Hi, hello! Welcome to my shiny new master list!
I am still well and truly in the grip of Steddie (and honestly I wouldn't have it any other way) so that's 99.9% of what you'll find here.
Midsummer Nights
Tumblr | AO3
This summer they were eighteen, part of the graduating class of 1999, on the brink of college, and finally old enough to be hired as full fledged counselors with paychecks and days off and everything. Not that it paid much, but Steve wasn’t in it for the money. He was in it for the love of the place. Sunset Lake Camp had become a second home to him over the last decade of his life, his real home, and the people there like family. Robin was mainly in it for Steve.
It was poised to be the best summer of Steve’s life.
Then he met Eddie.
Not (A) Cinderella (Story)
Tumblr | AO3
After his split from Tommy and Carol, and his very public fall from grace, Steve reluctantly agreed to go to his senior prom fully expecting humiliation.
And he couldn't have been more right.
Between misunderstanding what the prom committee meant by “costume ball” and playing third wheel to Nancy and Jonathan—a familiar role these days—Steve was ready to go home early and spend the remaining weeks of his high school career with his head down and what little dignity he had left intact.
But everything changed when he spotted someone else who had taken the word costume a little too literally.
He couldn't tell who his mystery date was beneath the wrappings of "her" mask, but her big brown eyes and wild curly hair were enough to pull him in, and one touch of her hand was all it took for him to fall hard.
They danced. They kissed. Then she was gone, and the only hope he had of finding her again was the chunky silver ring she'd left behind.
Steddie Big Bang 2026
Details to come!
Carver Peak
Buckingham | Mature | WC: 41,086 | Tumblr | AO3
Ye Olde Meet-Cute
Steddie | Explicit | WC: 7994 | Tumblr | AO3
Fuggi Regal Fantasima
Now part of a series: When Shadows Held The World In Place
Steddie | Explicit | WC: 45,860 | Tumblr | AO3
Wild Goose Chase
Steddie | Explicit | WC: 11,288 | Tumblr | AO3
Baby It's Cold Outside
Steddie | Explicit | WC: 9380 | Tumblr | AO3
Forever After
Steddie | Explicit | WC: 11,639 | Tumblr | AO3
Save A Mechanical Bull, Blow A Cowboy
Steddie | Explicit | WC: 4,923 | Tumblr | AO3
Bumpy Ride
Steddie | Explicit | WC: 3,985 | Tumblr | AO3
Whiplash
Steddie | Explicit | WC:7,980 | Tumblr | AO3
Caught in the Undertow
Steddie | Explicit | WC: 51,584 | Tumblr | AO3
Rêver de la Petite Mort
Steddie | Explicit | WC: 2,662 | Tumblr | AO3
Night Terrors & Daydreams
Steddie | Explicit | WC: 7,223 | Tumblr | AO3
Speak Now
Steddie | Mature | WC: 6,150 | Tumblr | AO3
Runner
Steddie | Teen | WC: 3,004 | Tumblr | AO3
Your Dasher is Nearby
Steddie | Explicit | WC: 6,672 | Tumblr | AO3
One Bat Short of a Belfry
Steddie | Gen | WC: 1,017 | Tumblr | AO3
Love, Lies, Bleeding
Steddie | Mature | WC: 2,106 | Tumblr | AO3
It's Only Forever
Steddie | Mature | WC: 43,574 | Tumblr | AO3 | Art by Penny00Dreadful
Me?? Doing Wip Weekend??? Shocking lol. Buuut it is a long weekend in Aus (Thanks for the freebie, King Chucky!) and I have brainworms and the motivation to write. So, for the first time in months, LET'S GOOOO!!
I was tagged by the lovely @machtaholic (also Bex, I am crediting you for giving me some motivation as we have chatted away!)
Reminder of the Rules: Send me an emoji in an ask, and I’ll write 3-5 sentences and/or paragraphs from that WIP! No limits to the amount of emojis you can request.
🏺 Ceramicist/Potter Steve & Tattooist Eddie – Expanding on this idea, Steve opens a studio next to Eddie, cozy romance (and eventual smut) ensues. Very new (like, fresh) so feel free to send through some general thoughts!
💎 Diane Harrington AU – Diane is still rolling around in my brain, embarrassing Steve and being as sassy as ever. As always, I have a bunch of things for this au in the works.
Snippet and tags under the cut <3
A snippet from 💎 (this one I have had gestating in my tumblr drafts for a few weeks, being written line by excruciating line after I got the image of Steve munching on a Peanut Butter Bopper while glowering at his mother from a distance about something lol)
Eddie tiptoes forward, sidling up to his boyfriend, ever curious.
"Steve, what are you doing?"
Steve takes another bite of his treat and sighs.
"Stress eating." Despite mumbling through the side of his mouth, Steve still manages to convey that bitchy lilt.
"I see..."
Eddie moves to step closer, hopefully spot whatever has earned Steve's ire. But the reflection of the morning sun offers nothing but a sharp sting as it obscures his view into Gino's Pizzeria.
"What's got your jeans in a twist?"
"My mom is in there," Steve huffs, "Flirting with Gino."
Tags (ooof, i haven't done this in a hot minute!): @hbyrde36 @kikidoesfanfic @shelleyminx @augustjustice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx
2025-2026 Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang Round Up (1 of 2)
i wrote my heart in a sheet of paper (and i gifted it to you)
Art by @starthecozy | Fic by @ataliagold
Rating: Teens & Up | WC: 8,600
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham
Summary:
"Eddie shuffles closer to him. Knows he shouldn’t, knows he should steer this somewhere neutral, somewhere more distant, something more akin to just checking in on a friend but he can’t, he can’t. Not when Steve’s looking bashful, not when he’s awkwardly picking up a bit of paper again and folding it anxiously, not when he smells like the sea on a summer’s day and honey-sweet all at once.
“Seriously Steve, this is cool. Maybe you could make something for a campaign? Figurines are expensive, and honestly some of these are better. We could paint them, too.”
Steve looks up at him then. Really looks, and Eddie’s heart gallops in his chest at the sight of those warm brown eyes.
“I made them all for you,” Steve murmurs.
In the wake of Vecna's defeat, with his friends busy with the aftermath, Steve takes up origami, tries to heal his scars in his big empty house , and falls in love with the alpha that comes to visit him daily.
Eddie."
Sweet Like Sugar
Art by @lady-lostmind | Fic by @stevesscoops
Rating: Explicit | WC: 3,015
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Summary: After a fight at a club leads to them getting thrown out, Eddie puts Steve in his place and reminds him he’s not going anywhere.
Robin Red Breast
Art by @little-annie | Fic by @starshideyourfics
Rating: Teens & Up | WC: 4340
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Chrissy Cunningham, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham's Parents
Pairing(s): Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham
Summary:
Once upon a time, in a far off kingdom, there lived a beautiful maiden…
Chrissy was born to marry a prince. Her mother prayed daily for a daughter, a babe with rose petal lips and dark lashes, one who would grow up graceful and delicate, lovely enough to catch the eye of the king's son. And when she did, she was locked away in a tower for safekeeping with all she could ever need in her new home.
Everything except companionship.
And she was so lonely until her father brought her a gift.
After This Life, I’ll Find You in the Next
Art by @cxwzkeys| Fic by @anonymustelid
Rating: Mature | WC: 3297
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler
Pairing(s): Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler
Summary: In which Nancy Wheeler, vampire, keeps seeing a familiar face across time...
Ye Olde Meet-Cute
Art by @penny00dreadful | Fic by @hbyrde36
Rating: Explicit | WC: 7994
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, Jeff, Gareth, Freak
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Summary: Eddie had been planning his Ren Faire outfit for weeks. The thrifted poet shirt, the hand-embellished vest, the leather bracers he'd tooled himself. He looked good and he knew it.
What he hadn't planned for was the blacksmith.
Shirtless, sweat-soaked, and hammering molten steel like it was nothing, the man was, without question, the most devastatingly attractive human being Eddie had ever laid eyes on.
