#steve harrington's parents

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I really like my headcanon that Steve’s parents are present, but they just happen to be gone whenever the kids or someone else in the party is around. Like maybe, Steve’s dad is fighting a giant scandal in his company, and his wife works with him, so she goes with him. Steve doesn't talk about his parents a whole lot because he's also keeping a secret for them. A secret only Robin knows. His parents are lavender married. His mom is a lesbian, and his dad is gay. His dad built his insurance company from the ground up to make sure everyone had the right to insurance, and as much as he doesn't like it, John Harrington has to save face for his clients and the people who work for him. Maggie, his wife, is his platonic soulmate and his rock, so their love is real. They have to keep up the appearance that they're straight for the asshole conservatives. Steve didn't always know, so he does everything to make sure that their secret is safe. I love Sean Robert Leonard and Stana Katic as his parents. . .in my head anyway. Anyone else is welcome to use all this as well.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington's parents #the Harringtons #bisexual steve harrington #steve harrington's parents are lavender married #robin buckley #lesbian robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic soulmates #platonic stobin #platonic with a capital p #rueleigh's thoughts #rueleigh's headcanons

[scoops-stevie-archive]

Steve sits on his bed as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He just sent Eddie home with the promise he'll call after everything is calmed down.

If he doesn't get kicked out first.

Half an hour ago they were getting ready for bed and kissing each other goodnight when a surprised "oh!" from his doorway makes them jump apart, Steve's mother standing there wide-eyed and a hand covering her mouth.

Now Eddie's gone and Steve's left alone to listen to the muffled argument coming from downstairs.

"—another boy, Linda! If this gets out—"

"Give the boy some credit, John. He's smart. By the looks of it this wasn't just a one time fling." His mother pauses and then says something that has Steve straining his ears to try and hear over the blood rushing.

There's a knock on his door a moment later and Steve wants to cry. If only she'd done that earlier. She steps in and closes the door behind her. Gingerly sits beside him. He keeps his eyes locked on his hands in his lap.

"Steven."

Her voice is gentle but it still makes him flinch. She sighs.

"We're not mad, Steven."

Steve lifts his head. "What—"

"I won't say it's something we saw coming," she continued. "It's a shock to us both."

His eyes are wide, darting around her face. "But— I— What about dad?"

Linda looks almost thoughtful. "Your father... He'll come around, give him time." She puts a hand on his knee. It's a comforting weight and it grounds Steve a little. He leans into his mother's side a little.

She tuts at him, "Oh, Steven," and wraps her arms around him and he buries his face in her shoulder, taking deep, steadying breaths. They sit like that for a few moments before Linda pulls away. Both of their eyes are a little red rimmed.

"Your father does want to talk to you before bed, though."

.

He stands outside of his parents' bedroom and knocks, his hands shaking.

"Come in."

Steve opens the door. His father is unpacking his suitcase and putting clothes back on their hangers. Before he can even get a word out, his father speaks.

"Have you been seeing that boy long?"

Steve nods. "Yes, sir."

"How long?"

"Almost a year. About eight months."

John pauses, but continues to unpack. He doesn't speak any further but Steve knows its not the end of their conversation. He stands by the door and tries not to fidget, feeling much like the little boy who stood in the same exact spot as he was scolded for breaking an expensive vase on accident.

Then, his father asks a question that completely floors him.

"Do you love him?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"That boy," John clarifies, "do you love him?"

Steve’s answer is immediate: "So much it scares me sometimes."

The expression on his father's face is a complicated one. He sighs and moves to sit on the bed.

"What’s his name?" he asks, patting the spot beside him.

"Eddie," Steve answers, slowly moving forward to sit beside his father. "Eddie Munson."

"Munson," John says thoughtfully, trying to place the name.

"His uncle said he went to school with you and mom," Steve says helpfully. "Wayne Munson."

John hums, his brow furrowed. "Hm, I don't remember much of him, but I do remember his brother making quite a ruckus." He looks at Steve. "Does he treat you well?"

"Like I'm made of glass," Steve says quietly, cheeks flushing, phantom caresses of Eddie's fingers tickling across his skin.

John studies him for a moment before sighing. "I just want you to be happy, son," he says, surprising Steve. "And if this boy— Eddie— is the person that does that, then... That's good enough for me."

It takes a minute for Steve’s mind to catch up with his father's words. He gape, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, and John laughs and pats his knee before standing.

"Close your mouth and go call your boy, I'm sure he's pacing by the phone worried out of his mind. Invite him over for dinner tomorrow night so we can meet him officially."

Steve practically runs downstairs. His mother gives him a look as he quickly dials the number he knows by heart.

Eddie picks up on the second ring.

"Stevie?" He sounds frantic, just like his father suspected. "Are you okay? Do I need to come get you?"

Steve laughs, feeling lighter than he has in years. "I'm okay, you don't need to do that. Um..."

John comes into the kitchen and stands behind his mother, the two of them giving him encouraging smiles.

'Ask him,' his mother mouths. Steve flushes and turns slightly away from them to have some privacy. He has a feeling this will be happening a lot more in the near future.

"So, listen, um. Don't make any plans for tomorrow night..."

#steddie #cj writes #steddie ficlet #hopping on the 'steve's parents aren't perfect but they mean well' train #cj talks #steve harrington's parents

[hbyrde36]

STWG Daily Prompt 3/9/24

Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild

Prompt: Bite

Rating: G | WC: 867

Emotional hurt/comfort, Steve Harrington's parents being the worst, the best uncle Wayne Munson, supportive boyfriend Eddie Munson, the party loves Steve Harrington

Steve had given up on his dad long ago, he was never going to be the kind of man Richard Harrington had always wanted his sons to grow up and be, but he’d held out hope for his mom—hope that someday she would learn to love him the way she loved his brother.

More than ten years between them, and the fact that the Harrington’s had moved to Hawkins only after Christopher had graduated high school and gone off to college, meant no one really knew Steve had a sibling. 

The party, Robin, Eddie—especially Eddie because how could they have been dating for over a year now and him somehow still not know about this—were all stunned to learn of the existence of another young Harrington.

He hadn’t meant to tell them at all, but then Christopher and their parents made a surprise visit home so that his brother could take possession of their grandmother’s ring and pop the question to his girlfriend of a whopping 9 months. Less time than he and Eddie had been seeing each other and didn’t that get under Steve's skin to know he’d never get to propose to his boyfriend with a family heirloom, not only because gay marriage wasn’t legal, but because his parents would never dream of handing down a piece of jewelry to their least favorite son.  

Steve wound up having to make the rounds, letting everyone know movie night was canceled because his brother was in town. Naturally they all wanted explanations for why this was the first they were learning of this mysterious person, and by the time he got to Eddie’s place, Steve was a mess. 

Years of mistreatment and neglect bubbled to the surface, and not just the big things but the little sniping comments, the small injustices—inequities between the way Mr. and Mrs. Harrington spoke of their older son vs their younger—hurt feelings that he’d pushed all the way down in order to function, in order to put a fucking smile on his face and hide the fact that he was damaged goods who not even a mother could love. 

It all came spilling out of him on Eddie’s bedroom floor as his boyfriend held him, rocked him, was his rock, tethering him to the earth.

When it was all over and Steve was calm, Eddie asked him why he still spoke to them, why he still lived in their house when he and Wayne had both–on separate occasions–invited him to live with them instead.

“They’re my family.” Steve said, shrugging. “I don’t have a choice.” 

“Of course you do, Stevie. You always have a choice. If you were to decide right here and now that you never wanted to see or speak to them again, you are allowed to do that. You hold all the power here. I’ll support you in whatever you decide, but I have to say in my humble opinion, they never deserved you.”

Steve took the night to think about it, though in the instant Eddie had said the words, given Steve the power to take control of his own life, he’d known what he was going to do. It was his life, he could do with it as he wished. He was already doing that with almost every other part of it, so why was he still letting his mom and dad hold any power over him? Why did he subject himself to their passive aggressive comments and disappointed glares?

In the end he never went back, not even to get his stuff. Wayne and Eddie did it for him, leaving behind his keys and his beloved car. 

A small price to pay for freedom. 

He called the next day and left a final message on the answering machine. 

“Please leave your message after the beep.”

“Hey mom. You’re the hardest one to say goodbye to, the last member of this family I held out hope for so you’ll have to forgive me for not doing this in person. My car keys are on the table by the front door. I know the BMW is in dad’s name and I know he wouldn’t want me keeping it under the circumstances.”

“I am no longer a Harrington. I’m sure you won’t mind because you barely thought of me as one to begin with but it’s official now. I’m moving on, and moving in with my boyfriend. Yes, boyfriend, because I am nothing if not a consistent disappointment.”

“It took me longer to see it with you because I've witnessed the way you care for the people around you, most of them anyway, and what you’ve done for this community.”

“You are a good person, except when you’re not. And you were a great mom, just not to me.”

There was no bite in his words, just a sad truth finally spoken aloud.

Steve hung up the phone feeling lighter than he ever had in his whole life, and sat down to dinner with the people who really loved him. His found family, who’d all dropped whatever they were doing at a moments notice to throw him an impromptu moving-in party at his new home with Eddie and Wayne. 

