Steve’s front porch. He really thought he was getting somewhere, with somebody who understood him.

“You know, Steve, I’m pretty sure Japan can hear you sighing at this point,” Robin spoke up from her spot on the opposite end of the store, where she was unpackaging at Highlander display to be set up at the front window. Steve just sighed again, this time a little longer and louder for her benefit. He leaned forward until his nose hit the top of the boxset and rested the side of his head against the top. It buzzed beneath him. God, he was such a fucking idiot.

“God, I’m such a fucking idiot,” He said, because he knew Robin would agree.

“Here’s my perfect idea,” She said, suddenly two inches away from him on the other side of the television and wearing that dumb grin again. Steve leapt about a foot away. He’d been jumpy ever since, uh. Between demogorgon attack 2 and 3, for sure. “You should talk to Nancy.”

“Talk to my ex-girlfriend about Eddie?” Steve repeated, making sure to put emphasis on the ‘ex-girlfriend’ part. Yeah, he loved Nance - not like that - and she loved him. Didn’t mean they were healed enough to start chatting about other romantic interests.

“She’s, like, the smartest person I know,” Robin protested. He ignored the spaced out look in her eyes when she said that.

“No, I-” Steve waved her off, turning around to head back into the Employee’s Only kitchen. “I’m not gonna do that. I’ll just let it simmer and die, and then I’ll die.”

“You are such a drama queen,” Robin replied, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. “If you don’t talk to Nance, then I’ll do it for you.”

“Should’ve expected it, you guys share a fucking brain at this point,” Steve got out, before he shut the door to the employee’s room and effectively disappeared to mope for the rest of his shift.

“What?”

Robin closed her eyes and pressed the receiver closer to her face, as if it was actually Nancy and not just Nancy’s voice coming from fifteen miles away.

“Steve and Eddie are being idiots,” She hissed, albeit a little louder than the first time.

“That’s what I thought you said.”

“I need your help,” Robin added, waving her arm in a fast, circular motion as if Nancy could see it. Around her Family Video died a quiet death - night shifts were the worst. “I think I can hear Steve crying in the break room.” Alright, that was an exaggeration. But not a big one. He was definitely sniffling a little.

“What’d happened this time?”

“Eddie stopped by to show me the D&D basics, but fuckin’ Mrs. Westbrook caught me in her death grip and forced me to find this stupid movie about a cat, or something. By the time I got back to the counter he was peeling out of the parking lot and Steve looked like a dog that’d just gotten kicked in the fucking face,” Robin explained in a long-winded breath, her go-to way for relying information. Nancy, bless her, was unfazed. She was used to it at this point.

“Do you know any details?”

“Steve’d tried to ask him some questions about it,” Robin said, racking her breath to remember exactly what Steve’d said. See, this is why shit never got done in their friend group. Information was relayed like a game of telephone. Still she tried her best. “And apparently, as Eddie was storming out, he’d said that he’d thought Steve was different - or better than that, something along those lines.” Nancy hummed. Robin twisted the phone cord around her finger tight enough to sting, just so that she could recover a little from the low tones of Nancy’s voice.

“I think I know what happened,” Nancy finally said. Robin could practically hear her connecting red-yarn dots in her mind and it made her want to scream into her shirt. Instead she grinned excitedly and took a deep breath.

“Thank God, I have no clue,” Robin admitted with a little, bashful laugh.

“I’ll stop by Ed’s tomorrow,” Nancy offered. “I’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

“Steve and I have work here tomorrow,” Robin reminded her. “In case he has to do some sort of grand, romantic confession.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it. Night, Robin.”

“Goodnight, Nance,” Robin rushed out in an embarrassing whisper/whimper. As Nancy clicked the receiver back into its holder and the line went dead, she grimaced for herself. First step: get Steve to stop making an utter fool out of himself. And then, maybe he when figured that out, he could help her figure it out too.

Eddie woke up from his hate-fueled nap passed out on the motel couch by a rapping at his front door. Groggily he squinted in the vague direction of the alarm clock - it blinked a dull two. Two in the morning? The afternoon? He had no clue. Judging by the sunlight peeking through the blinds, he guessed it was the latter.

“I’m asleep,” He called out, voice faltering from his exhaustion.

“Eddie, get your ass out here,” Nancy Wheeler said on the other side. And damn - she was the one in charge. Who was he not to listen to her?

She stood outside the door and waited, tapping her flat-covered foot onto the broken pavement and listening to him practically tear apart the motel room in search for a relatively clean pair of jeans. When the jeans were finally located, Eddie opened the door thankfully clothed and face excited to see her.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Lady Wheeler?” He greeted, leaning on the doorway with his permanently leather-jacketed arm (despite it being in the mid-80s). Nancy couldn’t help but smile a little at his dorky way of talking but she tried to roll her eyes to cover it up.

“I heard you and Steve got into a little fight yesterday,” Nancy said. Eddie’s arm immediately fell from the doorway as he let out a loud groan, stepping back into the motel room. Nancy took that as silent invitation to let herself in, plopping herself down on the bed closest to the door.

“Did he send you to apologize for him?” Eddie asked incredously, back now turned to her and face resolute in the shitty motel mirror. Nancy shrugged.

“Kind of?” Nancy replied, voice tilting in a question. “Robin sent me to apologize on his behalf because currently he’s crying. Or, I think so. She was unclear on that part.”

“He’s crying?” Eddie asked, laughing in shock.

“Whatever happened really got under his skin,” Nancy allowed. “Again, whether or not he was crying - I have no idea.”

“He’s crying,” Eddie decided. Nancy let him, watching with fond eyes as he began to pace back and forth in front of her. “Do you know what happened?”

“I know what Robin knows about what happened.”

“God, you guys are annoying,” He rolled his eyes. “Steve was making fun of me. I shouldn’t be expected to put up with that.”

“Making fun of you?” Nancy repeated. And then she was laughing, practically bending over at the waist from the force of her giggles. Eddie stopped in his tracks, confusion splattered across his face. When she came back up, rubbing at her mouth and desperately trying to stop herself from completely collapsing, he could see tears in her eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked out of genuine concern.

“You both are complete idiots,” Nancy said, having pulled herself together. Her face was stern again, as it tended to be. “He wasn’t making fun of you. He was flirting with you.” Eddie’s jaw made a thudding noise when it felt to the ground. Nancy looked severely unimpressed.

“Are you kidding?” Eddie asked, holding up a hand in front of him protectively.

“Why on earth would I be?” Nancy retorted. He had no proper answer. “Steve’s an idiot. He doesn’t know how to flirt like an actual human being and not like an ape, so he did what he knew best.” Eddie paused, rethinking that conversation from the day before.

Steve’s pearly-white grin. His sudden interest in a game he’d been teasing Dustin about for years. His overennuciation and enthusiasm for the conversation. It hit like a freight train.

Eddie crashed onto the bed, nearly knocking Nancy over from the force of his tumble. He fell back onto the mattress, staring up at the popcorn ceiling and letting his brain spin around like a record.

“And you’re not kidding?” Eddie asked again, just to make sure.

“Ask him yourself,” Nancy offered. He looked up, chin to chest, to see her wiggling her car keys out to her side like a red cape to a bull. She knew him too well.

The off-pitch bell attached to the front door of the Family Video jingled but Steve didn’t look up from where he’d slumped himself halfway over the counter. Robin was staring, open-mouthed, at whatever morning movie she’d put on the boxset - completely out of it. It was hard to blame her - who was coming in to rent a movie at two on a Wednesday?