Straight boys don't look like that
Art by @nomadic-wolf | Fic by @medusapelagia
Rating: Mature | WC: 9000
Warning(s): Graphic Depictions of Violence
Character(s): Jason Carver, Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, Jason Carver's Parents
Pairing(s): Eddie Munson/Jason Carver
Summary:
Eddie hates that, ever since he started high school, Jason has slowly become a bully. He misses the kid who used to play with him in the church backyard. Even more, he misses the shy boy he once fell in love with.
No matter how much it hurts, it’s too late to go back to how things were. Things are different now, and Eddie can’t wait to finally leave Hawkins and all its bigoted inhabitants behind.
But when Jason drunkenly calls him in the middle of the night, all Eddie can do is answer.
Good Intentions
Art by @hellfireloserclub | Fic by @dame-zoom-a-latte
Rating: Explicit | WC: 29046
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): The Party (Stranger Things), Jonathan Byers, Argyle (Stranger Things), El, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Female OC
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Argyle & Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington & The Party, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Eddie Munson
Summary:
Jonathan is forced to cast Steve for his capstone project -- a movie that's a loose retelling of their Upside Down misadventures.
But while Steve and Eddie are busy flirting (unknowingly) on set, other plots are brewing.
A Very Reasonable Bargain
Art by @droolovacoco | Fic by @yesdangerpls
Rating: Teens and Up | WC: 8871
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson
Summary: The first time newly-minted Knight Harrington attempts to stop the thefts on the southeast road from Loch Nora through Forest Hills, he is… somewhat less successful than he may have hoped, if the dust on his derriere, swollen egg on his forehead, and empty coinpurse on his belt are anything to go by.
Pas de Trois
Art by @mission2mordor | Fic by @beritybaker
Rating: Explicit | WC: 11,867
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Tommy Hagan/Eddie Munson, Tommy Hagan/Steve Harrington
Summary: Eddie performs his senior capstone, and a certain new stagehand has caught his eye. Things would be less complicated if they didn't both have a history with Tommy Hagan.
Friends Who Kill Together Stay Together
Art by tombfiends | Fic by @neuronary
Rating: Explicit | WC: 5502
Warning(s): Graphic Depictions of Violence
Character(s): Robin Buckley; Steve Harrington; Nancy Wheeler; Robin Buckley's Parents; Keith (Stranger Things); Jason Carver; Steve Harrington's Parents; Background & Cameo Characters
Pairing(s): Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington
Summary: Steve and Robin murder some Russians together. And then it spirals. They're having fun, though!
you are that space that's in between
Art by tombfiends | Fic by @turinspeachjam
Rating: Teens and Up | WC: 5968
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Wayne Munson, Henry Creel
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson & Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington & Wayne Munson
Summary:
Steve is awoken to the sounds of someone wandering through his forest. When he tries to send the interloper on their way, he discovers that another human has slipped through right under his nose. Reluctantly, he agrees to help find this missing person, if only so he can get to the bottom of what is hiding in his forest.
---
Eddie doesn't normally go traipsing through the woods, but it was the last place anyone had seen Chrissy, so on he went. He runs into some guy named Steve who insists that there's no way Chrissy could be in the woods. Eddie, not to be deterred by some weirdo with leaves in his hair, insists on completing his mission. Color him surprised when Steve offers to help.
To Keep a Man Awake at Night
Art by @kaspurrcat | Fic by @lovelylittlegrim
Rating: Explicit | WC: 57,843
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, Wayne Munson
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Summary:
“Bada-boom!” Dustin smacks a card down on the table in front of Eddie.
Nose wrinkling, Eddie picks up the card. “What is this?”
“The answer to your problems. It’s a paranormal research club here on campus."
Mike groans. “Dustin, no.”
~
Weird things keep happening in Wayne and Eddie’s new place. Fortunately Dustin knows someone that can help. Unfortunately that someone is Steve Harrington.
Eddie doesn’t know who the bigger skeptic is: Steve, the guy who doesn’t believe in ghosts. Or, Eddie, who doesn’t believe in Steve.
Fit
Art by @nomadic-wolf | Fic by @hullosweetpea
Rating: Teens and Up | WC: 3,026
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler
Pairing(s): Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan and their unusual relationship as an omega/alpha/omega triad.
Lux Animae
Art by @kaspurrcat | Fic by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation
Rating: Mature | WC: 26,847
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Eddie Munson; Steve Harrington; Robin Buckley; Chrissy Cunningham; Jason Carver; Andy Harper; Joyce Byers; Jim Hopper; Principal Higgins; Wayne Munson
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham (background); Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley; Eddie Munson & Chrissy Cunningham
Summary:
They say that, when you meet your match, you feel it.
Sure, a true Lux Animae is a hard-earned thing - a bond that must be forged and shaped and toughened in the fires of battle over and over again, and, if done right, will last a lifetime and longer. Still, many people claim that they sensed it, even long before the ceremony.
It is, after all, the magic that does the choosing, and the magic knows. Knows who is destined to complete you, who will fight and cry and bleed for you and draw out your full potential like no other can. So, when you meet them, you’re supposed to feel it. You just need to know what to look out for.
A tingle, some say. A warm, heavy buzz that fills your veins the moment you lay eyes on each other. An electric spark, zapping through your body like a current upon that first careless touch, letting you know that this is the start of something bigger, something stronger, something more profound than both of you could possibly imagine.
The only thing that Eddie feels when Steve Harrington steps on his foot is pain.
You I Can't Deny
Art by @arelliann | Fic by @ok-peepaw
Rating: Explicit | WC: 42826
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Wayne Munson, Jason Carver
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham & Eddie Munson
Summary: By the time Steve Harrington graduates high school, he and his childhood best friend Eddie have hurt each other beyond repair. All of their good memories have been swept away in one afternoon of screaming, social pressure, and hurt feelings. Years later, when their new best friends start dating, Eddie and Steve reluctantly agree to try to get along for their sake, forced to confront the fact that neither of them are over it. The boys find that being vulnerable is hard, feelings are complicated, and that memory persists longer than they'd like. Can they let go of their pride and acknowledge what they once meant to each other, or are they doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past?
Take My Number, Harrington
Art by @hawkinsleather | Fic by @waldos-writing
Rating: Teens and Up | WC: 5,709
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Original Characters
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Summary: Steve hosted a late night talk show in Chicago in the 90s and on one special evening, they have Corroded Coffin's Eddie Munson as one of the guest stars!
In the worship of the night
Art by @waldos-art | Fic by @queensilber
Rating: Explicit | WC: 4,732
Warning(s): No Warnings Apply
Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Summary: Eddie Munson is stuck in group therapy and it might as well be his own personal hell. Little does he expect the young Pastor Steve Harrington to notice his misery and deciding to turn this night into one of the best of Eddies life.
I've never seen you fall so hard
Art by @justtoomuch | Fic by @salamandergoo
Rating: Teens and Up | WC: 6,051
Warning(s): Creator Chose Not to Use
Character(s): Jonathan Byers, Joyce Byers, Will Byers, Jim “Chief” Hopper, Steve Harrington
Pairing(s): Jonathan Byers & Joyce Byers & Will Byers, Jonathan Byers & Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington
Summary: Jonathan Byers is just trying to get back on his feet after fighting a monster in his own home and recovering his missing brother. Steve Harrington helping with home repairs was not on the agenda
I just wanted to say (I can't get enough of your face)
Art by @lady-lostmind | Fic by @sidekick-hero
Rating: Explicit | WC: 16,070
Warning(s): No Warnings Apply
Character(s): Steve, Eddie, Robin, Vickie, Dustin, Jeff, Gareth, Grant
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley/Vickie (minor)
Summary: Steve and Eddie are both famous musicians. They're also madly in love, but they can't let anyone know. At least, not outside of their trusted group of friends. Steve's public persona has to be straight. And single. Available.
It's fine. Until it isn't, so Steve decides to end the charade. Eddie and him just have to finish their parallel cross-America tours first. Then, they can love each other the way they want: loud and proud.
Or: Steve and Eddie count the days before they can make their love public. That doesn't mean they can't be dorks in love in secret and drive their friends (mostly Robin) crazy.
Just A Love Bite
Art by @lady-lostmind | Fic by @beritybaker
Rating: Explicit | WC: 14,334
Warning(s): No Warnings Apply
Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Summary: Steve gets dragged along to a Corroded Coffin concert. Eddie Munson becomes obsessed with him.