Thanks to my beloved @penny00dreadful for having a look over this 🥰

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington's parents #steddie fic #wayne munson my beloved #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #fanfic

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 12 part 1 | part 11 | ao3

ha haaaa, i lied about waiting until monday. cw: angst, gory imagery, implied prescription drug abuse

In his dream it’s raining pills.

Steve is crying in his car as rainbow pellets rain from the sky, and then he’s pounding on the Munson’s door while the pills burst into fine powder against his hair, his skin, his clothes. Eddie doesn’t come to the door but suddenly he’s there, teleported outside of it, apologizing right away when Steve demands to know what’s wrong.

“I don’t understand what happened.”

A flash of eyes, of lips; his face doesn’t fully form, but he sweeps one of those perusing looks all over Steve, sees his frayed edges and invites him in to stitch them up.

They talk and laugh for hours — dream logic where the seconds are minutes are years — letting their knees knock together, letting their pinky fingers brush. All the while little pills plink plink against the siding, pharmaceutical hail storm, and suddenly it's morning; Steve has drifted off; Steve has never slept so well. There’s a throw blanket made of cat fur and the smell of coffee and scrambled eggs, Wayne humming sleepily to himself at the stove, waving a spatula in greeting when he spots Steve getting up.

“Mornin'!” he grins. “Ed’s still sleepin’, but feel free to stick around.”

Outside the rain comes harder, heavy knocks against the roof, and when Steve peers into the pan he sees that Wayne’s frying up dead birds. "Just about ready."

He spears a fork into a wing. The feathers start to smoke. “You take your coffee black?”

—

“Ma, you gotta get a job.”

“Hmm?”

She’s watching I Love Lucy.

Steve's head is in his hands.

His elbows are going numb where they’re propped on the breakfast table, and his temples throb, a steady band of pressure like a giant's palm around the sides and back of his skull, pulsing down his aching neck. He’s been staring at next month’s budget for so long it looks like hyro…hiero—?

Whatever. Egyptian shit.

He can’t tell if he’s shit at math or if the math just doesn’t work, but either way it’s not working, and neither is his fucking mom, and he finds himself thinking about this one time in middle school when they took a field trip to a factory with a big hydraulic press. Got to tour the control room; got to pick which fruits to crush.

He remembers the watermelon most vividly of all: the way the rind groaned under the machine’s steady weight, splintering slivers snaked over striped flesh; slowly, slowly, then suddenly, boom!!

Watermelon guts on the concrete floor.

(That was also the first time he got to touch a girl's butt; all the girl's squealed and jumped back from the explosion, and one of them backed herself right into his hand. It was Liz Collins, and it was one hundred percent an accident, because, like, gross, Liz Collins, but still.

Memorable day for two reasons.

God, he needs a nap.)

“A job, ma,” he sighs, a little louder this time. “I can... I don’t know, I can maybe ask around, see if anybody’s hiring? Or- talk to Claudia. Or Karen,” he snaps his fingers by his ear, “or Joyce! She might— yeah. Yeah, she might be able to call and put in a good word at Melvalds...”

She might also be busy being far the fuck away from here. He taps his pencil against his cheek as envy crashes over him. He should be in California. Should spend his time hitting on beach babes and surfing sunny waves instead of drowning in debt and wondering why he’s on a first-name basis with so many random moms.

His mom still hasn’t acknowledged a single word he's said. "Hello? Ma? What d'you think?"

She turns to look at him finally. Gives him a dreamy, lovely smile.

She always was so pretty. “…I’m sorry; what were you saying?”

—

Steve flushes his mom’s pills.

—

part 13

tagging whoever commented recently if your settings will let me @acedorerryn @ahsokatanoss @annabanannabeth @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awolfstudio @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @fandomfix8 @grtwdsmwhr @hellion-child @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @lololol-1234 @messrs-weasley @nburkhardt @noodle-shenaniganery @ppunkpuppyy @rani-mayida @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @space-invading-pigeon @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @vacantwatchers @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #steve harrington's parents #st fic #my writing #my fic

[fandsart]

Steve whose parents are scrooge level extreme capitalists who don't believe that children should be allowed to "freeload" off their parents.

Steve whose dad pushes him into sports to eventually make something of himself and earn what little he is provided with.

Steve whose mom makes Steve maintain the house while they're away instead of hiring a housekeeper.

Steve whose parents are scrooge level extreme capitalists who pinch pennies even when they have so much money already.

Steve whose dad who doesn't pay for heating and cooling if he's away for long enough.

Steve who sometimes won't have access to warm water for months at a time.

Steve whose mom gives limited allowances for food, but is the level of rich that she's never really checked for prices herself and so underestimates how much things cost.

Steve who himself must pinch his pennies.

Steve whose parents are obsessed with appearances.

Steve whose mom who is sends clothes every now and then. The most stiff and respectable items on the market.

Steve who can't afford to waste money on clothes he actually wants because of his limited budget.

Steve whose dad sends a house inspector at least once a month if he's away for longer than a full one to make sure Steve has in fact been keeping up on it.

Steve who sometimes has to waste some of his precious money on cleaning supplies for the house.

Steve back in high school sitting there like ;-; while Eddie goes on a tabletop rant about how rich boy Steve could never understand what it's like to race in the shower with the water boiler to finish before the heat runs out, or what it's like to regularly skip meals to save money for clothes that are both actually comfortable and stylistically preferable.

Steve who took a cold shower that morning, and is now wearing the itchiest and ugliest thing left in his wardrobe because he needs to buy detergent which is why he skipped lunch that day ;-;

Steve whose always been teased for his big-ass house and his pool and these luxuries that surround him that he honestly has very few positive experiences with. Steve not realizing until that very moment that he, himself, is not actually all that financially stable at all.

Steve having an existential crisis in the middle of the day in the Hawkins High cafeteria

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington angst #steddie prompt #<- I guess #steve harrington's parents #fandsart

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Family Heirloom and Starry Night (Discord Drabble) Two prompts in 24hrs, the drabblers are spoiled today. It's Lex's birthday! @thefreakandthehair I'm so sorry that my Frankenstien prompt for your b'day is also Steve Sad Boy™ hours. But it has a light-hearted end!!! 🏈🏈🏈 tw: death of a grandparent (way in the past)

"Why would mom mail this to me?" Steve finally mutters from his position at the kitchen bench.

Eddie shimmies upright on the couch and rubs at his eyes, long glazed over from forcing himself to pretend to pay attention to tonight's game. He'd flipped it over a good half an hour ago as the space he had given Steve started to linger on a little too long for his liking.

He just wasn't supposed to almost fall asleep while waiting for Steve to join and watch his favourite team win all those... points? touchdowns?

It doesn't matter nearly as much as the package that was delivered late in the afternoon – one that has left Steve glued to his kitchen stool.

A heavy but small and thin box with 'FRAGILE' and 'DO NOT BEND' emblazoned all over it, the red warnings leaving just enough space for their address and the return label.

Steve has opened it, Eddie realises, looking over his partner's impossibly hunched shoulders when he reaches him.

"I don't remember ever seeing that in your house, sweetheart," he says, standing close and snaking his arms around Steve's middle.

He frowns at the small framed print of Vincent Van Gough's Starry Night painting and rests his chin on Steve's shoulder.

"Mom hated it," Steve explains, "Refused to hang it anywhere in the house after my Grandpa passed. He left it to her."

Eddie hums in the affirmative.

The gold and gaudy frame doesn't exactly scream Mrs Harrington's taste in decor...

"Should I call her?" Steve rasps, setting the print down to pinch his nose, "What if something's wrong and that's why she is sending it to me?"

Eddie can feel his lip quivering.

"Maybe we should talk first, hmm?" he suggests, giving Steve a reassuring squeeze.

"Or..." Steve continues, his tone becoming bitter, "She's sending it now to make it official. That I'm no longer..."

He cuts himself off with a shaky exhale and looks around their relatively new (but technically very old and rundown) apartment. A quiet little spot in Indy they'd scored without too much searching.

One that they soon filled with their records and clothes, Eddie's amp and guitar and Steve's old trophies. Too many knickknacks they'd thrifted with the help of Robin and a lot of second-hand furniture Wayne found.

An apartment they are still in the process of making their own as they work themselves out together.

Their place in the world. Their home.

Eddie looks over to a patch of blank wall by the phone.

A spot that could use something...

"Do you like it, the painting?" he whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve's ear.

Steve grips the frame, his knuckles quickly turning white as he tenses up. He nods his head vigorously and sniffles.

"My grandpa..."

"Starry, starry night," Eddie sings low, "Paint your palette blue and grey..."

He reaches out to place his hands over Steve's and feels them relax in his touch.

"Look out on a summer's day..." Steve continues wetly, "Yeah..."

He sighs and closes his eyes, shifting his weight back onto Eddie.

"Looks like a pretty good heirloom to me," he says, swaying them just enough to leave Steve humming contentedly without threatening his position on the rickety kitchen stool.