“Shit, Steve,” Robin gasped, finally having glanced up. She slapped at his back once, twice for good measure. He stood up and glared at her, rubbing at his sweater.

“Welcome to Family Video, how-” He cut himself off, utterly stunned to see Eddie meeting his eye. Slightly less surprised to see Nancy behind him, watching the interaction with bated breath. “Uh, hey. Ed. Hey.”

“Hi,” Eddie said, and this was the most awkward conversation Steve’d ever had. “Um. Can we talk?”

“Away from this crowd? Good idea,” Steve joked, gesturing to the empty store. Eddie’s lips twitched before he was walking to the opposite end of the counter, back towards the door to the Employee’s Only room. Steve followed dutifully because he was learning he’d follow Eddie anywhere. Though the girls were silent, he knew they were communicating telepathically behind them.

“Look, uh,” Eddie began, a nervous twinge to his voice. He picked at his pointer fingernail absently. “Nancy told me something this morning that, um. Maybe makes me feel a little bad for the way I acted yesterday.”

“No, wait-” Steve held out a hand. Clearly the sharp movement took Eddie by surprise, because he was looking up from his nail and back into Steve’s eyes and - wow. Steve nearly forgot what he was going to say. “I should be the one apologizing. I made you really, really upset, Ed. I’m sorry.”

“You-” Eddie snorted, shaking his head. “God. You’re so perfect it makes me sick.”

“Sorry?” Steve said. He knew he had to be blushing like a fool.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Eddie finished his previous sentence. “I misread the conversation.”

“Yeah, but clearly I also did something,” Steve protested. “Just because I don’t know what I did doesn’t mean I didn’t do something wrong. So: I’m sorry.”

“You’re both sorry, get on with it!” Robin called out from behind them. At Steve’s bristled glare, she deflated a little and sent him an encouraging thumbs-up.

“Sorry about the peanut gallery,” Steve muttered as he returned to Eddie.

“Nancy told me that you weren’t making fun of me,” Eddie restarted his previous speech, but Steve held up another hand to stop him.

“You thought I was making fun of you?” Steve repeated. His big puppy-dog eyes looked so utterly pitiful and sad. “Jesus, Eddie, I - no wonder you reacted the way you did.”

“Your old pal Tommy H pulled the same trick on me in middle school,” Eddie explained hesitantly. “It’s, like, the oldest trick in the Book of Asshole. You pretend to be interested to earn their trust or make fun of them behind their back.”

“Ed, I’d never do that to you,” Steve promised. His face was open and genuine. “I swear. I’d never dream of it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m getting that now,” Eddie agreed under his breath, an embarrassed blush spreading across his face and down his neck. “But I didn’t yesterday. Now I get what you were trying to do.” Steve’s mouth dropped open a little. It was his turn to blush, bright and red and mortified.

“Um. What I was trying to do?” Steve squeaked. Eddie’s lips quirked up just slightly. He supposed that was the proof he needed.

“That you were trying to flirt with me,” Eddie explained, as if it were obvious. Steve blinked his wide, gaping eyes. He swallowed tightly.

“Right,” Steve agreed. “Um. And you’re cool with that?” Eddie snorted again and wiped a hand down his face, unable to fully tamper down his grin.

“Steve Harrington, you are complete and utter doofus,” Eddie informed him. “And you are incapable of reading social cues, apparently.” Steve squinted his eyes playfully.

“I’m sensing a but in there,” He said gleefully. He couldn’t stop the corresponding butterflies at seeing Eddie’s full grin, all crooked teeth and perfect lips. “I’m hoping there’s a but in there.”

“Mine or yours?” Eddie asked. Steve watched as his eyes dropped to Steve’s lips. “You’re lucky my type is absolute dumbasses.”

“I am very lucky,” Steve agreed. He threw one last passive glance around the store but his hand was already reaching out to yank on Eddie’s shirt collar and pull him in. Their lips collided and it tasted like salt. Like harsh cologne. Eddie’s arms wound their way around Steve’s neck fast, fingers pulling apart his styled hair.

“Stop making out on the clock,” Robin shouted from her snooping place on the opposite end of the counter. Steve felt something harsh hit the side of his head. He grimaced and pulled reluctantly away from a pinked Eddie, who was grinning like a fool.

“Did you throw a VHS at me?” Steve asked, glancing down at the floor to check the offending title - This is Spinal Tap. “See if I ever do anything for you again.”

“You could’ve given him another concussion,” Eddie added. “His punch card’s nearly full at this point, you don’t wanna give him another one.”

“Why did we work so hard to get you two together, again?” Nancy asked from her place beside Robin, leaning on her fist and smirking obnoxiously. She and Robin high-fived. Steve shook his head and rolled his eyes, returning his gaze to Eddie.

“So, you uh. You looking to check out anything?” Steve asked. Eddie’s gaze raked along his body as if Steve was some Michangelo statue. He bit his lip, but the bright smile broke through anyway

“Yeah, I am,” Eddie admitted, pleased to see Steve’s bashful reaction. “But, real talk: Are you seriously interested in learning about Dungeons & Dragons?”

“I like the funky little drawings,” Steve admitted. But it was mainly just to see Eddie’s grin again. And, as Eddie pulled out his books and papers and all that shit, so that he could practice his flirting skills a little more. Clearly they needed a little work.

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eiddets · 10 months

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steve and eddie dated for three years after the fall of vecna.

three years, they loved each other.

for three years, they gave it their all, until they couldn’t.

—

twelve years later, steve’s married. has a family and kids. and eddie? touring the united states, with his band the wrath of inferno.

they meet by chance, in a bar in indianapolis.

steve has glasses now, has to clean them to make sure he isn’t seeing things. like the man that got away isn’t sitting a mere few inches away from him.

eddie’s got salt and pepper hair, a silver band on his ring finger, and an arm around another guy.

steve swallows thickly, brings the liquid courage to his mouth, and takes a few gulps.

“eddie?”

“….steve?”

#eiddetssfw #steddiefic #steddie fic prompt #steddie fandom #steddie #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #steve harrington/eddiemunson #steve harrington/eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things au #exes to lovers #exes to lovers au #steddie ao3 #steve x eddie fic #steve x eddie

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eddie4bat-president · 1 month

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Had the sudden mental image of season 2 Steve (with the yellow gloves and the sunglasses and the nail bat sticking out of his backpack) at the junkyard ready to kick some demodog butt - and out of frame, ducked behind a car is Eddie Munson who was there to... idk, look for spare parts or let off some steam by throwing rocks through car windows or whatever. "Holy shit, what the fuck, was that Steve Harrington???? Is Steve Harrington a serial killer??? Wait, were those kids?! Is Steve Harrington gonna murder some middle schoolers??? Wait no they're talking about demogorgons. IS STEVE HARRINGTON LARPING WITH CHILDREN????" That is somehow even less believable than the serial killer thing. Anyway either he sneaks off, still believing Steve Harrington is a closet nerd or a horde of monsters comes stampeding while he lurks and he's like "Ah, that makes more sense. I guESS."