Ain't going backwards, won't ask for space
Art by @all-tea | Fic by @nomadic-wolf
Rating: Teens and Up | WC: 3212
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply
Character(s): Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington
Pairing(s): Jonathan Byerse, Steve Harrington
Summary: Jonathan was honest when he told Steve that he didn’t like him. Really he was. But after saving someone’s life… well it was hard to pretend the animosity was there anymore. It was especially hard to be against Steve while they were actively in flux with the military. There were approximately three days between the upside down blowing up and when they were allowed to leave.
--
The time between the final battle and the finale and how Steve and Jonathan grow closer.
My European Summer (A Guide to Surviving an International Roadtrip with two Losers and the most Beautiful Woman in Italy)
Art by @janie-bean | Fic by @cxwzkeys
Rating: G | WC: 22,697
Warning(s): No Warnings
Character(s): Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Original Female Character
Pairing(s): Robin Buckley x OC, Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson
Summary: Robin Buckley's plans are easy; travel to Paris alongside Steve Harrington. Since before taking the plane, the plans change and keep changing until the end. What seems to be a terrible road trip finishes not only as a road trip of their lives but also as a romance for both of them.
Lavender Thread
Art by @hawkinsleather | Fic by @mugloversonly
Rating: T | WC: 3,170
Warning(s): Graphic Depictions of Violence
Character(s): Eddie Munson Eleven | Jane Hopper Wayne Munson Dustin Henderson Steve Harrington Original Female Character(s) Henry Creel | One | Vecna Chrissy Cunningham
Pairing(s): Eleven | Jane Hopper & Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson, Dustin Henderson & Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson & Original Female Character(s), Henry Creel | One | Vecna & Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham & Eddie Munson
Summary: Every tattoo Eleven's ever had have been done by Eddie.
When he doesn't charge her for the newest one, his receptionist questions why.
The answer is simple really, El saved his life. A free tattoo is the least he can do.
To Be Caught Staring
Art by @nomadic-wolf | Fic by @kallisto-k
Rating: G | WC: 5,993
Warning(s): No Warnings
Character(s): Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington, background Joyce Byers - Character, Background Will Byers - Character
Pairing(s): Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington, Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler - Relationship, past Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler - Relationship
Summary: Jonathan was just trying to survive a TV appearance with his mom and brother. He didn't expect Steve Harrington to be there, and certainly not for him to be watching Jonathan like a hawk. Who knew a couple awkward interactions and dinner invitations could lead to something more?
Your Voice and Mine
Art by @whataboutthefish | Fic by @kayleeofcamelot
Rating: E | WC: 15k
Warning(s): Chose Not to Use
Character(s): Henry Creel, Eddie Munson, Gareth, Jeff, Unnamed Freak (his name is Doug), Chrissy Cunningham, other characters mentioned
Pairing(s): Henry Creel/Eddie Munson; Gareth & Jeff & Eddie Munson & Unnamed Freak, Chrissy Cunningham & Eddie Munson, Background Chrissy/Gareth
Summary: Eddie hates him. With every fiber of his body and every wavy hair on his head he hates him. Henry fucking Creel. Who’s up at the stage of The American Music Awards, accepting the prize that should have been Corroded Coffin’s. And that’s not enough. The man has the audacity to throw shade at them. And Eddie is not someone to take that lightly, so when the opportunity arises, he quips back.
A routine they have perfected over the years their little feud has already been going. And they would have kept going for many years more, if not for the fans of both bands catching on. When the situation escalates and both band leaders are forced to work on a song together for a publicity stunt, the tension between them lights a spark which, in turn, lights a fire.
between home and somewhere far away.
Art by @kaspurrcat | Fic by @thefreakandthehair
Rating: E | WC: 22.8K
Warning(s): No Warnings
Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, The Party (Stranger Things), Background & Cameo Characters
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Chrissy Cunningham/Robin Buckley
Summary: Gym Teacher and Hockey Coach Steve Harrington meets Eddie Munson outside of a Dunkin Donuts. As any New Englander knows, it's the beginning of a beautiful thing.
Just Let Us be Three Tonight
Art by @alicetallula | Fic by @kallisto-k
Rating: G | WC: 4,752
Warning(s): No Warnings
Character(s): Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers, Wayne Munson Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Throuples | Triad Relationships, Slice of Life, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Not Karen Wheeler Friendly, Brief mention of her, House Shopping, Cuddling & Snuggling
Summary: Hopper loves waking up next to his partners when he can, but he can't help thinking sometimes they should take the next step. Still, they've got enough on their plates until a lack of family meals and a dining table prompts him to voice one of his desires.
Following Your Lead
Art by @monologichno | Fic by @tinytalkingtina
Rating: T | WC: 4.7k
Warning(s): No Warnings
Character(s): Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Murray Bauman
Pairing(s): Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson
Summary: Eddie is forced to choreograph a duet with new troupe member Steve Harrington. He's not pleased at having to share the spotlight, but the universe has a surprise in store for both of them.
Don't Look Back
Art by @artgroves | Fic by @jo-harrington
Rating: M | WC: 20k
Warning(s): Major Character Death
Character(s): Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Henry Creel/Vecna
Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham
Summary: Eddie Munson wakes up alone in the Upside Down is given the chance to save Chrissy Cunningham. There's just one catch. (A contemporary retelling of the Myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.)
Unsinkable
Art by @alicetallula | Fic by @medusapelagia
Rating: T | WC: 13k
Warning(s): No Warnings
Character(s): Chrissy Cunningham, Billy Hargrove, Gareth (Stranger Things), Heather Holloway, Original Characters
Summary: The Titanic is the most luxurious ship ever to cross the Atlantic, and having a first-class cabin on its maiden voyage isn’t something Christine Cunningham expected when her aunt told her she was to marry William Hargrove and move to New York.
Billy isn’t thrilled either. His preferences don’t include pretty girls, but if he wants to inherit his father’s fortune, he’ll have to marry Chrissy.
Gareth Emerson doesn’t have these kinds of problems. He’s a musician who boards the Titanic after a lucky hand of cards and soon meets the most intriguing couple he has ever encountered.
The journey might have been pleasant, if it weren’t for the massive iceberg waiting in the middle of the ocean.
Here's a bit of silly cuteness from later in Crush Confessions. (Just who could Steve be dressing up for, I wonder...😉)
“And, what is it, like, a crime if I want to look nice?”
“Harrington, you always look nice.” Even though Eddie sounded exasperated, pink splashed across his cheeks, the sight enough to make Steve beam proudly. “Just color me surprised, you putting in all this extra effort when there's no fair maiden about for you to woo.”
He could not remember what his mother had called him, nor the sound of his father’s voice when he spoke it.
He had only had his original family name for twenty-five years after all.
He had had the name Harrington for hundreds.
Harrington Sr. was not his father.
Harrington Sr. was his sire.
And Harrington was the name given to everyone in the Brood.
Everyone below Harrington Sr.
Steve had been lured. Young, naive, soft and devastatingly pretty. He had been snatched away from his living life, frozen with fear and shock, unable to stop the piercing bite that stole the warmth of living from him.
It had not taken Steve long to learn why he had been taken.
He only counted himself lucky that Harrington Sr. was a jealous and possessive man.
He did not share his prizes with anybody.
And Steve was the most prized.
He was cherished by Harrington Sr. with nothing less than an iron fist for any one of the Brood who also looked upon Steve with desire.
The name Harrington was a mark. It was ownership. Whatever tribes or kingdoms they had belonged to before, whatever names they had worn proudly or disdainfully, no longer mattered. They belonged to the patriarch of the Brood now, with that name.
By the time Steve had been told he was to leave Ireland behind forever and travel to the New World with the Brood, he had already watched Cromwell’s blade strike from England, tearing through the people of his small rural village and beyond like they were nothing more than an inconvenience.
Those that had managed to survive had either fled, or become playthings of the Brood.
Steve had forgotten what it was like to smile because he was happy, not just because his sire demanded it.
He had forgotten what it was like to enjoy, to want, to live despite the fact that it had been years since he had drawn breath.
It was 1688.
The Brood had settled in Pennsylvania.
Despite the dull nothingness that pervaded Steve’s life, that lived in his veins, that told him to keep his head down and any feeling locked away, he was still glad to see that not everyone here thought like him.