Eddie continues humming the song, a favourite of Wayne's that he only ever passively listened to enough to pick up on the opening line and tune.

"Wanna watch the game with me?" he asks, nodding back to the television as he finishes the song.

Steve giggles, his shoulders gradually shaking them both.

"Baby, I watched that game two Sundays ago."

"But it's your favourite," Eddie argues, jostling their conjoined form, "The Cubs!"

"Eds, that's baseball!"

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #lilys drabbles #stwgdailyprompt #steddie ficlet #steve harrington angst #tw death of a grandparent #steve harrington's parents #harrington family TM

[formosusiniquis]

There's something about the idea that every adult that spends more than ten minutes alone with Steve Harrington is instantly enamored with him 

The King Steve era house parties don't get broken up by the cops anymore. Steve is too far from his nearest neighbors for a noise complaint and the cops who would do it like Steve. They know they don't have to worry about any underage drinking and driving incidents after a Steve Harrington party because anyone who doesn't have a DD just crashes at the Harrington place, it's not like they have to worry about getting out of there before his parents get home.

His teachers can't help but let certain things slide. Excusing a middle school Steve's tardiness, the Harrington house is such a long bike ride away from the school and the bus route doesn't reach the grounds of Loch Nora. High School Steve's grades are average at best and his attention drifts, but his questions if poorly worded are insightful at heart and if you catch him away from the friends he tries too hard to keep he's polite and willing to spend time discussing his school work. By senior year they're excusing his tardiness again, they all know he has to swing by the middle school on his way over; and his forgetfulness too, two concussions in as many years it's a wonder he's not worse.

Joyce Byers, who by all accounts should hate this boy who fought her son and belittled her family, already has a snag in her armor thinking about a little boy who used to bike to Melvalds all alone for more milk and the sugar dusted cereal his mother didn't like him to have. Has her walls damaged by Jonathan coming home with a Christmas present they both know Nancy Wheeler even in her middle class glory couldn't afford. Has the adoption papers ready to be notarized when that same little boy, just a little bit bigger, offers to cart her Will around town since he knows she and Jon are busy and he has nothing better to do; really, and Will is the only one that ever says please or thank you.

Hopper, who largely left the everyday police work to the other officers, didn't interact with Steve much until the Upside Down business started. He's ready to add Harrington to the list of kids he'd die to protect the second the bloodstained boy cracks open a bleary eye from the Byers' sofa. Concussed and happy for it since it meant the youngest ones were safe.

Claudia Henderson has decided that the law has little to do with family. She's seen too many young men in the hospital grieving loved ones they can't see while parents who don't care make decisions for the dying. Steve Harrington is hers now has been since he did her Dusty's hair. The Sinclairs only let Erica roam the mall on her own on days they know Steve is working. They know no matter what Erica and Lucas promise the two of them aren't staying together. There's something rotten in Hawkins, and the kids don't whisper as quietly as they think they do. They know there's something they are missing, but they don't need to know everything to know they can trust the boy who put himself bodily in front of their child to protect him. Karen still occasionally mourns the loss of Steve as a son-in-law but the fact that he still drives Mike around even on his surliest days, she couldn't ask for more.

Wayne Munson lasted the longest. A product of night shifts and a powerful wariness around anyone whose tax bracket exceeds his by more than one jump. But he knows the kind of skittish that Steve is, remembers an eight year old boy with eyes he hadn't grown into who used to skitter away from a sharp tongue or raised hand just the same. Even then all it takes is sitting next to Steve on a rare night off, the game fuzzing in and out on the TV, listening to him softly explain the rules of it all to his boy relating it back to the ones of that dragon game Eddie likes so much and he's gone. Steve's a hard worker, a wage slave as much as Wayne these days, seems wrong to begrudge him just cause the house he's kept at is a little bigger than theirs. There are worse boys to have as future in-laws, even if he is a Cubs fan.

The only person who doesn't seem to get the memo is Richard Harrington. So rarely around his own son he isn't swept up in the charm. Richard and Stephanie Harrington make their way back to Hawkins, unannounced on a Tuesday. The sleepy morning hours are still lingering when they make their way into the house, through the foyer, and onto the kitchen; following the sounds of crooning oldies. Richard has long thought his son a disappointment, too lazy to get into college and too spoiled to leave home, catching him dancing around the kitchen like a fairy with some trailer trash punk is really the last straw. He lets the wife he wishes he didn't have make some asinine comment to this freak that's in his kitchen, and turns to the child he never wanted to say, "I want you out, I won't have a queer living under my roof."

Stephanie and that long haired bastard both rear back like they've been slapped. While Richard is forced to watch as the son he's neglected straightens up, every ounce the man every other adult on Hawkins has watched him become, look him in the eye and say, "It's not your house, it never was. Grandpa Otis left it to me. So if you've got a problem with me or my fucking boyfriend, you can get out of my house. Looks like you're already packed."

That empty house gets emptier as Richard, alone, takes the furniture he paid for and the clothes that lingered in the closet; but it's quickly filled with the hand-me-downs of everyone who has ever fallen for that Harrington charm. They're all too happy to help Steve fill what's his.

#steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fic #steddie #steve harrington hc #wayne munson #joyce byers #chief hopper #jim hopper #steve harrington's parents #i find steves mom to be fascinating and i genuinely think she really loves her son #i think she saw her boy happy in the kitchen with eddie and immediately wanted to meet him #maybe made a comment about eddies hair like mother like son #i think theyre relationship is extremely complicated but i think push come shove her son will always beat her husband #i couldnt think of a good way to work the buckleys in here but they also think steve would be an excellent son in law

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Five Christmases

Prompt Day 25: Christmas | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Christmas Day, Full Schedule, Family & Friends, Mostly Fluff, A Little Obligation, Steve POV

Christmas, 1999

8:06 AM

Steve is towel drying his hair, when Eddie pops into the doorway and taps his watch. 

"The day has just started and we're already six minutes behind, Harrington. C'mon!" 

Steve nods, "We'll be fine."

"Steve! Five Christmases! You committed us to five! That's a tight fucking schedule," Eddie shouts, and Steve just laughs. Usually he's the uptight one.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Steve says, just poking at him further. Just for fun, as a Christmas treat.

"This was your idea, asshole," Eddie says, slamming the bathroom door behind him, "I'm leaving in nine minutes, with or without you!"

"Okay, Bono!" Steve screams, not even sure if Eddie heard him.

9:12 AM

"Sorry we're late!" Eddie yells, pushing the front door open, letting themselves inside. "It's Steve's fault!"

Wayne gets up when he hears the door open, and Steve hugs Wayne. Eddie needs to chill the fuck out. Nobody is going to care if they are a few minutes late. Well, his parents will care. But nobody else will, especially not Wayne, that's for damn sure. 

Wayne's house smells wonderful, like maple syrup, coffee and bacon. This was a perfect first stop of the day, nobody does breakfast better than Wayne. 

They help him carry it all to the small formica kitchen table, sliding into the comfortable vinyl chairs, and it tastes as good as it smells. 

This is Christmas. 

The one thing they've done every year they've been together. Breakfast with Wayne. It's the only true Christmas tradition they have, and Steve wouldn't trade it for the world.

11:58 AM

Steve looks at his watch. They definitely aren't late as they stand on the steps, having rung the bell at the Harrington residence. 

Steve debates ringing it a second time, but just waits. Surely they heard it.

And it takes forever, because it's cold as shit out here, but his mother finally answers the door.

"Hi, mom. Merry Christmas," Steve says, and she nods her head at them, opening the door wider.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Harrington," Eddie says, politely. 

The long, formal dining room table is set up, and since it's just for the four of them, it's a little ridiculous. But he slides into his chair, a thousand miles away from everyone else at the table. His parents at either end, and Eddie across from him, hands folded in his lap.

He's nervous, Steve can tell. It never gets more comfortable, this awkward tip-toeing they all do around each other.

His parents know about Eddie, but would rather pretend otherwise, Steve supposes.

So, they eat their awkward meal, in uncomfortable stretches of silence.

In the car, Steve reaches over and takes Eddie's hand into his own, bringing it up to his lips.

"Thank you," Steve says, and Eddie nods. "The next one will be more fun," Steve promises and Eddie grins, wide and excited.

2:11 PM

They are barely up the walkway when the front door swings open, banging against the hallway wall.

"Shoes!" Steve hears being hollered from the house, but it's too late. Eddie's got an armful of little girl, despite her mother's warning.

"Uncle Eddie, Santa came!" she yells and Eddie smiles, brushing the snow off of her bare feet. 

Gareth appears in the doorway, to usher them inside, as his daughter regales them with tales of all her new toys that Santa brought this morning.

Eddie puts her down once they're inside, and rattles the sack he has thrown over his shoulder, full of more presents. 

Gareth shakes his head, but hugs Eddie once Eddie's handed over the sack, and she's ran into the living room, to open them up.

"You didn't have to do that," Gareth says, and Steve hears Eddie laugh. Of course they did.

"Sure we did, that's our girl, too, you know. And it's our right, as her super fun uncles, to spoil her rotten," Eddie states.