#season 2 steddie #steddie season 2 au #steddie #steddie fic prompt #hey i'm talkin' here

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stupid4steddie · 8 months

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okay so with reeding and leeds festival this weekend .. i’m having silly little meetcute festival thoughts !!

the party dragging steve and robin to some massive music festival in the city.

steve has no idea who’s playing, robin has a clue but she’s still a bit lost. they let the party lead them around, running to each stall until it becomes time for them to start heading to the stage.

dustin explained that the main act is on later today but there’s a few other artists they’re interested in before that.

the pit fills up quickly, slowly pushing steve closer and closer to the front. it’s starting to get hard to breathe, as the crowd pushes forward and tighter together.

he looks up and makes eye contact with robin, she’s got this right? he can’t stay in here for much longer. she flashes him a smile and a thumbs up, reading his mind almost. he smiles.

he quickly turns and starts walking towards a small gap towards his left, shoving through the crowd and muttering sorry after sorry.

until he reaches a gate, guarded by a volunteer. he reaches for it but gets immediately stopped.

“huh?”

“VIP area only. you’re not a VIP.”

steve just stands there, shocked. he’s on the verge of hyperventilating and this is their concern.

“dude, i just need to get out of the pit. i can barely fucking breathe. i’ll leave the area as soon as i can, just let me get out.”

but the volunteer firmly shakes his head.

“are you fucking kidding me? please?”

and just as steve is about to continue his begging, he’s cut off by another voice.

“baby!! there you are, i knew you forgot your lanyard in the tent. just come through, ignore him.”

steve looks up to see a man standing there. long, wild hair. unruly bangs. way too much jewellery for one person but the grin on his face was wide as his eyes shined.

the volunteer stared between them for a second before steve made his next move.

“thank you babe. he didn’t believe me. can you talk to someone about that?”

the man laughed, a raspy chuckle that sent chills up and down steve’s arms as he unlocked the gate.

“yeah sweets, i’ll talk to someone about that.”

steve smiled, approaching him and letting the man swing an arm around his shoulders and lead him away.

“thank you for that,” he says under his breath, “that pit is terrifying.”

the man just laughs, “trust me. i know. you good though? feeling better?”

steve nods before starting to pull away from him but he’s held tightly.

“nuh uh uh, you owe me pretty boy. stay and watch the show from backstage. my manager will keep you safe.”

pretty boy. steve feels like he’s going to lose his breath again as he just nods.

“perfect,” the man grins as they stop just beside the large stage, “munson. eddie.”

steve just tilts his head in response.

“eddie munson. that’s my name,” eddie smiles before picking up a guitar and slinging it across his body, “yours is?”

“uh. steve! steve harrington.”

“well, steve harrington, enjoy the show.”

#steddie #eddie munson #steddie au #steddie fic #steddie fic idea #steddie fic prompt #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #strangerthings #stranger things season four #steve and eddie #eddiesteve #steve x eddie #famous eddie munson #steve has no idea who eddie is

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winterbuckwild · 10 months

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A fic prompt for someone with more brain power than I possess at the moment:

Steve loves giving head. It's one of his favourite things to do with any partner but especially someone as reactive and sensitive as Eddie.

Unfortunately ever since Eddie left to go on tour, promises of endless phone calls (of which there are many) and postcards (from every time they stop) Steve has been clenching his jaw to the point of agony every day, his anxiety and stress off the charts.

He chipped a tooth clenching in his sleep and the dentist gave him a dumb mouth guard and a promise to try and reduce his stress (Steve's eyes nearly rolled back in his head with the effort not to sass that one).

Even when Eddie got back he was still clenching, wound up tight as a spring, teeth creaking and jaw aching with the pressure.

With tours and gigs, headaches and migraines it was months before he found out the worst symptom of them all: he couldn't give head anymore.

His jaw hurt too much, he couldn't open his mouth wide enough without an agonising crack that freaked them both out.

And with that discovery, Eddie made it his personal mission to "reduce Steve's stress" to the point where Steve wants to smack him more than suck him.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #fic prompt #steddie fic prompt #someone write this please please

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ikarakie · 1 year

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after eddie introduces a demogorgon to one of his hellfire campaigns, the kids get a little squirmy. they're nervously looking at each other and aren't engaging as excitedly as they usually do. when he calls time, he watches dustin rummage through his backpack and produce a walkie talkie.

he watches, a bit dumbfounded, as the kid demands a 'check-in'. all at once, multiple different voices come over the channel. stating a name and then saying 'safe.' ("nancy, safe." "robin, safe." "max, safe.")

"steve?" dustin demands. there's only static. "steve!" a little more frantic this time.

"he left to pick you up." a female voice replies, "he's probably fine. you'll see him soon."

none of the kids look particularly pleased, and pack up hastily. eddie and the other hellfire members all share confused glances. he, more morbidly curious than anything else, follows the little sheep as they hurry out of the school.

dustin is fucking restless as they all stand in the empty parking lot. he won't stay still and none of them are answering any of eddie's questions. and he only gets more confused when a brown beemer pulls in, windows down and playing depeche mode through the speakers. dustin goes to sprint towards it, and he has to hold him by the collar to stop him getting run over.

the beemer pulls up and steve harrington, in all his glory, steps out, frowning. dustin wrenches out of eddie's grip and all but bodies the guy, wrapping arms tightly around his midsection. steve, still looking puzzled, hugs back. lucas and mike trail after dustin.

"we called a check-in." dustin says, a bit muffled from where his face is smushed into steve's shirt. steve goes sort of pale, and- and presses a goddamn kiss to the top of henderson's head before tightening the hug.

"shit, i'm sorry." and eddie believes him. he sounds so guilty. "i meant to replace the batteries before i left. sorry, i'm okay." dustin pulls back and scrubs at his eyes. lucas takes his place, though the hug he gives is more like one of those bro-hugs jocks seem to love. steve smiles regardless. he just ruffles mike's hair, who pouts in response but looks relieved nonetheless.

"asshole." he mutters. "rule four, walkies on at all times." steve nods as the kid half-heartedly waves goodbye to eddie and hops in the backseat of the beemer. lucas follows. dustin seems reluctant to walk around the car, to take his eyes off steve for even a second.

"you wanna stay over tonight?" steve asks, warm and gentle. he folds his arms and in that moment eddie thinks they look sort of like brothers. "robin and me were gonna watch some films. we can call your mom from mine."

the kid nods, looking a bit happier. steve slaps him on the back and motions him to get in the car. dustin swivels to hug and say goodbye to eddie (who sort of forgot he was physically present in this moment) before doing as he was told.

steve turns to eddie. which- whew! hi pretty eyes.

"sorry." he smiles and eddie can't for the life of him figure out what he's apologising for. "they, uh- yeah. them." he gestures vaguely at the car and eddie just chuckles.

"hey, man, no worries." he says, a little breathless that he's having a conversation with the steve harrington. "they okay? never seen henderson look so rattled." steve nods, then seems to think better of it and just shrugs. cocks his hip to the side (stop fucking staring at his hips, munson, lord!)

"they will be." he glances back at the beemer, which is now full of childish bickering. pauses to think and then asks, "you using demogorgons in your campaign right now?"

eddie blinks at him. "yes? yeah. what the fuck- how do you know what that is? what-" steve just laughs.

"long story." there's a haunted look in his eyes before he continues, "just, uh- that's probably what upset them. demogorgons and us- them, i mean-" he waves his hand. "bad memories. hard to explain, but... if you could..." he doesn't need to ask, seems like he doesn't know how or even if he's allowed.