The Treaty of Shackamaxon kept hope alive in the human settlement they lived on the outskirts of. It kept the blood happy and bright.
Steve had never been prepared for it.
Or to be more accurate, Steve had not been prepared for him.
Steve had been wandering through the streets, people watching.
He was not hunting, he was just… observing.
It hadn’t been that long ago he had been one of these humans.
But looking at them now, they all seemed so strange.
Like a reflection of himself in a warped mirror.
They were too warm, too loud, too alive. They moved through the muddy streets with passion and intent and purpose and worry. They carried small fleeting joys and stresses that all seemed so fragile. They all burned so quickly and so bright and none seemed to comprehend just how short their lives actually were.
Steve moved through and around them, almost invisible to them, a wolf in sheep's clothing.
He was in a phase of time with his sire where he had been discarded. It happened once or twice a year.
Harrington Sr. had found a new toy to play with and while Steve was still off limits to everyone else, he was also forgotten for a time by his sire.
But the new toy would eventually be tired of and Steve would find himself sitting at the knee of his sire again.
It usually didn’t last long, a few weeks at most.
But during those few weeks, Steve was free.
Harrington Sr. didn’t really care where he went or what he did, his attention was too diverted.
Which allowed Steve his current freedom.
He had already allowed himself a leisurly stroll through the one main road of the town. He wasn’t a stranger here, he’d been seen on the outskirts with his unusual family, as the humans called them, but he was still a slightly uncommon sight.
Steve didn’t mind their looks.
He had just come to the end of the road and was preparing to turn back, head home, to his misery and loneliness when a voice carried over on the wind.
A low voice, deep and soothing.
The voice was singing something in a language Steve didn’t understand.
He was moving before he’d even registered what was happening.
Along the edge of the settlement, at the opposite side the Harringtons resided, was a log cabin, squat and wide, built with oak, chinked with white clay and small stones, wooden roof slats and smoke billowing out of a chimney, barely peeking up over the top of the home.
Something must be cooking.
Steve was sure it would have smelled divine if he had still cared much about such things.
Outside on a hand hewn bench sat a man, who looked like he could be Steve’s age. Or at least the age Steve had been when he had begun this second life.
He had dark curls, sitting unruly and improper down to his shoulders, catching the late evening light as he tilted his head slightly. His deep dark eyes were focused on the mess of cloth in his hand, needle and thread rhythmically moving in, through and out as a large patch was slowly adhered over a ragged tear.
His bottom lip was bitten into, teeth indenting the plump flesh in an almost obscene manner.
There was something completely unguarded about him. Something bright and beautiful that had refused to bend to the harshness of the world.
Steve spoke before he thought it best not to.
“What language is that?”
He asked the question as Béarla, curiosity oozing out of him, hoping beyond hope this man spoke it as well. Though every time he used the language, something ugly twisted in his gut. Unfortunately, in this New World where every second person spoke a different tongue, English had become the communal language.
The man startled, looked up, dark eyes wide with surprise before a slow and horrifyingly charming grin slipped over his lips.
“Svenska, sötnos.” He lowered his sewing to his lap, his head tilting a little as he took all of Steve in. “What accent is yours?”
“Gaeilge.”
“Hm.” The sewing was moved onto the bench and the man stood, only a few steps taken up his dirt path and he was in front of Steve, of a height with him and eyes so dark and deep, even more so up close, Steve was lost. “I don’t know what that is.”
“Irish. Éire. Ireland.”
“Oh.” The man grinned, eyes roaming over Steve’s face, drinking him up. “I don’t know anything of Ireland. But I’d happily let you tell me.” His own accent was thick, stumbling with difficulty around the English words, similar but different to how Steve was also stumbling.
“What’s Svenska?” Steve asked, his voice steadily lowering with the setting sun and their increased closeness.
“Swedish, darling boy. Know anything of it?” The mans grin was magnetic, completely enrapturing. Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Nothing.”
“Would you like to?”
Steve should leave.
He should turn around and never look back.
This was dangerous.
The way this man was looking at him was dangerous, the way Steve’s once alive heart was responding was dangerous.
The way Steve knew deep down in his bones that he would not be leaving was dangerous.
“Yes.” Steve answered, almost on a whisper.
The man placed his hand on Steve’s bicep. The feeling seared through him like a brand, hot and dangerous again, but nothing like how Steve had previously been branded.
“It’s dark out.” The man said, gesturing back to his log cabin, lit up with a warm yellow glow on the inside. “Too dangerous to be out at night.” It was true the way back that Steve had come was now an all consuming dark. Light sucked up by the woods and the night sky, the moon barely providing light to see by and the few scattered lanterns from inside people’s homes doing nothing to beat it back.
“You should stay. At least until daylight. Safer that way.”
The night was not dangerous to Steve.
He would have been able to make his way home silently with his eyes closed.
But none of that stopped him from bringing a hand up, to gently brush a curl away from the mans face and responding with a smile of his own.
“Okay.”
Steve learned many things that night.
He learned that the enchanting man’s name was Eddie. He had come to the New World alone after the death of his mother in his homeland.
He learned that Eddie traded his skills rather than coin more often than not.
Mending, tailoring, small repairs. Or large laborious tasks that left his hands hard, scarred and calloused. Hewing logs, chopping trees, hauling timber with a determined stubbornness that seemed to live within his very bones. In return, he received eggs, meat, tools, sometimes nothing more than goodwill and a promise.
There was nothing delicate about Eddie Munson. He was brash, opinionated, stubborn, hard headed and so passionate.
And even so, he handled things gently.
The cloth he was sewing, the fire he was stoking, the strange and small creatures of this land that occasionally found their way inside his home.
He did not crush what was fragile.
He protected it.
He learned that Eddie did not look away.
Not when Steve stilled too long. Not when something in his expression slipped, just for a moment, into something colder. Stranger.
Eddie noticed.
Steve knew he did.
But he did not recoil.
And he did not press.
He learned that Eddie was not unfamiliar with strange creatures that lived outside humanity. According to him, his homeland was full of them. In the forests, in the lakes, in the mountains.
He didn’t know what Steve was.
But he wasn’t scared of him.
And then…
He learned that Eddie tasted like blackberries.
The touch of Eddie’s lips to his shocked something so deep and so primal in him, it almost felt like his heart had started beating again.
Like something long dead inside him had remembered what it was to want, to feel, to exist beyond survival. To be more than an object. But to be his own person who felt those things in return too.
It was intoxicating, it was invigorating.
And it was so, so dangerous.
They did not get long.
Barely a few months, but long enough for a deep and unshakable love to settle in Steve’s heart, grow roots, hold firm and never be moved.
Harrington Sr. found out.
Because of course he did.
Steve had gotten sloppy.
Careless.
He’d hesitated one too many times before coming to rest at his sire’s side.
He’d smiled when there was no need to, but he couldn’t help it.
Eddie lived in his thoughts constantly and Steve was unable to stop the way he made him feel.
He should have seen it coming.
He wouldn’t know it until later, but he had been followed that last time.
It was afterwards, when Steve had been leaving, that he had been set upon.
He had been incandescently happy, something dangerously close to light spilling through him, his chest full in a way that felt unfamiliar and overwhelming all at once.
His guard was down.
He did not hear them approach.
Did not sense them until it was far too late.
The hands of his Broodmates clamped around his arms and his mouth.
Much like when he had his living life taken from him all those years ago, Steve froze up at the sound of Eddie.
Eddie shouting.
Loud.
Furious.
Alive.
The sound tore through the night, sharp and unrestrained, echoing off the trees and the cabin walls. Steve’s head jerked, instinct dragging his gaze toward him despite the hands holding him fast.
Eddie was pulled fighting outside of the warmth of his cabin.
Kicking, twisting, growling like something feral and unafraid, raising holy hell as he tried to break free of the two that held him.
Steve felt terror clog his throat, his fingertips tingled with numb fear, his eyes began to sting, his body flashing ice cold in an instant.
It was useless.
Eddie’s fire, fighting back.
It was completely useless.
Eddie’s boots connected with shins and his captors didn’t flinch, barely feeling it.
He tried to pull himself free with sudden wrenching force, left, then right.
But his arms were held tight, out wide at either side of him.