Gareth laughs, and settles onto the armrest of the chair Eddie has plopped down into, to watch her tear open the wrapping paper with delight.

5:33 PM

"Merry Christmas, dickhead," Steve says, and hugs Dustin.

"Back atcha," Dustin answers, guiding them into the living room. There's a nice fire going, and it's cozy. 

Steve's glad Henderson finally moved closer to home, again. It's been too long. 

Dustin pours them both a drink, and they sit and just talk. It's quiet, calm, and comfortable. All things Steve never would have assigned to Dustin Henderson, even ten years ago. But he's grown up, right before their very eyes. 

Their kid.

He'll always be their kid.

7:45 PM

Robin's running around her kitchen, and it smells slightly of smoke, so as soon as they're in the door, they both step in to help her, so she doesn't actually burn the place down. She wanted to do dinner by herself this year, and they'd all agreed, but she's clearly in over her head.

"I just spilled on the burner! It's fine! Nothing's on fire!" she yells, and Steve picks up the smoke detector from the counter, that's clearly been yanked off the wall.

"I can confirm!" Robin's girlfriend yells from the other room.

And honestly? Steve thinks they're both right, taking a good look around the kitchen. It all looks really good. A huge mess, for sure, but damn good. 

"It looks great, Robbie. You're killing it," Steve says, hugging her from behind, and she shrugs him off, still moving at warp speed around the kitchen. 

When they head towards the table, Steve kisses Robin on the top of the head before taking his seat, "Thanks for going to all this trouble."

Robin just rolls her eyes.

11:54 PM

"Merry Christmas," Steve says, as Eddie slides into bed, flopping against his pillow, groaning at the simple pleasure of the act.

"I have one more present for you," Steve says, sliding his hand over Eddie's bare stomach, and that gets Eddie's attention. 

"I'm listening…"

Steve laughs, and leans over, kissing him. 

Notes: The idea came from the Gilmore Girls episode where they have to go to four Thanksgivings in one day. Then I was googling the spelling of Christmases (to make sure, ha) and realized there is a movie called Four Christmases. So, that too, I guess, lol.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #christmas #christmas fic #future fic #christmas day #established relationship #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth (stranger things) #robin buckley #wayne munson #dustin henderson #steve harrington's parents #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

[augustjustice]

Second in Line (aka Blake Harrington fic), 2/?

AO3 Link

Part 1

The telltale sound of footsteps echo again from inside the apartment, approaching the door.

“Eds? What is it?”

The voice rings out before Blake can see him, and a second later, he’s sliding into the doorway beside ‘Eds’ despite the tight space, one shoulder on the frame and his hip pressed firmly up against the other man’s.

Blake feels his heart speed up in his chest. 

The man now standing before him has on a red Chicago Bulls sweatshirt, so faded it looks almost pink. Despite the cold outside, he’s wearing light wash, cutoff jean shorts at a length that would earn a dirty look from Blake’s father, and thick white baseball socks that are pulled up over his calves. His hair is floppy, not as long as Eds’ but curling over his ears and brushing the back of his neck–unkempt, Blake can practically hear the derision in his mother’s voice–and a shade or two lighter than Blake’s own, sun-kissed blonde highlights shimmering in it. 

He squints down at Blake through thick-rimmed glasses, his brow furrowing in obvious confusion and…

…There they are. His mother’s honey-coated brown eyes peer back at him.

“Who’s this?” he asks.

When the man turns his head to look at ‘Eds,’ Blake catches a flash of white, so small and subtle he almost missed it entirely.

His brother’s got a single pearl earring, shining in the lobe of his right ear.

Eds gives a shrug of one shoulder, the twitch of his lip seeming to hint he’s repressing an amused smile. His eyes swivel between the pair of them, from Steve to Blake then back again, taking it all in.

"Sweetheart, why don't you ask the little dude his name?" 

When Steve turns to him again, Blake feels an uncanny sense of déjà vu, like he’s looking into a mirror, or being reintroduced to a family friend he met when he was too small to remember. 

“What’s your name, buddy?” Steve asks dutifully. 

“Blake,” Blake stutters out nervously, having lost all of the decorum he managed to hold onto when introducing himself to Eds, “–Harrington.”

Eds and Steve’s heads turn towards each other in unison, perfectly in sync. Blake feels an inexplicable stab of jealousy at that, the way the pair of them move in tandem. It speaks to a familiarity that runs bone-deep.

“...Holy shit,” Steve murmurs, running a hand up through his hair.

Eds nods in agreement. 

“Yeah, babe. What can I tell you? This one’s a doozy.” 

Then he opens the door a bit wider, all while Steve continues to stare into the middle distance of the hallway.

“You’ll have to forgive Stevie here–he’s usually more of the Suzy Homemaker type than me, but, uh…you’re gonna have to give him a second, on this one, I think.” Hooking his arm easily into Steve’s own, Eds tugs the pair of them backwards, then gives a flourishing bow. “So come into our humble abode, young traveler. Sit a spell, and spin your tale for us.”

The two men back away from the doorway completely, then, giving Blake room to cross the threshold. 

He does.

And it’s a small thing, really, but it feels big. Because, for the first time in his life, he’s stepping out of his parents’ wealthy, polished world…and into his long lost brother’s.

Quick tag list below the cut:

@zerokrox-blog, @just-super-fucking-gay, @justanother-anon, @aphrobites

I did my best to tag people who expressed interest in being on the tag list when I wrote the first part of this. However, I recognize that was back in December, so if you're on this tag list and would like to be removed, please feel free to let me know! I understand it's been a while and people have moved fandoms, etc. My apologies also if I missed anyone, and if you would like to be added, tell me and I'll be happy to tag you going forward!

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #future fic #steve harrington's parents #and his family in general #blake harrington au #my writing #my stuff #my things #second in line

[newgrangespirals]

The Harrington Parents

What if Steve is not actually an only child. He is actually the youngest. The reason his parents are never around and we never get any mention of older siblings is that there is a very large age gap. Is sibling closest to him is more than 10 years older than him. His sibling or siblings are in were in college or close to it when he was born.

His parents never wanted another child. They had done their WASPy due diligence and had the appropriate number of children and raised them to adulthood. Then Mrs. Harrington got pregnant. They thought is was menopause at first, but, no, it was another child. They were looking forward to being empty nesters, and they did not want another child.

Steve grew up knowing his parents didn’t want him. He was a mistake that got in the way of their perfect retirement plan. He would hear his parents talk to his siblings on the phone and seem so proud of his lawyer brother or his senator's wife sister. 

His parents went to his sister’s wedding anniversary, it was the same day as an important swim meet. They were there for when his brother made partner, it was Steve’s 10th birthday. 

He tried to be more like his brother. His brother in high school was on the basketball team. He was swim captain. It didn’t work. His parents still were never home.

He is not close to his siblings. They did know what to do with a toddler begging for their parents attention. Then they had their careers and their own kids to focus on. Steve was left at home, alone, watching his parents be good ones to the children they actually wanted. 

It wasn’t them. They were good parents. They never forgot an important date. They were attentive. They called on birthday’s and visited on holiday’s. So the problem wasn’t them. He watched them be great parents, ones that any kid love to call their own. He was just watching it happen to other people.

His parents were good parents. They just didn’t want him. 

So, he must be the problem.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington's parents #sad steve harrington #steve harrington whump

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I was just thinking about how I apparently have the same taste in women as my dad. Can you imagine Steve finding out his parents have a lavender marriage? Also, imagine him flipping his lid when he realizes his dad's taste in men kind of looks like Eddie and his mom's taste in women kind of look like Nancy. Robin, who found out at the same time, was there too. He turns to her.

"Robin!" He squeaked. "I have the same taste in people as my parents!"

Meanwhile, Robin is on the floor laughing her ass off. She sat up for a moment, gasping for breath as tears came, and pointed at him. She collapsed back on the floor, still pointing.

"Robin! This isn't funny!" Steve squawked.

"It's a little funny," Eddie said, snickering.

Oh, yeah, Eddie was there too.

"Eddie, if my dad was younger, he would go for you!" He yelped.

"And I would be very flattered, but baby, you're the only Harrington I want," Eddie replied. "There's nothing to be jealous of."

"I'm not jealous! I'm freaking out!" Steve said. "We. Have. The. Same. Taste."

John Harrington came waltzing into the living room, whistling.

"You want a scotch, son?" John said. "A nice glass of scotch always calms me down."

"No, I do not want a scotch, dad," Steve bitched at him. "I hate scotch."

"See, now, there's something," John said. "Your mother and I both love scotch. We don't have exactly the same tastes. Now, if you want to, you can have the house to yourself. There's a nice bar in Indie your mother and I like to go to."

"Is it the one with all the goofy shit on the walls?" Eddie asked.

"Yes!"

"Robin and Steve like to go there too!" Eddie said, and Steve slapped a hand to his face.

"Well, we're just going to get out of your hair. Edward, don't get my son pregnant. His mother isn't ready to be a grandmother yet," John said and walked out of the room, waving at them.

"I LOVE your dad," Eddie cackled.