"got it, ill tweak the campaign." harrington smiles at him, something small and genuine, and murmurs a thanks. offers him a fucking lift, which eddie declines, motioning to his van. harrington just nods, tells him to get home safe and then clambers back into the car, yells at the kids to put seatbelts on with all the exasperation of a single dad, and pulls away.

eddie watches them go, having seen a side of harrington he'd thought dustin had been lying about. steve harrington, the caring babysitter, everyone's older brother, a changed man.

he starts escorting the kids to the parking lot more often.

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bigskyandthecoldgun · 8 months

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based off this post i made a couple days ago lmao

words: 2.1k

Generally speaking, Steve Harrington is a pretty good boyfriend.

He takes Eddie out, never lets him pay for stuff if he can help it—hell, he’s even bought Eddie flowers before. And Eddie’s not complaining, because it’s hard enough to find another queer man in Hawkins, let alone one willing to date him. So Steve is his first boyfriend, and Eddie hasn’t had much (read: any) experience with dating.

But he’s pretty damn sure by the time they hit the three-month mark that Steve’s staunch refusal to hold his hand is unusual.

It’s not like Steve isn’t affectionate. More often than not, Steve’s arm will be around his shoulders or his waist, and there are no shortages of kisses anywhere and everywhere. But Steve won’t hold his hand. And he hasn’t let Eddie give him a handjob. Which—the latter isn’t as much of an issue, because maybe Steve’s just not a fan of handjobs, and that’s fine, Eddie’s not an asshole, Steve’s more than entitled to say no to stuff like that.

Though, Steve’s got no problem putting his hands to work, so what is it about the idea of holding hands or Eddie touching him in the same way that makes Steve so weirdly uncomfortable?

Eddie’s first thought had been that Steve might just not like holding hands. That the clamminess of another palm in his gives him the same kind of sensory ick that Eddie gets from getting adhesive residue on his hands. But Steve holds hands with Robin all the time with no problem, so it can’t be that.

His second thought is that Steve might be so used to being the ‘man in the relationship,’ so to speak, that he doesn’t think Eddie would want to be as handsy. But, again—doesn’t explain the hand holding thing. Because Steve had definitely held hands with girls he’d dated in the past, if Eddie’s high school memories aren’t failing him.

So what the hell is it?

What’s so unthinkable about being touched by Eddie?

And Eddie tries not to read too much into it, because he’s more than aware that both he and Steve have some internalized stuff about being queer, and maybe Steve’s just working through that. He tries not to read too much into it because Steve is a good boyfriend, save for this one weird thing, and maybe they’ll get to a point where Steve will tell him why he doesn’t want to hold hands or have Eddie’s hands on his bare skin for more than a minute or two.

They’re making out on Steve’s couch one night, Eddie’s hands on Steve’s waist and Steve’s hands already halfway through undoing the button on Eddie’s jeans. Eddie starts to tug at Steve’s shirt to get it untucked from his jeans. “C’mere, wait, lemme touch you,” Eddie breathes, and Steve grins against his mouth before backing away. Eddie blinks, utterly confused. “What? What is it?”

Steve just laughs, shakes his head, and dives back in for another kiss. “You’re funny,” he murmurs against Eddie’s lips, and Eddie feels a weird tug in his gut, because something’s wrong, and Steve’s acting weird again about Eddie touching him.

He thinks it’s funny.

Thinks it’s funny that Eddie wants to touch him.

Well, firstly, ouch. Secondly, that’s a real jerk move, but he’s torn between telling Steve off and getting off. He ends up going with the better option, because Steve might be acting like a jerk, but he’s a jerk that’s jerking Eddie off, so…better than nothing, Eddie supposes.

He doesn’t bring it up again for another three months, resigning himself to have his hands redirected from Steve’s bare skin and remaining steadfastly un-handheld. And, sure, y’know, he might be able to attribute it to the fact that they spend a lot of time with people who don’t know they’re together yet, but that possibility is quickly eradicated when Steve suggests that they tell the rest of the Party about them.

“You sure you wanna do that?” Eddie asks, brows raised skeptically, because for a guy who won’t hold Eddie’s hand, Steve’s pretty gung-ho about airing their business to the rest of the group.

Steve just tilts his head, a cute little look of confusion on his face. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, like the idea of him not wanting people to know about him and Eddie is crazy. Steve blinks, the confusion turning to concern. “I mean, unless you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you—”

“You can tell them,” Eddie cuts in, fidgeting with his rings. “I’m—yeah. Yeah, you can tell them.”

Maybe this will finally give Steve the push he needs to get over himself and hold Eddie’s goddamn hand before Eddie goes crazy and gets shipped off to Pennhurst.

Or…maybe not.

Because Steve still won’t hold his hand. Or let Eddie touch him.

The one time Eddie had managed to get his hands on Steve’s bare skin, he’d spotted Steve itching at the spots Eddie had touched in the bathroom later that night, the door only open a crack. Which is pretty dramatic, even for Eddie’s taste. Is the feeling of Eddie’s hands on him really so awful? Christ, Eddie’s getting sick and tired of this shit.

Eventually, nine months into their relationship, Steve blatantly moves a hand away from Eddie’s during a movie night when Eddie tries to take hold of it. In front of their friends. Eddie sucks up his wounded pride and corners Nancy in the kitchen later, after the first movie is over and they’ve been sent to get snacks while Steve and Robin argue over what movie to play next, wondering if he should even be asking her.

“Something on your mind?” she asks, because he hasn’t come up with anything to start with yet, and Eddie sighs.

“Is—okay, did Steve ever—when you guys were dating, did he ever, like, not hold your hand?” he asks, and Nancy tilts her head.

“I mean, sometimes…? It was only because I was wearing rings, though,” she says, like that makes perfect sense, like Steve just has some ring-phobia or something, and Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. Nancy gives him a little smile. “You wear yours all the time, so I don’t know why you’re so surprised.”

Okay, so, weird ring-phobia it is.

That’s the new working theory, and when he and Steve bunk in Steve’s room for the night, Eddie makes a show of carefully pulling his rings off and setting them on the bedside table. There’s a couple of green marks on his fingers where the clear nail polish he’d coated the interiors in has chipped away, and he rubs at his bare fingers absentmindedly as he climbs under the covers. He takes a deep breath and laces his fingers with Steve’s, ready to have Steve pull his hand away for the umpteenth time.

Instead, he’s met with a surprised, pleased little hum. “You took your rings off,” Steve notes, relief clear in his voice, and Eddie nods, trying not to let the feeling of triumph show on his face too much. Steve grins at him and presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “That’s a nice surprise.”

“What, you don’t like my rings?” Eddie teases, keeping the genuine curiosity in his voice to a minimum, and Steve’s brows furrow.

“What? No, no, I love your rings, Eds,” Steve tells him. He lowers his voice. “I think they’re pretty hot, actually.”

Okay. Okay, so a wrench has been thrown into the ring-phobia theory.

“What, are they too cheap for his majesty’s royal fingers?” Eddie jokes, putting on a goofy, poorly-done British accent, and Steve’s nose wrinkles slightly.

“I mean, they are costume jewelry,” Steve says. “Nickel-plated, right?”

Ah.

So…it’s that Eddie looks, or even feels, too cheap.

Jesus. He hadn’t thought Steve would be that shallow.

Eddie swallows. “Uh, yeah, they—they are. I can stop wearing them, if you…” he trails off, not really sure what to do with this new information. Cheap to the touch, apparently enough to make Steve wrinkle his nose at the thought of Eddie touching him with his rings on.