“Vad i helvete är det här? Släpp mig, era idioter! Vilka i helvete tror ni att ni är?” He spat, teeth bared in a snarl that faltered the minute he caught sight of Steve.
“Stevie?” He said, almost shocked, taking everything in and then kicking out again with renewed vigour. “Sötnos! Steve! Get your hands of him!”
Steve could only shake his head, barely able to see what was in front of him though his blurred vision.
They'd never let him go. It was foolish of him to dream, to hope, to even think that he could have something outside his Brood. Something bright and beautiful of his own.
He’d been so fucking foolish.
All for a hope and a dream of love.
And look at where Steve’s foolishness had led them.
Something around the Brood circle shifted.
A ripple of energy.
And it only took Steve a second to recognise why.
“Steven, darling pet.” Came that awful sharp voice. “You’ve grown selfish. Did you pick a meal for yourself without my permission?”
“No.” Steve shook his head so vigorously, he rocked his captors on either side of him, his tears being flung from his eyes by the movement.
“No… that’s not- No, I wasn’t-” Steve babbled, almost frantic. “Don't hurt him, please.” He leaned forward as much as he could, wide imploring eyes on Harrington Sr. Hoping, praying that if he could inspire just this one instance of sympathy…
Steve would do anything in his power to stop what he knew was about to happen from happening. Even if that meant turning the big baby doe eyes on, up at Harrington Sr. despite the shiver it sent through him.
“I'll come back with you. I’ll never leave your side again, I promise. Just please let him go.”
He could hear Eddie kicking and screaming in front of him, trying to wrench himself free, trying to understand just what Steve was trying to say but it was all muffled.
To Steve, it was all fading into the background, all of his energy focusing on his sire, trying to get him to relent, even though it was a fools errand.
Eddie was brought back into sharp relief, however, when Harrington Sr. gave Steve a sad, condescending shake of the head and slowly circled his way around, until he was standing behind him, a long bony hand running through dark curls.
“Oh Steven.” He hissed out, fist tightening unforgiving and harsh when Eddie tried to wrench his head away, still spitting and fighting. “We're way past that. What you have done, cannot be undone. You have betrayed your Brood.” With an extremely harsh pull, Harrington Sr. dragged Eddie’s head to the side and pulling him upwards until they were standing, one in front of the other, one hand in Eddie’s hair, another around his waist, almost in an embrace.
“An example must be made.”
In a flash, he had sunk large, cruel sharp teeth into Eddie’s neck, messy and deliberately painful, blood spurting out, coating the two of them.
Eddie froze up in pain, his entire body going rigid, unable to even allow a cry of pain out before the strength began to leave him.
His once pale skin became even paler, his eyes, which had held Steve’s, almost imploringly telling him all would be okay, had now begun to roll, only until the whites were visible, his body was slackening and Steve was screaming.
An animalistic howl, a wounded creature, begging his sire to stop, begging the others of his Brood to step in, to help, to do something.
But none of them moved.
This viciousness…
This spectacle.
It wasn’t unheard of.
Harrington Sr. raised his head, mouth coated with blood.
Eddie stayed limp and still in his gasp, grey and… lifeless.
Steve could only stare, his cheeks wet, his chest heaving, eyes following in shock as, Eddie’s body was unceremoniously tossed, thrown behind like a limp ragdoll, to one of the lower of the Brood, a sad eyed bald man who stumbled from shock, but caught him still, and held him delicately.
“Get rid of that.” Harrington Sr. snapped back at him, loosening a silk and lace handkerchief from his pocket and beginning to delicately dab away at the blood around his mouth, dark red seeping into snow white lace.
The bald man swallowed, arms tightening instinctively around Eddie’s limp body. For a moment, just a moment, he hesitated. Steve was too far gone to understand why, he didn’t care, he wasn’t sure he was even capable of caring anymore.
Something in him had…
Snapped.
Clean through.
The mans eyes flickered down to Eddie’s slack face in his grasp, to the blood still seeping sluggishly from the torn throat, to the curls matted dark and wet.
“Yes, sir,” he nodded quietly.
Steve watched, almost stone still, his body was dead to him, his mind was broken and he could barely hear anything around him.
He watched Eddie’s body carried away, out of sight, to somewhere else, he didn’t know where.
Steve continued to stare after him, long after he couldn’t see him anymore, unaware of anything else going on around him.
A hand grabbed his chin and wrenched his head around.
“Are you listening to me, you insolent little child?”
The words were spat into his face by the man Steve had once feared.
But Steve was different now.
He was barely Steve anymore.
He was now just a cold hard shell of something in a humanoid shape.
He looked up at his sire, eyes dead and emotionless.
What followed next, Steve couldn’t exactly say.
He didn’t really remember it.
It was all hazy and distorted.
But he remembered moments.
Almost like picture snapshots.
He remembered his Broodmates howling in shock.
He remembered the overpowering scent of blood drowning the ground below.
He remembered the feeling of his teeth, his nails, his fingers tearing into flesh.
He remembered the long silver of Harrington Sr.’s hair, tied neatly back with a velvet ribbon, cascading across the bloody grass below. Head on one end of the grass, the rest of him on the other.
There were body parts too.
Too many to belong to one person.
Arms, heads, legs, torsos.
All scattered around like sown seeds.
When all was said and done, only three from the Brood still stood in front of him.
Steve, inadvertently, by attacking the head of the Brood, had challenged him for authority.
And won.
But he didn’t care.
The rest of the Brood could throw themselves onto a fire for all he cared.
The only thing in his entire life that he had ever cared about was dead now.
The Harrington name could die with him.
But then a thought came, as he slowly crossed the garden into Eddie’s log cabin, plucking his clothes from the small chest at the end of the bed, his mind almost detached from his body, his heart, shrivelled up and cold.
He thought that his sire would despise nothing more than the Harrington name living on, Broodless, destitute and humiliated. Attached to someone he had seen as nothing more than a plaything.
Steve would keep the name.
It was his right now, but he would not use it.
He would allow it to fall into obscurity.
He would wear it only as a reminder to himself of what had happened on this day.
Steve walked back through the village, blood dripping from him, following his every step.
The villagers closed their doors and windows, crossed themselves as he passed, but he didn’t give them a glance in return.
He didn’t care about them.
The river was his only objective.
Wash the blood of the Brood away before he dressed himself in Eddie’s clothes.
He didn’t know how much time had passed since Eddie’s body had left his sight.
It was too late at this stage anyway.
Eddie was gone.
He couldn’t be brought back.
Steve would never see him again.
The streets were damp, the smell of wet pavement scattering up from the ground as the rain fell.
Steve and Robin should probably get back home soon, or they would have to pretend to be sick in a few days from the damp.
“At least that would provide us both the opportunity to-”
Steve stopped dead in his tracks.
He had seen it, in the distance, moving through the crowd with practiced ease.
An unruly mop of curly brown hair.
Too long and too unrestrained to be polite.
A sight like that always shocked him, though he had seen it plenty of times before.
The man turned his head slightly and Steve could make out the jut of a chin, the curve of a jaw, a devastating dimple cutting into his cheek as he smiled.
“No…” Steve whispered.
He was vaguely aware of Robin’s hand trapped in his arm, of her calling out to him, but he couldn’t hear her through the muffled ringing in his ears.
Something inside of him…
Something that he had though was long broken.
Something shriveled up and withered.
That something inside of him lurched back to life.
Violently.
The man’s smile grew and out of his mouth barked a laugh so warm and jovial and achingly familiar that Steve felt it like a punch to the chest.
If he had been a mere human, he wouldn’t have been able to hear it so far away.
But it was a sound that had lived in the back of his mind for centuries now.
“It can’t be…” Steve muttered.
He was moving before he’d even recognised what he was doing, leaving Robin alone on the pavement and pushing his way through the crowd.
The only sound that was in his ears was a rush of something that would have been blood, maybe breath when he was alive, but now was just the dull roar of the wind passing him by as he fought to get as close as possible as he could.
The dark head of curls bobbed ahead of him, vanishing and reappearing between hats and umbrellas, always just far enough away.
Too far.
Too too far.
No.
He didn’t care anymore.