"I thought you said that I had nothing to worry about," Steve scowled and threw a pillow at him.

"You know, your mother kind of looks like Robin," Eddie said, scrunching up his nose.

"Does this mean that we're destined to have a lavender marriage of our own and have a turkey baster baby too?!" Robin exclaimed with a gasp. "Because I'm telling you right now I am not pushing your big headed baby out of my vagina!"

"Well, if you give me your gender, Buckley, I would gladly do it myself!" Eddie exclaimed. "It's really very selfish of you."

Robin glared mockingly at him before hitting him with a pillow, which resulted in a pillow fight. Steve rolled his eyes at the ceiling.

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington's parents #they're decent in this scenario #steve has good parents au #robin buckley #steve & robin #platonic with a capital p #platonic soulmates #stranger things ficlet

[emo-nova]

Instability of a Dollhouse

Written for this Prompt, know that there is mentions of a child being thrown into water to learn how to swim very early on! For the wonderful @plyerice27 :)

_______

Steve didn’t like the house he lived in. He says it’s just the house because it’s not his, never will be with the rate he’s going at, and the conditions put on to kill him. Though it sounds dramatic, it is possibly true. His parents could get up and leave in an act of deep rooted grief and let his body fester in a uncaring town in the middle of nowhere. A part of him knew that he would deserve it. His parents, especially his father, preached that he should be able to move around the house and know what to do and fix and clean after himself as well as know how to budget for his own future. 

The way they taught him is similar to how his father taught him how to swim when he was younger. Throwing him head first into the pool and letting him figure it out from there and once he knew how to float it was quick for him to know how to swim. It took a minute but he figured it out. But then he was terrified of being in water and his father sent him to become part of the swim team to make him get over it. 

So when he was thrown into this situation when he was eight, it was for two weeks, and he learnt the hard way that it was difficult but it was easy to figure it out on the first day. That being with the amount of money that he has for the period and having it stretch out for the time he was left alone, then came the housekeeping skills and then came the inspector. He met the inspector, a lovely lady called Kathy who didn’t speak much and arrived just after four-thirty on the twentieth of each month to ensure that Steve still had time to finish up the house, before inspecting the place to tell his father how he is doing with the house in his care.

Steve thought it was normal. A normal open secret that anyone with similarly money-pinching parents as him. That cold showers were mostly the norm, even in the winter, and that some days he had to skip lunch to allow himself to get some cleaning products that he was running low on or to get a certain pair of shoes that he had been eyeing for a while. 

He guessed it was normal and carried on. Because that’s why Steve didn’t like living in that house. It was an ice-cube because his father wasn’t there or it was secretly holding the desert as it would be a waste of money to have heating as  well as heating while he was living there on his own. 

Steve had long since been used to switching off all the lights when leaving the house, making sure that the washing machine was finished and the tumble-dyer was also done before leaving. Making sure that there was plenty of supplies for cleaning under the sink, counting how many scoops of detergent, dishwasher salt and dish soap he had for the month before another piece of allowance was coming in. Steve was used to it. 

Used to the cold house. Used to the colder showers. Used to the constant watch of the pantry dwindling with each dime being watched. Used to not having the right clothes for certain occasions as the ones his mother sent him weren’t exactly fit for school. Used to making sure that gas in the car was enough for the week, and the emergency tank in the garage he got when his parents were home from a few months ago. 

School was it’s own issue with people trying to get a taste of the house, his parents money as his was going down the drain even as he watched it, his ‘perfect’ life. Which, he could see as that, with little to no pestering parents and little to no worries of when they would come back. But Steve missed that. Missed it when his mother would nag him for details over certain things in school, always happy to hear of his social standing. Missed it when his father would look at him with this small fraction of a glow of pride when he hears of his winning in swimming.

Today, however, was becoming worse by the minute. Steve could feel a cold coming on and he didn’t have nearly enough cold medicine to stave it off until his bonused allowance came, as it was his birthday was coming this month. The cold shower he had most likely made it worse as there wasn’t a fever yet. And then there was Tommy H. Carol wasn’t in due to some kind of family emergency that was most likely a vacation in disguise.

Tommy H, being stoked into a jealous rage about Carol being unfaithful for the tenth time this month, pleaded, “Just at your place! It’s, like, the perfect place to show up this guy!” Happily trying to butter up Steve to use the house when the Kathy would walk the halls of his house in two days time, as if being ‘King of Hawkins High’ would get him off in this department. “C’mon, Carol would be amazed by what I could do to fuck up this guy, I’m serious.” 

Looking at him. Firm and certain, “No, I need to sort out things for the house, and I don’t have the time to clean up a wrecked up house,” Steve denied him, watching Tommy deflate and it never filled him with so much joy. As the person who would be getting beat up would be Tommy H, he didn’t have much social standing as he could only be used as a one-trick pony in basketball and was friends with Steve for years. Meaning he always got out of a fight scot-free when Steve would be the one pulling the punches for him.

“I could help,” Tommy said after a moment, hope in his eyes. Steve fiddled with a ball as he had to skip lunch to buy detergent and a couple other cleaning supplies for the day.

“I said, no. And that is final.”

“Oh, c’mon!”

Screech! Thud!

Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was standing on the table. Long limbed and wearing plaid as his hair was still growing out in waves and curly dark brown. His wide eyes were set on Steve. As if the mere sight of him insulted Eddie. “Most rich-folk won’t understand in their perfect pearly ivory-towers, my dear friend! Where they have not a single thing wrong with their home,”

Tommy muttered something about Eddie being a weirdo or a freak. Eddie was making a well-practiced march across his table, “Where they would have an endless supply of warm water for a shower and wouldn’t have to worry about using it all or that it would cost too much!” His eyes moved from Steve, as Steve sat statue-still. “Where they wouldn’t skip a meal as they decided to pay more for clothes or where they wouldn’t understand the need to pinch-pockets to make sure there is still food in the pantry and fridge,” Eddie was loud, expressive as he have moving hands and contort his face into the most unhappy face he could. Steve’s jumper, slightly itchy and outdated by two years, felt like it was made of iron as he remembered how he had a shopping list written on his wrist.

“In their little world, they don’t know the meaning of a cold home because the heating was costing too much that year or that the budget needed to use some money for your birthday to make sure that you survived.” Hopping off the table to land on his chair, eyes flashing around the room to land on Steve. To watch and peer at his face as he said, “You wouldn’t know that, instability if it hit you, in that delightfully lil’ dollhouse, Harrington. Would you?”

Steve knew what that was like - what? No, he had a nice house. A nice pool. A roof over his head. Parents that were gone most days nowadays. Staring. Wide-eyed and strangely seen. Steve sat there.

Everything he knew crumbling. Crumbling and falling like boulders on top of him. Steve tried to use that practiced, painfully fake smile as he nodded. He had an appearance to uphold. 

Steve carried on shifting the ball from palm to palm. Waiting for the clock to click to the next class. As wide-eyes pierced Steve. 

Even when the ground stayed where it was. Steve felt it shake and tremble under him even in that damn house. He always hated that house he lived in. 

#steddie #ficlet #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steve harrington's parents #are assholes! #eddie munson #steve harrington angst #steve harrington whump #stranger things #eddie stranger things #st #steve stranger things

[findafight]

I have an extremely stupid thought: Addams!Steve. His parents are horrified at his normalness. Everybody in the family tries to come up with ways to make him enjoy pain, even a little. They are all devastated that his interests are basketball and popularity. Usually, he isn't even cruel on purpose! His parents do their best to support him in his interests (this is why their house is so horribly decorated) and leave every time they feel the need to Be Weird or visit the family. When the Upside Down happens, they are overjoyed. Finally, a truly Addams pastime! But he doesn't seem to be having a lot of fun? Is he just trying to fit in their family? They don't want him to change for them, they just want him happy! His parents end up leaving him alone longer so he doesn't feel pressured to share the delightful portal to Hell (or keep getting involved if it stops being fun) and check in on him from time to time. He looks so delightfully beat up every time! What fun! Let's give him space. If he wants to battle hellmonsters, they definetely aren't gonna stop him! Even if it's a bit strange that he hasn't chosen one as a pet yet. Oh, no, is he secretely having a bad time? Does he not enjoy the hell portal? Look Steve we support your normal lifestyle! Do you want a job? A normal, horri- we mean, it's-totally-cool-if-you-want-one job? We won't think less of you if you do!

Steve for his part is very grateful that his family are so supportive of him, even if he's still trying to find a way to ask them for help with the Upside Down stuff without 1) secretely disappointing them and 2) his family making the situation worse on purpose. He knows they wouldn't mean to! But if he asks his mother to shut down a portal to a nightmare dimension full of flesh-eating monsters without even letting her keep one as a pet he might just make her cry, and that's unconscionable.

He's also under the impression that he knows the difference between people-normal and Addams-normal, but he still gets tripped up from time to time. Dustin keeping Dart as a pet? Duh, super normal, didn't even think about it until everyone started berating Dustin. What do you mean Jonathan and I aren't friends? We loved the same girl (who chose him), clearly we are Friends For Life.