“What? No, no, you don’t have to. I’m good, I can deal with it,” Steve says, like it’s supposed to be reassuring, like it’s such a big sacrifice for him to deal with how inexpensive Eddie’s taste in jewelry is, like their relationship isn’t serious enough for Steve to get over himself.

It’s just his rich boy upbringing, Eddie reminds himself. Even Wheeler’s upper-middle-class jewelry wasn’t enough to beat that expensive taste.

Evidently, the conversation had stuck in his boyfriend’s brain, because on the morning of their first anniversary, Eddie is given a long, velvety black box with four Sterling silver rings. They’re exact replicas, design-wise, of their nickel-plated counterparts, and Steve looks so proud of himself, so pleased with his gift idea, and Eddie barely stops himself from frowning.

“Oh,” Eddie says, a little hollow, “um, thank you.”

“You like ’em?” Steve asks, and there’s such a hopeful look on his face that it just pisses Eddie off more. “I just figure—y’know, because, I mean, I can’t hold your hand if you’re wearing costume jewelry, so—”

“Yeah, no, I, uh—I got that,” Eddie says with a strained smile. “Thanks, Steve.”

Steve’s brows furrow. “I feel like you’re mad at me,” he says, and he says it with humor, but there’s genuine worry behind it. “Did I screw up your present that bad? Were you dropping hints and hoping for something else?”

Eddie’s jaw clenches. “It’s…the present is fine, Steve,” he says.

“You don’t like them,” Steve mumbles, gnawing on his bottom lip. “I mean, it might take me a lot longer to save up, but is—would you, like, prefer titanium or steel or something? I didn’t really think you were a gold kind of guy, but it’s fine if you are, I just didn’t know—”

“Why do I have to prefer anything?” Eddie snaps. Steve blinks at him. The look of pure confusion on his face is a little infuriating, like he can’t even fathom why Eddie might be upset, and Eddie’s eye twitches. “Look, just because you’re all high and mighty about what jewelry is worthy of being seen near you—”

“Woah, woah, what are you talking about?” Steve asks, alarmed.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Eddie slams the box down on the coffee table and stands up to stomp around the living room, pacing back and forth. “You won’t let me hold your hand o-or even touch you, like you’re so above cheap shit that you can’t bear to let it touch you, and I’m so sorry that I’ve offended the sensibilities of his highness with my ‘costume jewelry,’ but Jesus, Steve, you can’t even get over yourself on our anniversary? I’ve seen you act like me touching you with my rings on gives you hives or some shit, like it’s just so terrible that it makes your skin crawl—”

“It does,” Steve says, a little subdued, eyes wide with shock, lips parted, “I’m allergic to nickel.”

Eddie pauses mid-stomp.

“You’re what?” he squeaks.

Steve blinks, and a long silence stretches between them. “I’m allergic to nickel, Eds, everybody knows I am,” he says. “I can’t hold your hand if you’re wearing nickel-plated stuff, but you really like your rings, they’re important to your look, so I wasn’t gonna be a dick and tell you to take them off just so I could.”

Recontextualizing every interaction of his year-long relationship he’d tried not to read too hard into is…a lot to experience in a little under thirty seconds.

“Oh, dear God, I’ve been an asshole,” Eddie mutters. “I thought you wouldn’t let me touch you because—but it was just—”

“Yeah, an itchy dick is not a good feeling,” Steve says, a nervous little laugh bubbling out of him. His face falls a little. “I—did you think—?”

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie blurts, horrified. “I am so sorry, Steve, oh my God—”

“No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t—I must’ve seemed like a total jerk, Eddie, I should’ve told you outright, but I guess I figured you already knew,” Steve says, shrugging helplessly. “But, no, it’s nothing like what you said, I promise, I’m just—I’m allergic.”

Eddie immediately yanks the rings from his fingers and fumbles to get the box open, swapping them out for the silver ones, which he jams onto his fingers as fast as humanly possible. “If I got my head out of my ass sooner, I swear I would’ve found replacements the second I knew,” he says, and Steve laughs.

“I know you would’ve,” he says, all fond and soft, “you’re good like that.”

“Let me make it up to you? I can touch you all I want now,” Eddie says, waggling his silver-covered fingers in front of Steve’s face.

Steve interlocks their hands and leans in to kiss him, slow and sweet. “Looking forward to it, Eds.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #my fic #also my prompt #i guess it's a prompt?#it was more like. a passing idea #but still

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strangersteddierthings · 11 months

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What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

Prompt from @devious-kitten

Steve had a mild interest in DnD as a freshmen because of a cousin or something. The interest was killed by Eddie being mean since Steve is a jock. Post vecna Eddie finds dust covered DnD handbook Steve explains and Eddie faces a still hurt Steve as a results of his biases

((Half written fic, half rambling about how it would go down. Apologies for the formatting. Also I added more angst than the prompt called for hehe))

Steve has always loved sports. This is a well-known fact. He's played on some sort of sports team from the time he was old enough for his parents to be able to sign him up.

A lesser-known fact is that Steve loves fantasy. Or, at least, he used to. On the playground in elementary school, Steve could often be found playing knights and dragons, and it was anyone's guess if he would be a knight or a dragon on any particular day.

The summer between middle and high school, Steve spent with his grandparents from his mother's side, on the farm they'd retired on in Michigan. A month long stay that he'd shared with his cousins, Amber, Robert, and Christopher. Amber and Robert are twins, four years younger than Steve, and Christopher was two years older and infinitely cooler than anyone else Steve knew.

Christopher was on the varsity basketball team at his high school when he was just a sophomore, captain of the JV football team, president of the chess club, and in a games club.

Christopher was everything Steve wanted to be now that he was going to be in high school. Minus the chess club because

It was during that summer, Steve got to indulge in playing make believe for another summer with his younger cousins, without the judgement of people (his father and peers) who thought he was too old for such things. He also got to learn about make believe for older kids, because Christopher played a game called Dungeons and Dragons with his game club the last month of school before summer break and spent many evenings going over what had happened with Steve as a captive audience.

"I wish I'd brought the books," Christopher had whispered to him one night from the bed, peaking over to look down at Steve in his sleeping bag on the floor, "we could have played."

Steve wishes he'd brought the books, too.

At the end of July, Christopher, Amber, and Robert's parents show up to pick them up, five days before Steve's scheduled flight to Indianapolis. It's a sad goodbye because one summer a year isn't enough with his cousins but they live in Washington. Steve's always jealous their parents drive all the way to pick them up, but a little proud he gets to brag about how he's flown alone since he was seven. No one else in his class can brag about that.

His mom picks him up in Indianapolis and they go back to school shopping while there.

A week later, Steve receives a package from Christopher. Inside Steve finds Advanced Dungeons and Dragons books, three of them, and even though Christopher said nothing about advanced, he's sure he can manage. On the inside cover of the players handbook, Christopher has written:

Hey Steve, I think you'd rock playing a dwarf paladin. Let's play next summer? Christopher 1981

He spends the last three weeks of summer vacation reading the player handbook cover to cover and making a character. It's slow going, because letters don't stay where they're supposed to be on the page (that's a problem he's had his whole life, so he's not surprised but he is determined), and he's never been good at math, so getting the stats down on paper isn't easy. He can't decide what he wants to play, so he makes two characters; an elf magic-user and, of course, a dwarf paladin.