He saw the figure wave goodbye to the human he had been speaking to as she ascended the stairs to an impressive townhouse, but the man never turned to look behind him, despite the intensity of Steve’s gaze on the back of his head.
The man moved on, continuing further away.
Steve didn’t care if the humans around him noticed something unnatural in his stride, something unsettling in his singular focus and his ability to weave through them.
He didn’t care.
He had to get close enough to be sure.
Almost in a second the crowd seemed to clear.
Steve followed the figure around a corner onto an empty street, the rain was coming down heavy enough to give the street gas lamps a hazy look, their reflections dancing in the puddles below.
Townhouses lined the empty street to Steve’s left and just up ahead, too far away, his dark curls just turning the far corner and disappearing from sight.
The sound escaped him, ripped directly from his heart before he even knew he was speaking.
“Eddie! Mo chroí!”
The world around him seemed to stop, to hold its breath in anticipation, everything silent an unmoving in the echo of Steve’s words.
Then.
Footsteps.
Running.
Fast. Uncontrolled. Coming back the way they had gone.
Steve barely had time to draw breath he did not need before the figure burst back around the corner, coat flaring, curls wild and damp, energy electric as though he’d run for his life.
Steve nearly collapsed in on himself.
Because it was Eddie.
He looked almost the very same as he had the last time they had spent the night together in happiness.
But aside from all of that, he was looking back as Steve with recognition.
“Sötnos…” Eddie’s mouth moved around the sound, so quiet Steve couldn’t hear it, but he knew the shape of it by heart.
He didn’t remember Eddie crossing the distance between them, all he knew was that one moment he was standing at the opposite corner and the next, Eddie had thrown himself at Steve.
The impact rocked him back a step as Eddie jumped, wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist, his arms around his neck and crushing him so tight in a hug, the breath would have been driven from him, had there been any left in his lungs.
Steve hugged him back, just as tight, feeling the lack of a heartbeat under his hands, the lack of breath in Eddie’s lungs, but he didn’t care.
He didn’t care that Eddie wasn’t alive anymore, that Eddie was like him.
He didn’t care, because he had him back.
Eddie loosened his arms and pulled back, but only enough to take in all of Steve’s face, his eyes full of desperate hope and heartbreak and unfathomable joy.
It lasted just a fleeting second before something within Eddie seemed to break.
The sudden and urgent press of Eddie’s lips against his was like finally being able to breathe again. It felt like coming home. It was as if a wave had crashed over him, filling him with light from the inside out, the very blood inside him sparkling, his stomach swooping.
Steve made a horrible broken sound against his mouth, almost like a whimper, something vulnerable in a way he hadn’t allowed himself for centuries.
Eddie still tasted like blackberries.
Steve kept one hand firmly clasped under Eddie, holding him close and tight to him, though Eddie’s legs wrapped fast around his hips would probably have been enough to hold him up on their own, Steve didn’t want to take the risk of creating even a fraction of space between them.
With his free hand he threaded it through Eddie’s beautiful hair, cradling the back of his skull and holding him as close as possible, slipping his tongue into his mouth.
He didn’t know how long they went on like that, all that he knew was that Eddie was making the most delicious noises Steve had ever heard.
The rain continued to pour down around them, soaking the two of them through but they didn’t care.
Neither of them felt it anyway.
“I've been looking…” Eddie swallowed when they finally pulled away from each other, any trace of the accent Steve had known so well on him was gone completely. “I've been searching for you for so long… and you're finally here.” Eddie grinned at him, hands on either side of Steve’s face, thumbs stroking his cheeks. “I can't believe it.”
His tone was almost reverent.
Eddie didn’t look a day older than the last time they had seen each other. His eyes were just as deep and dark, shifting in the flickering gas light and rain, like gemstones glittering with so much feeling. His skin was pale and whole and supple, his lips were pink and plump and as inviting as Steve had ever seen them.
It was torture to tear his eyes away from those lips, but…
“You've been looking for me?” He asked, meeting his eyes again.
It wasn’t the question he had intended to ask, but it was the question that had come out of his mouth, difficult and cracked around a painful tightness in his throat.
Eddie continued to look at him like he was a dream made manifest, eyes and fingers tracing over every part of Steve’s face.
“I had a lot of help. People I know in different cities. Chrissy she…” Eddie swallowed, took a deep breath. “She told me a young couple had moved here. A strange young couple. I didn't dare to hope, especially at the news of a pretty Mrs. Harrington but… she encouraged me to try-”
“Eddie.” Steve cut in immediately because he could not, would not allow him to go on believing Steve was anything less than devoted to him for the intervening centuries between their meetings. “Robin is not my wife. In name, yes, she is, but that is for her protection only. She is my companion but we are nothing more than friends. She is my best friend. The sister I never had. But we are not lovers. She is…” Steve squeezed Eddie a little tighter. “She is like us.”
Eddie smiled in response, almost a serene calm thing, his fingers gently touching each of Steve’s moles.
Steve had to swallow, the lump in his throat getting tighter and he knew he needed to ask the hard question.
“Eddie… how are you here?” He asked, it almost hurt to do so and his voice cracked when he next said; “I saw you die.”
Eddie just nodded, his eyes a little sad.
“But I wasn't completely dead. Your sire in his arrogance assumed Wayne would do what was asked of him, either dispose of me so I was definitely dead, or get greedy and finish me off himself and then dump me. But Wayne is… one of the best men I know. He took pity on me. He knew no physician would be able to save me. So he saved me himself. He sired me and left your Brood almost in the same moment.
“It took a couple of weeks for me to come back to myself, to fight back the delirious fever and find my way back to my cabin. But when I got there, you were long gone. The village had deserted. Apparently they believed the place cursed.
“So I began my search, with Wayne at my side. He left the name Harrington behind. Took my name, Munson. We are not a Brood. We're just… family.”
Something loosened, unspooled inside Steve’s chest, something that had been wound tight this entire time, something slowly closing around his heart, Steve could now feel it falling away like loose thread.
Eddie wasn’t under the cruel leadership of someone like Steve’s old sire.
He wasn’t owned.
He was free and loved and appreciated.
He had friends and family and Eddie had been looking for him.
Steve let out a sigh of relief.
“I’m so glad you had someone with you to keep you company. Wayne and Chrissy…” Steve frowned, thinking for a moment. “What's Chrissy’s last name?”
“Cunningham.” Eddie answered with a smile, still wrapped around Steve. “You've probably heard of her around town.”
Steve knew immediately who he was talking about.
“Yes, I have.” He nodded. “She's very well respected for a widowed woman. Robin is… intrigued.”
Eddie chuckled to himself, nuzzling his nose along Steve’s cheek.
“She is, is she? Interesting.”
“Is Chrissy like us?” Steve asked, finally setting Eddie down on the ground. Eddie had starting to trace his lips along Steve’s jaw and, though it may have been centuries, Steve still remembered how… persuasive he could be, inside or outdoors.
And Steve did not want to have to eat a constable to avoid a public indecency fine.
Eddie pouted a little at being put down but was happy enough when Steve kept him held close.
“No. Not yet anyway. She wants to stay human a little while longer to enjoy the things she couldn’t when she was living under her mothers roof and then her late husbands roof.” Eddie made a disgusted face. “He tasted like cheap gin and anchovies.”
Steve grinned. “Robin’s husband tasted like boiled cabbage.”
Eddie grinned right back at him.
“There’s definitely stories to swap there.”
Steve took Eddie’s hand in his.
“Definitely. Come on,” he said, smile splitting his face, feeling happier than he could ever remember, “I’m taking you home.”
AO3
As always, my biggest thanks and much love to @hbyrde36 for the beta work with this and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation! And a happy birthday to @hitlikehammers
Rules: Send me an emoji in an ask, and I’ll write 3-5 sentences and/or paragraphs from that WIP. No limits to the amount of emojis you can request, please feel free to send multiple!