(He'll never admit that Eddie is the first thing in his life that felt Right to every part of him. Sweet as pie the way he likes it even if his family is baffled by the preference, with a Deeply Weird appearence and demeanor that remind him of the best parts of home)

Yes yes Oh my god your mind.....

In S1 when Steve says his parents are away because dad has business and his mom went with him because she doesn't trust him it's not that his dad's adulterous it's because his mom didn't trust his dad not to, like, go grave robbing without her, (such a romantic date in the moonlight and it would be a shame to do it all alone, she knows he can't resist it though...)and they knew Steve wasn't particularly About That and also don't want him around for date night, and they don't want to do Weird Shit (their normal) in Hawkins because they don't want to have a reputation that would harm their darling normie son, AND he needed to stay in school at least for sports.

They return and he's like so I fought a demon creature from another dimension and got my shit rock by Jonathan who is now my best friend... (Because I doubt an Addams cares about NDAs within the family) and his parents are delighted! A portal to a hell dimension! Steven! You'll have to invite us along next time, and bring that nice young woman who is even MORE normal than you-oh she pointed a gun at you? Magnificent she'll fit right in! But they notice he's even more wound up than before and his mother, sister to Gomez Addams (hence the Harrington name), goes to her brother and bemoans the development.

"a hell dimension! In our own backyard, Gomez! We should all be rejoicing on our luck! But poor Steven only seems stressed. Apparently a girl died in our pool and instead of inviting her to haunt us he just feels guilty. I don't know what to do... However, the nail studded bat--complete with blood splatter, it's marvelous, you really must see it--is a welcome addition to the decor in the main room that we may be able to relax the highly attuned 'normal' look and expand from the basement."

And the next year, Dustin gets Steve to look for Dart and he's like "wait it's a baby demogorgon? Oh man my cousins would be sooo jealous. It ate your cat? Ah. I see. Eating a family member is certainly frowned upon." And Dustin is like. Why aren't you mad that it's a demogorgon u weirdo. What the hell. And Steve realizes that maybe weird carnivorous pets is an Addams Thing. In his defense Dustin got one. He'll have to tell his mom that it tends to eat other pets and isn't advisable.

Afterwards everyone is so proud! Steve helped defend some children who seem very keen on arson, which an Addams can relate to, and he always wears a broken nose so well. It is unfortunate that that Nancy girl broke his heart, but all's fair in love and war, and an Addams can bounce back! And what a tale, to have a girlfriend run away with you best friend! Worthy of a revenge plot, hmm Steve? Oh? No? You just what to cuddle and watch sad movies? Well. Alright then.

Perhaps a summer job, at that new mall will help. That is what normal people do, right? And Steve is so keen on normality that his parents can't refuse. They go on vacation, the last week of June, and tell him to just consider poisoning some of the icecream. Just a little! A bit of botulism or ecoli is good for a community! Keeps everyone on their toes.

They cannot believe they missed it AGAIN! Horrible luck, missing all the fun in their hometown. But, Steve seems to be bouncing back, (and his mother and father were both relieved and disappointed that the Russians who dared torture their sweet little pastel son and his friend were blown up before they could get a taste of Addams retribution) he's got a dear friend he works with and is overly attached too (excellent! His parents are so happy he's got someone he's mildly Weird with) and he happily drives the little arsonists around. (Steve's parents don't really meet the kids but know about them, are pleased as punch they all seem like little Addams-Harringtons Steve's taken under his wing. After all, arson, pet monster adopting, car thieving, and spycraft are all delightful pastimes for today's Youth)

But spring break of '86 rolls around and they return to their son in hospital besides another boy, who was apparently accused of serial murder, and discover that the hell dimension is gone for good (and, really, how can the senior Harrington-Addams' have such terrible luck! Missing all the fun once again, and to be told it's all over forever, well. At least their Steve was involved.) They kiss his cheeks and ask if they can get him anything, if his little arsonists are alright. They chat, telling him how little cousin Wednesday is doing and that his uncle Gomez was so thrilled to hear about the flesh monster last year and sends his love.

Eddie is there watching and once they leave he's like Steve....what is going on with your parents. Steve just shrugs.

Slowly, he falls for Eddie, sweet as pie and funny, with just the right amount of...well, freakishness, to settle that place in Steve's heart that's all Addams. Once they get to the stage where Steve introduces him to his parents as his boyfriend, he isn't even nervous about Eddie fitting in. He knows he will even if they live Steve's silly little picket fence and six nugget dream.

Steve's father is delighted by the development. "A murderer in the family!" He yells, which Eddie must interpret as some form of outrage or disgust instead of the delight it is.

He waves his hands in front of him "I didn't actually do it! All charges dropped!"

Steve's father Pat's his back in a consolatory way, "yes, yes. What a shame that is. We can't win them all. But! The reputation persists! And that is what matters. Oh, Priscilla! Gomez and Morticia will be besides themselves with envy!"

Eddie, who wore his most provocative and "fuck society and the man" outfit, on Steve's request which he assumed was to piss of his parents but...really doesn't seem to be the case now... Is. Baffled.

Steve's mother adds "indeed! You'll fit in so well with the rest of the family, dear, no need to worry that you're only an accused murderer. At least without prison time you are free to go where you wish and reap the benefits of a dastardly reputation!"

"I can't believe you didn't introduce us to your boy earlier, Steven. Look at him! Addams-Harrington material already. He even fought in the hell dimension with you!"

"you know about that?"

"of course, what's an NDA to family? We've been trying to join in the fun since the beginning." Says Steve's mother. "We've had such dreadful timing, though. And I'm still terribly annoyed that I wasn't able to give those Russians a torture session of their own!"

Eddie is...well. He doesn't actually know what's going on other than Steve's parents seem to like him? So. A win? He's calling it a win.

#steve Harrington #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington's parents #addams steve Harrington #findaanswers #finda writes stuff #the most addams trait steve has is Being Obsessed With Your Spouse Syndrome #silverseedthings #also to be clear his parents are t4t as many addamses are

[momotonescreaming]

We know that Steve thinks his Dad is an asshole, but he doesn’t really mention his mother other than a few off hand comments. She goes on his Dad’s business trips because she doesn’t trust him not to cheat, she’s well respected in Hawkins, and Steve used her as a reference when he applied for the job at Family Video. So I got to thinking about what if she was a good person also trapped under the pressure of Mr Harrington, just like Steve? What if Steve had a good relationship with her? And this happened

Mrs Harrington who loved her husband once, who had a husband who loved her back. She loved his ambition, his drive, his dedication. She didn’t love it when it started to turn into him spending all hours at the office, at business meetings. When it started to turn into something money hungry. But it was his job. He knew best. Right?

Mrs Harrington has a baby because she wants one. She’s always wanted to be a mother. Mr Harrington has a kid because it’s What You Do. You have a kid so they can take over your company, carry on your family legacy. Uphold the Harrington name. His reputation. A nanny can raise them when they’re little. When they're older they can follow in his footsteps. Popular, likes cars, plays basketball.

Mrs Harrington raises little Steve as much as she can. He’s a little Mama’s boy. She’ll go to the salon to get her hair done and Steve sits in the chair next to hers, driving his toy cars up and down the seat. Steve drags her outside so he can show her this “Really cool swimming trick, Mama!” and she watches him happily from the porch seats, commenting that he swims so well is he sure he’s not part fish? He’ll watch her put her make up on and get ready for a Charity Gala she’s organising. He tells her she’s beautiful, Mama and she’ll run one of her big fluffy make up brushes across his cheeks so he can be beautiful too.

Steve gets older and Mr Harrington takes over in shaping Steve’s life. He’s a man now. A Harrington. Mrs Harrington isn’t quite sure what to do. She thinks her husband might be a bit harsh but he was a teenage boy once, he must know what’s best for him. Right? He’s the man of the family. The head of the household and what he says goes. She isn’t so sure now, but it’s what her father always taught her. It’s what she always learnt in Church. She fawns under his harsh gaze and feels the guilt churning in her gut as she doesn’t know what to do. Steve starts pulling away from her, and her husband keeps flirting with his young secretaries.

It comes to a head in Steve’s senior year when she’s with her husband on a business trip in New York. Her husband’s secretary gets a call that Steve’s in the hospital after getting into a fight with another student - Billy Hargrove. Her husband brushes it off as ‘Boys will be boys’. A Harrington shouldn’t have lost. Maybe this will teach him about consequences. Did he even think about what this could have done to their reputation? He doesn’t tell his wife.

Mrs Harrington is the only one in their hotel room when the secretary calls again with an update from the hospital. She finds out that he knew that their only son was in the hospital and didn’t tell her. It’s the last straw. Her husband comes back to the hotel room smelling of expensive liquor and someone else’s perfume. They get into a screaming match and she packs her bags and calls a taxi. She calls the hospital from the airport that she’s on her way.

She gets the first plane she can and rushes straight to the hospital. The nurse at the reception desk tells her what room he’s in and she tears up as soon as she sees Steve.

“Oh my baby. I’m so sorry.”

Steve locks eyes with her and his eyes water. “Hi Mama.” His voice is quiet.