(He's a little disappointed you can't be a dragon.)

Steve's never been one to dread the first day of school, but he's never actually looked forward to it, either. It's just been another day.

Until today.

Today is his first day as a high schooler. And the only people who go to the first day are Freshman, except the upper classman that have volunteered to man the booths for school activities for the last hour of the day. It's supposed to help the Freshman get the lay of the land without being overwhelming and Steve's excited for it. He needs to see if Hawkins High has a games club like Christopher's school does.

Here Steve is, that last hour of school. He's already been to the basketball booth, promising to sign up as soon as the season started, and the swim booth because he's got a pool at his house and has been swimming for as long as he can remember and knows he enjoys it. He also stops by the football booth even though he's never played, or cared much, for it. (Maybe he's trying to emulate Christopher, sue him.). So, the final thing is to see if Hawkins High offers a chess club and a game club.

Steve is delighted to see that, though there is no games club, there is a Dungeons and Dragons club! That delight wavers because of the kid manning the booth. His hair is curly and falls just below his ears, with big brown eyes. Steve hates to think it, but he'd be cute if he didn't look like he wanted to stab Steve.

"Yeah, no, keep walking," says the boy, pulling the flier with meeting information on it out from under Steve's hand, where he'd been attempting to read it.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed in confusion. "I was reading that."

"And I said no. Jocks don't play Dungeons and Dragons."

"I could," Steve says, offended. He squints at the name tag sticker slapped diagonally across the way too big jean vest this guy's wearing. E-d-d-i-e. Eddie.

"Have you ever played?"

"Well... no, but-"

"No buts. Mitch let a jock join last year and that was a nightmare. He could barely read the rule book. And with how you were squinting down at the flier, and then my name tag, you're not going to be much better."

Jokes on Eddie, Steve's already read the rule book. Even if it was slowly. "I can read just fine."

"Can you math, then? What's eight plus seven?"

"What?"

"Simple addition. Eight plus seven. What is it?"

Steve knows simple addition. This is fine. It doesn't matter than he's been put on the spot, and that math is hard for the same reason as reading. He can do this. His hand twitches with wanting to pull it up and use it to keep track. He's faster at math when he can do that, but this jerk is mean mugging him and he just knows if he moves his hand, this guy will mock him the rest of the school year.

Eight plus seven. Ok. Make it easier, get to ten. It takes adding two to the eight to get ten. Ok. Take that two away from the seven now. That makes... five! Ok. Ten plus five is-

"Dude, it's fifteen," Eddie snaps.

"I knew that!"

Scoff. "Right. How about seventeen plus six."

Steve can feel his face turning red with embarrassment but he's not going to let this jackass be right. Round up. It takes three to get seventeen to twenty, so take three away from the six-

"23. Point proven. Go. Away. Go play your jock games and leave me- us alone."

Steve opens his mouth to argue, or maybe plead, that he can do this, and that, more importantly, he wants to do this, but laughter cuts through the air and for the first time, Steve notices the audience that has gathered. Three people are laughing at him, and his inability to do mental math, and it makes Steve snap his jaw shut and swallow.

"Mental math isn't that hard, Steve," one of them, Brant, says, as he elbows the guy next to him.

"Thank you!" Eddie says, "that's what I'm saying."

"Whatever, man, like I'd want to play make believe at this age anyway," Steve mutters and rushes away.

If, two weeks later, Steve watches Kyle trip who he now knows is Eddie 'The Freak' Munson in the bathroom, and drag him into a stall for a swirly, well, no he didn't. He briefly thinks of saying something to stop Kyle, but shoves the words down and instead turns on heel and leaves that bathroom just as the sound of flushing and Eddie yelling start. The thick bathroom door does a good job of muffling the noise and if Steve feels any guilt about that, he shoves that down, too.

Besides, Kyle's the captain of the basketball team and if Steve wants a chance to be on that team, he can't stay anything. It's a well-known fact that Steve likes sports, after all. He's going to stick to that. Screw Eddie Munson and his Dungeons and Dragons club.

Steve will get to play Dungeons and Dragons with Christopher next summer.

Except, halfway through the school year, Steve and his parents quickly board a plane bound for Washington. Turns out being as perfect as Christopher was is hard. Overwhelming.

They arrive the day before the funeral, and fly out right after it. Steve barely has time to mourn before they're shuffling him back to school that Monday.

Christopher died, and with him, so does Steve's desire to be just like him. He quits the football team. He keeps basketball because he does like it, even without Christopher's influence. He can't bring himself to get rid of the Dungeons and Dragons books, but he can't look at them, either. They end up in the downstairs hall closet, forgotten on the shelf.

So, years later, after rising to the top of the food chain (no one was ever going to embarrass him like Eddie Munson had again) and then falling to the bottom (who cares about high school popularity when interdimensional monsters exist) and of course, the years of fighting against said interdimensional monsters before ending it all in spring of '86, Steve finds himself, unwillingly, agreeing to host Hellfire since the school banned the club following the events of spring break.

Damn Dustin Henderson. Steve usually has the backbone to say no but Dustin had to play up 'getting a chance to finally just be kids' and fuck, how was Steve going to say no to that? Despite how quickly his own desire to be a freshman playing Dungeons and Dragon had been squashed, he can't be the one to ruin this for them.

"Thanks for hosting, man," Eddie says when Steve lets him in. He's an hour early but had asked if that was okay. Apparently the dungeon master has a lot of prep to do? Not that Steve would know.

"Sure," Steve says, dismissively, because while Eddie and he went through hell together, and Steve carried his sorry ass out of the Upside Down, Steve can't quite let his guard down around him.

It's funny. In the Upside Down, Eddie had made a point to tell him he's changed, is a 'good dude' now. So, what's funny is how much Eddie is exactly the same person he was five years ago. He was an ass to Steve five years ago, and as far as Steve is concerned, was also an ass to Lucas for wanting to play basketball just this year.

He swears to God, if he hears one negative thing about Lucas tonight, he's punching Eddie unconscious, no matter what the rest of Hellfire will do or say about it.

Eddie's been in his dining room for maybe five minutes before he finds Steve in the living room. Steve's got a movie playing but he couldn't tell you which one. He's not really watching it.

"Do you got a table cloth for that big table? Jeff's got a set of metal dice and I'd feel like a real ass if we scratched it on accident."

Steve takes a deep breath before answering. He hates that Eddie is considerate like this, has been since spring break if Steve's being honest, but he doesn't want to see Eddie's good qualities. So, he waves in the direction of the closet. "Yeah. There should be some in the hall closet there. Help yourself."

"Thanks."

He twists on the couch to watch Eddie cross the room to the closet door, listens as the door creaks opens, hears the quiet, pleased noise Eddie lets out when his eyes land on the stack of table clothes. Steve continues to watch as Eddie just grabs the whole stack and yanks them off the top shelf.

Which means his watching as the stack of non-fabric objects, which must have been half atop the table clothes, also tumble out of the closet, bouncing off various parts of Eddie. It's a bunch of miscellaneous items. However, Steve realizes with horror, the book that bounces off Eddie's head is his copy of the Monster Manual. Eddie has stepped back in surprise (and possibly pain), so the Dungeon Master Guide and the Players Handbook bounce off his torso and leg before landing on the ground.