I was tagged by @tinytalkingtina; thanks so much, friend!!! 💛🖤💛
Long time no see! I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing now that I'm going to have more free time on my hands, so I've got quite a few options here to try and get the creative juices flowing:
🔄️- you wanna feel how it feels Ch. 7 - Steddie bodyswap fic
🧠- Tangled Together ‘verse - Steddie bodysharing fic series
💥 - Pre-S4 Steddie as the kids divorced dads
💞 - Crush Confessions Ch. 2
🎓- take me home tonight -a 'party the night before graduation' fic, Steddie with some background Ronance
🍦- Summer of '86 fic, inspired by Conan Gray's "This Song"
⏳- S1!Steve time travels to the future
🧢- post-S5 Kas fic
❓- mystery fic; I'm keeping the idea for this one under wraps, so if you request it, I'll give you a snippet from another fic that you request or at random
Tags and a snippet from the next Steddie bodyswap chapter below the cut:
Being up close and personal was clearly bringing certain things to his attention, too. In an abrupt, cartoonish show of shock, Eddie widened Steve’s eyes, the pair of them going big and round and so, so hazel in the early morning light.
He still looks like a total Bambi, Steve thought affectionately.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eddie flailed, arms pinwheeling through the air before he finally pointed an accusatory finger at the top of Steve’s head, “What the hell’d you do to m–to your hair?”
It was Steve’s turn to preen, his smile smug. Fluffing the curls with one hand, he tossed Eddie’s hair back and forth, biting back a giggle as the metalhead gaped at him.
Man, that really was as fun as girls always made it look.
“What do you think? Cuz, I gotta say…personally, I think your advice worked like a charm. I mean,” his grin turned cocky, “you are the hair care master, after all.”
Eddie spluttered in disbelief. “Christ alive, man! Like that, I–you look like some kind of uh, uh–well-groomed, yappy little lap dog!”
Mr. Munson snorted, covering up the sound quickly with a cough–although, given the coffee he’d been sipping, maybe it was only partially an act.
This time, Steve was the one gasping in outrage. “Uh, I so do not! The curls totally look pretty like this!”
Eddie’s borrowed cheeks flushed a deep crimson–whether from anger, or embarrassment, or even bashfulness, it was hard to say.
I am no pressure tagging a few folks (and the ST writing server of course):
@strangerthingswritersguild @swishyclang @helpimstuckposting @turinspeachjam @hbyrde36 @yesdangerpls @battythejester @shelleyminx @madcapromantic @onirislanding @allsteddie @fuctacles @literatiruinedme @after-the-end-times @stars-of-nixie @arcanemoody and anyone else who sees this and would like to join!
shut up i know this is late and i'm super duper behing on my fic recs. but better late than never — allegedly — so here you are.
(ps. jsyk i'm probably gonna lump january—april/may? recs into one post with no screenshots though cos it would be too much to take & add that many screenshots or make that many posts.)
✂️ ✂️ 24 STRANGER THINGS FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS UNDER THE CUT (mostly steddie but also a couple of bylers) ✂️ ✂️
Cream For Your Coffee
by @steddiehands86
steddie | explicit | 46,889 words
(omegaverse coffee shop au with actor!steve and much misunderstanding)
(yeah i drew art for this)
Crawling Back To You (Cause I Always Do)
by @lexirosewrites
steddie | explicit | 9,230 words
(omegaverse s5 rewrite with kas!eddie in the upside down and mpreg)
A quiet I keep on keeping
by ethereal_queer
steddie | teen & up | 22,133 words
(robin & eddie fake date and steve has realisations)
wild, wild horses (couldn't drag me away)
by @ro15in
steddie | explicit | 27,425 words
(rockstar eddie x florist steve)
You are the best thing that’s ever been mine
by @psychotic-fangirl369
byler | teen & up | 3,832 words
(mike has a sexuality crisis cos will keeps complimenting him)
[podfic] Shipwrecked in the '80s (Still Adrift in the '90s)
by @hullomoon
steddie | explicit | 2:56:59
Shipwrecked in the '80s (Still Adrift in the '90s)
by @thisapplepielife
steddie | explicit | 27,250 words
(second chance romance 10 years after they broke up)
I'll Keep the King
by @kikidoesfanfic
steddie | teen & up | 35,766 words
(hellfire adopts steve)
you haven't got a prayer
by @emchant3d, @inflomora-art
steddie | explicit | 3,012 words
(omegaverse, cnc stuck in a wall roleplay)
Dirty Decaf Chai
by @loudsnapdragon
steddie | teen & up | 36,729 words
(annoying orders coffeeshop au)
Pirin Tablets at The Ruby Slipper
by @tedewitt
steddie | explicit | 30,900 words
(birdcage au with drag queen!eddie)
(i was the steddie bang artist for this one)
How Will You Know If You Found Me At Last?
by DiscoSuperFly
steddie | explicit | 38,823 words
(tattoo artist!steve x professor eddie romcom)
you took my heart (i was sleeping)
by lameparties
byler | teen & up | 52,625 words
(power outage bed sharing)
Baby It's Cold Outside
by @hbyrde36
steddie | explicit | 9,380 words
(eddie saves steve in a snowstorm meetcute)
downpour by djo_slut
eddie x gareth | explicit | 3,590 words
Please don’t hate me by djo_slut
eddie x gareth | explicit | 4,024 words
(trans gareth, underage, dubious consent)
either on or off the drugs
by @greatunironic
steddie | explicit | 9,660 words
Do I Look As Hungry As I Feel
by thoroughlycomposed
steddie | teen & up | 20,727 words
(BETA STEVE — i needed this for beta representation)
To Save A Metalhead
by @novacorpsrecruit
steddie | teen & up | 13,717 words
(time travel kid fic)
Black Gloves and A Tank Top
by @eddywoww
steddie | explicit | 8,248 words
(omegaverse, tattoo artist!eddie)
These Boots Are Gonna Walk All Over You
by @itcanbepalped
steddie | mature | 2,626 words
(crocs saga, foot fetish)
Christmas Magic (Grown Your Own Boyfriend)
by @machtaholic
steddie | general audiences | 981 words
(grow your own boyfriend!steve)
Salt and Sweet: Halotherapy
by Anaxarete
steddie | explicit | 77,840 words
(recent widower baker!steve x author!eddie, grief, ptsd)
and i'm gonna keep on loving you
by @ataliagold
steddie | teen & up | 3,906 words
(kas!eddie stuck in the upside down at WSQK station)
will byers’ guide to advanced concepts in painting
by falloutboi
byler | mature | 18,435 words
(college au, mike models for art student!will)
may prompt: door | wc: 599 | rated: G | tags: Robin & Steve & Eddie friendship, pre Steddie, Eddie has a crush on Steve, he doesn't know it's mutual, chivarly isn't dead, open ending but the "to lovers" is heavily implied | also on ao3
Out of all things Eddie has learned about Steve since the start of their unlikely friendship, finding out he’s an ally was probably the biggest surprise.
And much like Steve’s shamelessly open interest in Eddie’s love life, it is both blessing and curse. Because it’s nice not to have to pretend in his presence, but it also makes pining in secret a lot harder. Especially when they’re sharing drinks and dreams in close proximity, because tipsy Steve gets touchy and tipsy Eddie has a loose tongue.
Thankfully, Robin is there as a distraction.
"So, like. When two girls are dating, who's doing all the guy things?"
The question catches both Robin and Eddie off guard.
"What do you mean guy things? There's no guy involved, Steve. I thought you knew that by now." Robin sounds almost offended if not for the slightly mocking undertone in her voice.
Steve rolls his eyes and huffs, "I know that! I'm not stupid. I just mean, you know, the things guys usually do. Like holding the door and paying for dinner and stuff."
Eddie wants to laugh but Steve doesn't seem to be joking.
"Oh, Stevie.” The nickname slips out accidentally but Eddie can't help it, not when confusion looks so fucking cute on Steve.
"It might be news to you but those things are not assigned to any particular gender. If you like someone and want to show them they're special, you just do it. Doesn't matter if you're a guy or a girl."
Steve contemplates Eddie's words before letting out a heavy sigh.
"No one ever offered to hold the door for me. Or pay for dinner. Or pick me up for a date."
Eddie doesn't need Steve to spell it out; he knows what he's thinking. That he's not special enough to be treated like that, to have someone care for him like he cares for others.
It's heart-breaking and he can’t let it stand like that.
"I would," he says before he can stop himself. "I mean, uh, if we were dating."
He can feel heat creeping into his face, can feel Robin staring holes into the side of his head, but none of it matters when Steve looks up at him with sparkling eyes and a soft smile, asking almost hopeful, "You would?"