She rushes over to hug him and his teary eyes turn into violent sobs, her whispering comforting nothings to her baby boy as he cries. She came as soon as she heard, she’s so sorry, he’s okay now. She doesn’t tell him yet that she wasn’t there earlier because her husband didn’t tell her. Her wedding ring feels heavy on her finger.

When Steve is recovering at home, asleep in the other room, she rings a divorce lawyer.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington's parents #Stranger things #Stranger things ficlet #st #my writing #i'm having steve family feels today #idk i just love the idea of mamas boy steve #i imagine his mum looks a lot like him #with a sharp jaw and sharper cheekbones #voluminous brown hair that falls down in perfect waves

[alleiwentcrazy]

“Hey, Steve—”

He stops, placing his feet carefully, all too aware of the added weight strapped to his back. The ax makes him sway slightly—or maybe it’s not the ax, he thinks, turning back. Maybe it’s the weight of Eddie’s gaze crossing with his, maybe it’s the promise of something awful looming over them. Maybe it’s the stench of fear and decay, so prominent here in the world of creatures that want nothing but to destroy.

The moment feels heavy, giving them all another reason to hesitate. They look at each other for a long second, Steve’s gaze curious, Eddie’s skittish and unsure. To see Eddie Munson unsure is so rare even Dustin looks surprised. Steve feels exposed, more exposed than when he was half-naked and everyone could practically see the inside of his body. He desperately needs Robin to reassure him that he’s still there because one more look into Eddie’s eyes and he’ll lose it.

The silence between them seems to stretch into eternity, Eddie’s gaze drops, then he looks back up, and suddenly—

Suddenly Steve’s six again, roaming around the new house his parents bought not too long ago. The house is weird, Steve doesn’t like it. It’s bigger than the other one, looks fancier and Steve has already been instructed not to touch anything and to play only in his own room should he find it necessary. Entering his father’s study is strictly forbidden, so naturally, his mind is set on trying to get inside that room somehow, even if it means getting in trouble. But he has to find it first.

He passes yet another guest room when he catches something with the corner of his eye. His tiny feet carry him to the window, and then immediately outside into his brand new backyard, where in the furthest corner he finds a big, spectacularly green tree with—yes! A treehouse!

He’s so excited, finally having something just for himself in this big, empty house, where he’s not allowed to do anything but breathe and study. He’s up the ladder in no time, using as much force as he has to lift the flap and hoist himself inside.

He looks around and jumps in excitement. It’s perfect. It’s like—like magic, like he has teleported himself into another child’s room. There are stacks of colorful books in the corner, a patched-up blanket on the floor, some toys, some board games, even. Is this place real? He can’t wait to tell his mother how grateful he is for that, he’ll have to give special thanks to his father, too, because his father always says that everything he has is due to their goodwill—

Steve’s startled when he hears the ladder moving again, then he takes a step back when the flap goes flying open and a head full of dark, curly hair appears just next to his feet.

They stare each other down, the intruder’s dark eyes wide in shock, Steve’s in fear mixed with surprise. It’s a boy, probably around his age, but how did he get here?

“Are you… real?” Steve asks, not knowing what else to do.

The boy furrows his brows. “Obviously?”

They stare at each other for a second longer, then something flashes on the boy’s face and he nods to himself like he’s made up his mind. Then he clambers inside and stands in front of Steve. He’s a little bigger, dressed in clean but shabby clothes. His gaze is scrutinizing.

“Why are you here?” he asks, his tone accusatory. Steve wants to take another step back, but his feet are locked in place.

“We’ve moved in today.”

“Oh,” the boy’s face deflates, but his arms are still crossed protectively over his chest. “For good?”

“Uh. Yes?” Steve feels out of his depth. His parents told him that he shouldn’t talk to strangers, but… “Why are you here?”

“There’s a hole in the fence,” the boy shrugs, almost nonchalantly. “It’s my hang-out spot.”

Steve isn’t sure what a hang-out spot is, exactly, but he still nods. Neither of them speaks for a moment, then the boy’s arms drop to his sides and he reaches for the blanket.

“Alright, I’ll get my stuff and—”

“No!” Steve yells, clutching the other end of the blanket and trying to yank it from the boy’s hands. “I mean… We can play together here. These things are cool,” he says, his face getting hot. He’s telling the truth, the things in the treehouse are cool, but also—Steve isn’t allowed to play with other children, not the ones he’d like to play with, anyway. Only the ones his parents choose. This boy is none of those.

He takes a look around, clearly thinking about his options. Then his eyes land on Steve. He looks and he looks, and Steve feels a little like when the teachers his father hires to train him in things he doesn’t really understand ask him questions to which he has no answers.

This time, the outcome of the evaluation, as they like to call it, is positive. The boy drops the blanket.

“And you won’t tell your parents I’ve been here? Ever? You can’t tell.”

“I won’t,” Steve says earnestly, shaking his head. He won’t tell. He really won’t.

The boy looks at him for a while longer and then, seemingly out of nowhere, he smiles. His smile is wide and welcoming, so wide Steve can see the missing tooth in the back of his mouth. “Okay,” he says, simply. He’s so eager to play he immediately starts gathering toys and books. When he reaches for something lying on a high shelf, his tee rides up.

There’s a big, angry bruise on his back.

Steve wants to ask about it, but his parents told him not to pry—

“What’s your name?” he asks instead. The boy whips his head around and furrows his brows at Steve again.

“You sure you won’t tell your parents?” Steve nods. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he replies without hesitation.

“I’m Eddie,” the boy replies, sitting down on the floor and urging Steve to sit down next to him. He complies.

“I’m Steve,” he introduces himself, sitting down somewhat gingerly. The boy grins again and Steve can’t hold back his own smile any longer.

“Nice to meet you, Steve. How much do you know about elves?”

In no time, they become secret best friends. They hang out almost every day throughout the summer, and Steve learns so much about magic and fantastical worlds and creatures he can’t think of anything else. Sometimes they just sit down and draw, sometimes Eddie reads his books out loud, forcing Steve to see how cool they are—Steve’s not too good at reading himself, but he enjoys Eddie’s stories.

Eddie has a knack for making things up. One day, when Steve hoists himself inside in the worst of moods, having heard that he really is and probably will forever be no use in business from his father, Eddie just starts telling him a story Steve’s sure he’s never heard before. Then, next time, Eddie is in the worst of moods, fresh circular marks burned onto his arms, so Steve takes his poster paints and decorates the skin around them to make them prettier—which, sure, not the smartest idea, but it works, Eddie’s laughing, all okay.

When school starts, they keep it a secret. They pretend that they don’t know each other in the corridors, giggling between themselves when no one is around. They still meet up afterward, even in winter—then summer comes and everything’s great again. Steve has a best friend, and they play together and they share secrets together, and his parents can’t do anything about it, because they don’t know.

Steve has a best friend. Until said best friend disappears suddenly during the school year. Without a word. Steve has heard something about his parents, his father, but he’s not allowed to ask questions—he promised not to tell, didn’t he?

He doesn’t ask, but he still hopes. Every day, he climbs up that ladder and waits, waits so long, until the memory of Eddie’s voice gets blurred and distorted, and his smell no longer lingers on the things he left in their treehouse.

Steve gets to see him again when he’s in middle school, freshly moved to Hawkins, not expecting to meet anyone he knows here in the middle of nowhere, Indiana. He’s so surprised on the first day of school—their new house has no treehouse in the backyard, but Eddie is here. It must be Eddie. His hair is buzzed and he looks like he’s had enough of life, but it’s him.

Only, he doesn’t seem to care that it’s Steve. Maybe he doesn’t recognize him? But he does. When their paths cross in the corridor, he stops so suddenly, his eyes go big, just like they did in that treehouse for the first time. He’s just about to smile when Tommy, Steve’s new classmate, appears around the corner, calling out for him, and Eddie’s face turns to steel. Steve remembers his accusatory glare. It’s there.

Eddie turns heel and runs. Steve tries to talk to him again, but it doesn’t work. Tommy hangs around him like a vulture, scaring Eddie away—and besides, is it really Steve’s job to talk to him? He’s not the only one that’s confused, hurt, even.

Oh, it hurts like hell. It was never supposed to happen.

Steve spends a few nights crying over that. Then comes high school, people start calling him King Steve and Eddie looks at him with such disgust it makes Steve want to take a shower whenever their eyes lock in class. Steve’s senior year is torture because he shares it with Eddie, who clearly hates him so much he’d spit on him if he had a chance. Even after Steve’s fall from grace, Eddie doesn’t stop looking at him with anger burning in his eyes.

And he’s almost always looking, while Steve misses him like crazy.

Eddie kinda makes him think that he’s completely unlikeable. That he’s broken and can’t be fixed, can’t befriend anyone—until Robin.

Oh, Robin. Amazing, caring, beautiful, smart, snarky Robin. The relationship he builds with her quickly becomes the most important one in his life. She’s as much a part of him as his hand or heart is. Steve’s not a poet, but he’s sure, really sure that she’s the one thing he didn’t know that was missing in his life—like a part of his soul was wandering somewhere around the universe, lost and unable to come back without help.