"Fuck," Eddie curses, before he stares down at what just assaulted him. Steve just stares at Eddie, watching as he slowly comes to comprehend what he's seeing. He watches as Eddie bends down and grabs the Player Handbook, the last thing to fall, from a top the pile. "What the-"

Steve stands, suddenly defensive, but doesn't actually say anything or move closer. He just watches as Eddie examines the book, flipping it from front to back in his hand like the title will change if he does that enough times.

Then, Eddie turns to him, bewildered. "Present for one of the kids? Thought they all had their own copies."

"No."

Eddie flips the book open. Reads the words written in there so many years ago. "Who's Christopher? Wait. 1981? You were playing D&D in 1981?"

"None of your business, and no," Steve says, now kicking into action, stomping up to Eddie and snatching the book from his hands.

Eddie hold his hands up in defense before his eyes turn mischievous. The same glint in them now that was there when Eddie'd leaned into this space in the RV and called him big boy. "Are you lying to me, Stevie? You've played before, haven't you?"

It makes Steve's blood boil. "No. I haven't played!"

"Alright. You could now, you know," Eddie says. And it's the way he says it, all nonchalant and like he's trying to be coy about it- it tips something over inside Steve. A bottle that held his humiliation and hurt from all those years ago.

"Oh, now I'm good enough for D&D? Now I can join? Aren't I too much of a jock for you!?"

"Whoa, what's with the hostility-"

"What's eight plus seven, Eddie!?" Steve snaps. His memory might be shit these days, with all the concussions, but the unfortunate part about Steve is that he always seems to remember the bad. And he remembers Freshman First Day like yesterday. "No? How about seventeen plus six? Come on, mental math isn't hard. Or don't you remember? I'm just a stupid jock too slow on the uptake, or no, what was it you said? It'll be a nightmare to play with me, 'cause I might be barely able to read the rules?"

He watches as Eddie's face morphs from confusion, to understanding and horror. "Holy shit, Steve. That was you- you wanted to join Hellfire-"

"Yeah, and you made it pretty fuckin' clear I didn't belong in it."

"I'm sorry man. I shouldn't have- if I'd known you, I never would have-"

"That's the problem, Eddie!" Steve shouts, waving the book in front of him. "You didn't know me. You looked at me and decided for me that I was going to be a jock and nothing else and then humiliated me in front of other people! You didn't even bother to try to know me. I spent three weeks reading this stupid book cover to cover because I knew I was shit at reading and I still wanted to try anyway."

He sees Eddie puffing up in anger. "Well, I wasn't exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even!"

"Yeah, because I was a dumb, hurt kid who decided that it was better to hurt than be hurt. As if you weren't exactly the same that day, lashing out at me first, at my reading ability, and mocking me for not being quick at math. Fuck you, Munson!" Steve walks away, not hearing anything Eddie shouts after him as he sprints up the stairs and shuts himself in his room.

Steve knows he was a dick in high school, and it's not Eddie's fault he was a dick. Steve made choices he's not proud of and no one forced those choice on him. But Eddie doesn't get to throw that back in his face. Not when Eddie made him feel humiliated and stupid on the first goddamn day of high school, long before Steve became mean himself.

#pre-steddie #my fic #prompt #sophomore eddie is a jerk #but only because he thinks steves gonna be a jerk first so hes gotta beat him to it #also steves very mean to eddie in his thoughts but its only his thoughts #tw: minor character death #its an oc tho #tw: suicide implied but not stated

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nancywheelersgirlfriend · 2 years

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Oh you wrote Cruel Summer one of my fave Steddie fics!

Since your asking for requests how about Steddie with Steve being super physically affectionate with his new boyfriend Eddie. Eddie is surprised and delighted since usually he's the one who's reaching out and patting shoulders or giving half hugs etc. And also happy that Steve doesn't seem to want to hide that they're so close/together. That Steve seems proud to be with Eddie 'the freak' Munson.

thank for you for the cruel summer love!

i love this concept!! i took some creative liberties with period-typical homophobia just bc i didn't feel like writing a bucketload of angst.

requests for fics/hcs are still very much appreciated! inbox is open :)

crimson (2,141 words)

In the back of his head, Eddie acknowledged Steve had a tendency for PDA - at the very least, Steve had never seemed too desperate to hide his relationship status in the hallways. A hazy memory comes to mind of Steve and Nancy being totally disgusting in the hallway between lunch and fifth period during Eddie’s junior year. It was just another trait that came with commanding the hallways in the way Steve did, surely one he’d lost since his fall from glory. Not that Eddie had really considered it all too much, but.

But then Eddie’s life went to shit, and apparently so had Steve’s - a mix of trauma-bonding and a similar taste in crappy horror movies gave Eddie a relationship he’d never in a million years thought he’d ever have. That Steve Harrington was not only not a douche (which Eddie hadn’t believed even if Dustin swore up-and-down) but he also liked Eddie, in a less-than-friendly way, in a way that made his stomach twist up with warmth.

They fell together easily, so easily it had Eddie wondering how he’d managed to get through the rest of his life just waiting for the moment Steve pulled him close on his porch and kissed him that night in June. But liking Steve was one thing. Dating Steve was a whole separate ballgame.

Steve was an incredibly affectionate person. He’d wrap an arm around Robin’s shoulders in greeting. He’d ruffle up Dustin’s hair to the point of knocking off his ever-present hat. He’d kiss Nancy’s cheek and clap Jonathan on the back. He made it a regular point to carry around the younger girls on his shoulders, especially El since she was still so small. However, would that affection translate to Eddie? Because Eddie wasn’t like Steve’s other romantic encounters. For start, he was a guy, so that pretty much eliminated all comparison. He was also a town pariah, a reputation only amplified by Hawkins’ general population all being under the impression Eddie had murked a bunch of teenagers that past spring break. And even though Steve was far, far off from the King he’d once been, Eddie wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d wanted to pretend Eddie didn’t exist in public.

But Steve wasn’t like that, because Eddie was quickly learning that Steve was practically perfect.

Eddie knew that this - this party, the atmosphere of warm bodies packed together in some nameless person’s living room - was Steve’s element. He’d known it, in fact, prior to Steve ever having known him. Being a wallflower freak came with the innate ability to peoplewatch. And so Eddie had watched Steve. Even if he never got directly invited to any of the parties King Steve showed up to, he could assume how Steve had acted - his hair bouncing up and down as he danced like a foolish maniac, grin hanging open and beer sloshing onto the front of his polo.

Now they were at a party together, a sentence so otherworldly and wonderful and scary Eddie found it hard to fit his mouth around the words. His hypothesis was correct by the way. The moment they arrived at Gina’s house, this girl Eddie had never seen and was almost sure didn’t exist but apparently knew Steve well enough to invite him over, Steve had gotten pulled into a group of people and out of Eddie’s grip. It was a loose grip, anyway, because Eddie was terrified.

If an opposite existed to the way Eddie usually spent his Friday nights, this was it. Surely Gina would be pissed that these kids, these idiot high schoolers were pulling on her stair banister and knocking down family portraits and spilling obvious beer stains on her patterned carpet. Why Steve had invited him in the first place was a complete mystery to Eddie.

Leaving his universe of cold basements and band practice to attend this party, taking a step up into a level of popularity and people he’d never wanted to know - it felt like a way bigger jump than the Upside-Down. But Steve was Steve. And Steve was his, in a weird way.