What he has with Robin is unique, complete and incomparable. No one understands him the way she does, no one loves him the way she does. Among others, these are the things that make their friendship so unlike any other relationship Steve’s had. Robin isn’t just his friend. Robin is something entirely different, something Steve can’t, for the life of him, put into words.

On rare occasions, though, thinking about her does bring up memories of Eddie. Was it similar with him? No, it wasn’t. But then what was it, exactly?

Steve’s quite successful in pushing those moments away. He is, even when the kids join Eddie’s little nerd club. He is, even when the manhunt starts.

It’s the piece of shattered bottle pressed to his neck that makes him lose it. It’s Eddie’s misery, fear, and the real, tangible danger he’s in. The words he says to Steve along the way (you'd have let me die if Nancy hadn't jumped?). It’s the fact that they still don’t talk, not about things that matter, even though they suddenly have to coexist in a world that wants them destroyed and they have to do everything in their power to stop it. Together.

It’s the fact that Eddie may not make it. Even if they get out of the Vecna situation, will they be able to save Eddie from the people that see him as some kind of evil sent by the heavens to decimate them?

Steve’s worried, so worried. He’s worried about the kids—hell, Max is his top priority. But at the same time, other thoughts float in the back of his mind and he can’t seem to shake them off.

He can’t keep them all safe. Someone has to risk everything, they just don’t know who, exactly. For that, Steve hopes it won’t have to be Eddie. Leaving things unsaid… It will kill him too, eventually.

Steve hopes it won’t have to be Eddie. He hopes. He hopes and hopes, and—

Eddie’s gaze is on him again. Not skittish. Still scared, still unsure, but set, at the same time.

“Make him pay,” he says, a sense of finality overpowering his words.

Steve can’t believe it. He wants to scream, he wants to shake Eddie’s shoulders until he sees some sense. That’s not what you wanted to say! That’s not how it ends! That’s not how we part before possible disaster!

And he’s angry, he’s sad, it hurts like hell, because—what if Eddie doesn't care about him at all? Has he ever cared? Is he supposed to care for both of them? What’s he supposed to do now? Go up there, slap him, yell at him, hold him?

Steve doesn’t know where that last thought comes from. It’s certainly not something he should do at any point.

The eyes of Nancy, Dustin and Robin drill holes into his skull. He’s waiting for too long, hoping that maybe it’ll resolve itself.

Only it won’t. Eddie won’t say anything else. Steve won’t run up there and hold him. Instead, he nods. Eddie nods back, sealing the deal. Steve holds his gaze a little longer – their last chance.

It goes unnoticed. His team sets out and for the sake of them both, Steve is going to hold on to the hope of seeing another day.

#tw mentions of physical abuse #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #make him pay #but my way #alternate meeting #childhood friends #steve harrington's parents #angst #angsty angst even #feelings realization #(only a hint of) #platonic stobin #(but i have to tag and underline the platonic part bc. some people still try to make a ship out of it #*sigh. im tired grandpa can we have the stobin in platonic as the default finally it's been months*) #stranger things #st4 fanfic #steve x eddie #steddie fic #i have so many uni responsibilities. so ofc i spent a big part of my day writing this on a whim lol

[shares-a-vest]

"Are you sure you don't want to just come over to my place?"

Steve bites his lip, contemplating the proposal Robin has offered him several times this week, ever since he'd told her he was having lunch with his parents.

It was Father's Day after all.

His parents would be home for at least a fortnight this time, on a quick stop-over in Hawkins before leaving again, this time for a vacation somewhere. They needed "a break" his mother had said with a laboured sigh, all whistful and longing as if she wasn't making such a statement amidst a lengthy monologue about all the friends they had just caught up with in Indianapolis.

Steve guesses they were technically a business trip. Though his recollections of such trips he'd gone as a kid (back when his parents absolutely had to bring him along) did involve the odd visit to Head Office in between social gatherings that only ever felt vaguely related to his father's business.

He turns away from the wall-mounted phone in the kitchen to look out at the patio. His father is sitting on a lounge chair, drinking a coffee and, low and behold, reading his new copy of The Bourne Supremacy Steve had handed him at breakfast.

His father was impossible to buy for - so a book was always a safe enough choice, one that would at least give him a "thank you" in return with no further commentary or snark.

"Uh..." he hums into the phone as his father turns a page, "Y'know what? Maybe later."

He gasps as his mother opens the back sliding door to the kitchen, the skirt of her yellow patterned kaftan flowing along with her. He turns back to the wall, crowding the phone base.

"Steve?" his mother asks, chuckling, "You're still on the phone!"

It isn't exactly chastising, more amused like Robin's mother gets about the pair of them talking on the phone for a solid hour at a time.

He looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes as his best friend groans at the comment.

"Are you sure?" Robin asks, tone abruptly turning serious, "You know my dad loves you, Steve."

"I'll come by later," he insists, "Promise."

"...Okay..." she sighs before hanging up.

As he mounts the speaker, Steve is greeted with a knowing look from his mother. She is holding a glass of iced tea, fresh ice cubes tinkling away in the tall glass.

"Mom, don't," he whines, hoping to get outside and drive straight into the pool and away from any further conversation.

She holds her free hand up in surrender, tilting her head, "Okay, darling."

"I'm going for a dip," he grumbles before heading out to the pool area.

"Your mother and I are headed over to the Martens soon," his father announces as Steve passes by his reclining form.

His stomach drops and he freezes mid-stride to the outdoor chair he'd designated for his towel.

"What?" he blurts out, practically shouting as he whips around.

His father sets his book in his lap and looks up, shielding his eyes from the sun with his left hand. The sunlight reflects off his shiny watch and directly into Steve's eyes.

He grimaces, quickly mirroring his father.

"But..." he begins, trying to even out his clipped tone, "You said... We... You said we were having lunch here?"

"Your mother didn't tell you?"

"But..." he repeats, his voice catching in his throat a little, "It's Father's Day."

His father stands, stretches and gathers up the beach towel he had propped under his knees.

"We wanted to see them before we headed out."

"You're here for two weeks!" Steve argues, waving his hand as if to capture the presumed time his father has to visit his oldest and most insufferable friend.

"Steve, John and Louise's son is that busy working, he doesn't have time to be sitting around on Father's Day. So, we figured we'd meet them for lunch."

"Um..." he gulps, now blinking away tears.

He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in and out as slowly as his growing anger will allow. The sun feels like it is burning into his bare skin, now, no longer feeling like the calming warmth he had felt when he came out to access the pool earlier.

He opens his eyes to find his father turned towards the back door.

"I'm going to Robin's."

He doesn't wait for an answer as he pushes past his father and back into the kitchen. Thankfully, his mother is nowhere to be seen as he makes a beeline for the laundry room where he'd left his work clothes from yesterday with his car keys still in the pocket of his jeans.

He grabs his Member's Only jacket from the coat rack on the way out. Even though the thing is less than weather-appropriate for a Sunday in June, right now it will suffice...

"Steve!" Robin's dad beams after he opens the front door.

The man is wearing a comically bright shirt, a Hawaiian-style button-up with a primary-coloured geometric pattern and squiggly green swirls. Steve thinks his father would hate it.

"Hi, Mr Buckley," he says, offering a tight-lipped smile as he holds out a store-bought key lime pie.

"Steve, please call me Richard," the man insists, unaware that sharing a name with his own father makes Steve want to fucking scream.

Richard takes a pie with a formal nod, his smile dropping a little as Steve shuffles about on the spot. The man looks him up and down.

Shit.

He'd forgotten about the jacket just as quickly as he had shrugged it on before speeding off in his car. But Richard waves him in with an insistent hand, thankfully not prying any further. It is probably quite obvious he isn't wearing a shirt underneath. The thought makes him itch as he becomes all too aware of the slippery fabric, its lining making the back of his neck prickle with sweat.

"Robin is in her room," Richard whispers as Steve steps inside and remembers his flip-flops too as they scuff on the threshold.

"The pie is from Melvad's, sorry," is all he thinks to say.

Richard gives him a pat on the back, just as Robin begins descending the staircase, wearing a shirt just as loud as her father's, only purple and maroon.

She smiles, though her eyes suggest she is clearly worried.

"Steve's here, darling!" Richard announces, intentionally boisterous for their close proximity.

"Oh, thank god," Robin dry-sobs, making grabby hands for the pie.

But Richard snatches it up, playing a one-sided game of keep-away that Robin doesn't even attempt to buy into. He lowers his hand with a swooping flourish, looking a little disappointed.

"Anything's better than the in-laws' dry fruit pudding," he laughs as they both examine the dessert.

"Come on," Robin says, grabbing Steve's hand and yanking him towards the stairs, "This Father's Day's theme is Richard Buckley-Approved Shirts, I've already got one ready for you. It's yellow. You'll love it."

#istg i'll stop writing steve has bad parents TM at some point... maybe... #but this ficlet is not that time #st: father's day edition #platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #robin buckley's parents #platonic with a capital p #steve harrington's parents #platonic soulmates #stobin fic #stobin 🍨 #harrington family TM