But just because Steve was Eddie’s and Eddie was Steve’s now did not mean Eddie became Steve’s to-go date to dumb parties. Eddie had first heard about Gina’s party from Robin when he picked her up from band practice and assumed he’d be completely out of its orbit - at the most driving up to grab whatever drunken state Steve on the curb in the early morning. No, that was not how it played out. It played out like Steve practically begging him to come, even though he abandoned him within twenty seconds of entering. And Eddie couldn’t resist Steve doing anything, much less begging him, even if it was over some stupid party with nobody familiar going.

He stood stock-straight against the wallpaper of the entryway, maybe fifteen minutes having passed but time stretched on painfully. Someone had passed him a red solo cup but he hadn’t moved, staying by the entrance perhaps in an unconscious decision to allow for a hasty exit if need be.

Steve’s bouncy brown mess appeared over the crowd first, and then his eyes - violently searching for something before landing on Eddie. His smile came next, blinding as he pushed through the crowd back to the front door. And he looked good. Girls at the party didn’t even attempt to hide their blatant stares as he stalked past in an all-black combat fit (one Eddie had helped him pick out). Eddie couldn’t blame them. It just hurt a little to accept the fact that there was no way in hell they’d ever really understand why Steve no longer paid attention to them.

“Thanks for cutting me loose, Steve,” Is what Eddie attempted to get out, maybe managing the first three words before Steve was head barreling into him and scooping him up. Steve’s arms wrapped protectively around Eddie’s waist, pressing their sides together as he grinned at him. And so the rest of the sentence was lost in the ether that was staring at Steve Harrington’s face, bright and open and so, so sweaty. “Jesus, you’re leaking.”

“It’s hot in here,” Steve said, completely oblivious to how much he was soaking all over Eddie and instead pulling them impossibly closer together. Which, wow. Definitely a surprise. “I missed you, Ed. Where’ve you been?”

“Um,” Eddie pointedly glanced around, “here. The whole time. You abandoned me, remember?”

“I didn’t abandon you, you big baby,” Steve said, rolling his eyes fondly. “I’m back, aren’t I? Come on, let’s dance.”

“Yeah, right,” Eddie laughed callously. Steve stared at him, confused. Which was shocking, because how could he not understand? “You actually wanna dance? In front of all these people? With me?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The hand around Eddie’s waist tightened, fingers slipping underneath his t-shirt and skimming over the warm skin. Eddie froze slightly at the contact, an opportunity of weakness Steve took to drag them both back into the crowd and closer to the speakers in the living room.

It was some dumb Frankie Goes to Hollywood song, one Eddie had just barely heard on the radio before. Hardly passable and under any normal circumstance he would’ve launched into a tirad against it; about how stupid and mainstream the song was. And Steve would grin fondly. But Eddie couldn’t get his mouth to move correctly. He’d forgotten how to speak English, actually.

Steve pressed up against Eddie’s front, chest to chest, so close that whatever they were to each other was obvious to a casual observer. He was bopping from side to side in that dumb little way Steve always danced, lacking in all rhythm or knowledge. His fingers came to loop around Eddie’s belt, pulling him closer and grinning openly. The thought of somebody paying a lick of attention to them both terrified and delighted Eddie, a flare of shock and excitement churning in his stomach. Who knew Steve Harrington’s love for PDA translated over to him?

Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck as a familiar Clash song came on the radio, nose pressed to his collarbone. Steve left a sweaty kiss trail behind, pulling up just as he reached Eddie’s mouth with a sneaky grin. Eddie let himself dance, because what else was there to do?

Neither really knew how to dance, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Steve got to press himself up to Eddie and shimmy in such a stupid way Eddie laughed so loud people turned around - that Steve’s arms were around Eddie’s shoulders and his hands were everywhere and so were his lips - they were in the center of this party, amidst a group of people Eddie had never and would never see again, and Steve wouldn’t let him go. Steve wanted these people to know they were together. It was a shocking revelation Eddie couldn’t get enough of.

“Steve!” Some girl shouted over the crowd, appearing with what looked like her boyfriend in tow. His hands were planted squarely at her waist, heads tucked together as they emerged from the crowd and headed towards Steve and Eddie. Eddie had never seen either of them before. He steeled himself to get ready for Steve to shove him away, perhaps remove his hands just enough for the excuse of ‘good guy pals’ to be plausible instead of laughable. But Steve didn’t. He kept one arm around Ed’s waist as he turned like a sunflower to whoever these people were, the grin on his face growing. It was a little plastic-y but who could blame him.

“Hi, Lisa! Paul, good to see you guys,” Steve nodded in greeting. Lisa’s eyes glanced over to Eddie but they soon darted back to Steve, as if Eddie was Steve’s shadow instead of an actual person beside him.

“Call me!” Lisa made the symbol with her hand and then they disappeared back into the crowd. Eddie watched them go, feeling Steve melt against him again absently.

“What’s up?” Steve asked, hand coming to Eddie’s chin to turn his head, watching him with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Who was that?” Eddie asked, unapologetically blunt.

“Just some friends from high school,” Steve shrugged easily, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to have greeted them with Eddie the Freak at his side. “We had English together senior year. What, did either of them do anything to you? Because I swear to God-”

“No,” Eddie cut him off before Steve could launch into an earnest but honestly unattainable murderous tirad (beacuse let’s be honest, how many fights had he lost at this point). “No, no I’ve never seen them before. I guess I just didn’t expect you to, I dunno.”

“Didn’t expect me to what?” Steve asked. “Oh, I love this song. It’s Madonna!” Eddie blinked in disbelief.

“We’re at a party, a Hawkins party, thrown by one of your asshole high school friends,” Eddie enunciated because clearly Steve wasn’t getting it. “An asshole friend who, no doubt, cares very much about reputations. Like you did. And yeah, you left for like, ten minutes at the beginning, but you’ve spent the whole party here. Dancing with me. Eddie Munson.” Steve’s face was contorted in puppy-dog confusion.

“Uh, yeah,” He replied. “Because you’re my boyfriend. Why would I be anywhere else?”

“Because I’m your boyfriend,” Eddie raised an eyebrow. Steve’s hands slackened at his sides and his face went sad, which was so not what Eddie had been going for.

“What, do you not want to dance with me?” Steve asked. He took a step back. “It’s okay, you just had to say-”

“No, it’s fine,” Eddie reassured. He grabbed Steve’s hands before they could go into his pockets and put them back on his waist. “I personally don’t give a shit. Not like my sexuality’s much a secret here anyway. In fact, I’m guessing at least half this room have called me a slur before. You, on the other hand-”

“Oh,” Steve breathed, nodding finally. Eddie gestured for emphasis. He’d gotten it. “Right. Yeah.”

“Yes,” Eddie agreed impatiently. After a moment, Steve just shrugged.

“You know I don’t care about that kinda shit anymore,” Steve said. “I dunno. It’s dark in here. I like dancing with you. I’m not friends with any of these people, not really. Why not dance together? Let them say whatever they want about us. Who cares?”

“Seriously?” Eddie said breathlessly. Steve nodded as if it was the simplest thing in the world and pulled him close again, chest-to-chest.

“Seriously,” Steve promised. And as the song revved up, Steve grinning that stupid silly grin he always did, Eddie couldn’t help but kiss him. It would’ve been nearly impossible not to.

#steddie #steddie fic requests #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steveddie #steve x eddie #steve x eddie fic #steddie fic #steddie oneshot #steveddie oneshot #steddie fic prompt

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