"Mhm," Eddie continues, doesn't care how stupid it is, how dangerously honest and revealing, giving away too much of the feelings that are supposed to stay locked inside.
"I would pick you up with a bouquet of sunflowers because I know they're your favourite. We would go to that Italian restaurant you like, reservation and all."
He can see it all clearly before his mind's eye; it's not the first time Eddie imagines it, but the first time he says it out loud.
"I’d hold the door open for you and pull out your chair and later, after dinner, we could stop at Lover's Lake and I’d get out a blanket so we could lay there and watch the stars for a while before I take you back home and walk you to your door and-"
He's out of breath before he can finish his train of thoughts, thankfully, because he already said too much.
It's all make-believe anyway, Steve would never-
"Kiss me?"
Eddie blinks a few times, unsure if he's heard that right.
"What?"
"Will you kiss me goodnight?"
Steve says will, not would. Like it's not hypothetical anymore but an open invitation for Eddie to make a move.
Rules: Send me an emoji in an ask, and I'll write 3-5 sentences and/or paragraphs from a WIP. No limits to the amount of asks you can send, please feel free to send multiple!
So apparently the last time I did one of these was in January...yeah that tracks. My family members are still recovering from major injuries or actively undergoing treatments, but there is one other major reason I haven't been doing much work lately: my body is busy growing a baby! (To quote my boss when I broke the latest news to her: "Wow, you're really speed running all the life events this year aren't you?") Now that I'm in the second trimester though I have gotten a lot of energy back, so we're going to give WIP Weekend a shot again!
👀 Participating in the Steddie Bing Bang again this year! Since I can't share any snippets, anyone who sends emojis in for this will receive bespoke porn because I still need to answer almost all of the prompts from my 69th sub smut-abration I ill-advisedly decided to throw in February approximately 24 hours before finding out I was pregnant. The good news is we're already at 3k out of an estimated 10k for the BB, so I can officially say the writing block curse has lifted
⛰️ Also now working on the followup to my steddie winter exchange S2 AU werewolf!Eddie fic, in which Eddie and Steve have some fun kink discovery in the woods
If anyone doesn't want E-rated snippets, please feel free to specify and I will make sure you get something M-rated or lower :)
Underneath the cut enjoy a short SFW snippet from ⛰️, and tagging some folks who might want to join in on the fun themselves
After marching the two of them back into the trailer living room, kicking the dog bed him and his uncle sometimes slept in out of the way (“What? It’s cheaper than a mattress and the pullout is older than Wayne. In the guise of man’s best friend, we werewolves can live in the lap of luxury.”), and pausing for Wayne’s snuffles to be heard through the door, Eddie sighed and went about shoving his face as far into Steve’s neck as he could.
“Hi, you smell good tonight.” His boyfriend’s voice came out muffled by two layers of hair and Steve’s collar. “Any chance we can go back to your place and salvage the evening in that plaid palace of yours?”
Steve brought his hand up to scratch at the spot behind his ear that always got his boyfriend melting. Sure enough, Eddie’s leg started thumping away.
Robin's bedroom ceiling had a crack in it shaped like the state of Florida. Steve knew this because he'd been staring at it nearly every night for the past week, flat on his back on her bed with his sneakers hanging off the edge so he wouldn't get her tie-dye comforter dirty.
It had become a kind-of routine without either of them deciding it would be. That first night he'd shown up like a lost dog on her doorstep, and she'd pulled him inside without a word. The next evening he drove over again, not really knowing why until he was already parked at the curb. By the third night Robin had left the front door unlocked.
Her mom didn't seem to mind. Mrs. Buckley had given Steve a long, appraising look that first night. The kind mothers were genetically engineered to deliver. Whatever she saw must have passed inspection because she'd simply set a second plate at the kitchen table and told him there were clean towels in the hall closet if he needed them.
He hadn't needed the towels, but the plate got used more than once.
Tonight though, the ceiling held no answers. Tomorrow was graduation, and Steve was running out of time.
"He's not coming back, is he?"
The words felt like swallowing glass, but Steve needed to say them out loud. Needed to hear how they sounded in the open air instead of rattling around inside his skull at three in the morning.
Robin sat cross-legged on the floor with her back against the bed frame, a bowl of popcorn balanced on one knee and a dog-eared copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy open on the other, though she hadn't turned a page in at least twenty minutes. She tilted her head back to look at him upside down.
"Define—coming back."
"You know what I mean," Steve groaned. He dragged the ring out of his pocket and held it above his face, turning it slowly between his thumb and forefinger. The black stone caught the light from Robin's desk lamp. "Eddie won't even answer the phone. I've called his house every day, Robin. Every single day. His uncle picks up, says Eddie's not home, but I can hear music blaring in the background and somehow I doubt Slipknot is Wayne's speed."
Robin twisted a strand of hair around one finger, frowning up at him. "Who still has a house phone these days?"
Heat crept up the back of Steve's neck. "The Munsons, apparently. Eddie never gave me his cell number, but I found one in the phone book."
"Wait—phone books are still a thing?!"
"Can you focus, please?"
"Sorry. Carry on with your spiral." She waved a magnanimous hand in his direction.
"I haven't even run into him at school." Steve let his hand drop to his chest, the ring clutched in his fist. He could feel it pressing against his sternum through his shirt, a dull point of pressure right over his heart. Fitting. "Once I caught the back of his head disappearing around a corner on the other side of the hall, but that's it. He's actively avoiding me. He's rearranged his entire life around not being in the same room as me!"
"Steve—"
He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, suddenly too restless to lie still. His knee started bouncing the second his feet hit the carpet. "Why did he even kiss me back, huh? That's the worst part of all this. He grabbed me and pulled me closer and kissed me like—" His voice cracked and he swallowed hard. "And then he ran. From his own house. Who does that?"
He expected the same gentle nod and careful look of sympathy she'd been giving him every night when he inevitably circled back to this exact point in his whining rumination. Instead, Robin let out a long, exaggerated sigh through puffed cheeks, the kind usually reserved for explaining long division to a particularly stubborn child.
"Someone who's terrified?" she said, like the answer had been painted on the wall in foot-tall letters this entire time.
"We've been over this, Rob. And I get it, but come on. He has to know I'm not messing with him by now."
"I know that. You know that." She fixed him with a look, one eyebrow hitched. "But can you really blame Eddie for still being freaked? I mean, I'm kind of surprised he let you get as close as he did after what happened to him last year."
Steve blinked. "What do you mean?"
Robin stared at him for a long, disbelieving moment, her mouth slightly open like she was waiting for a punchline. "You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding."
"I—” Steve stopped and started, something cold slithering through his gut. “I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about."
Robin set the bowl of popcorn aside and pressed both palms flat against the carpet like she needed to ground herself. "Eddie had to repeat senior year. You seriously don't know why he was held back?"
Steve shrugged, an uncomfortable prickle crawling up the back of his neck. "I figured he cut too many classes, didn't turn in homework. You know, the usual stuff."
"Oh my god." Robin pulled her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around them, the book sliding forgotten to the floor. When she spoke again, her voice had lost all its usual rapid-fire energy. It was careful, measured, like whatever she was about to say deserved to be handled with care.
"Eddie got caught kissing Jason Carver in the equipment room behind the gym. By Jason's basketball buddies."
The words hit Steve like cold water. He opened his mouth, but Robin wasn't finished.
"Jason told them Eddie came on to him. Said Eddie forced himself on him." Robin's jaw tightened, her knuckles going white where they gripped her own shins. "Which is complete and total bullshit, by the way. I don't believe that for a second and neither should anyone with half a brain cell. But Jason was the up-and-coming golden boy and Eddie was the freak, so, you can guess whose version everyone ran with."
Steve felt sick. Actually, physically sick, his stomach turning over on itself as the pieces rearranged in his head. Eddie flinching when Steve touched his arm in the hallway. The deer-in-headlights look every time Steve got too close. The way he'd defaulted to girl at the quarry, deflecting so hard and so fast it was almost dizzying. Not because he didn't know what Steve was really saying, but because another truth had already cost him everything once.
"They made his life hell, Steve. Jason's baby-jock crew—the rest of the team too. It was relentless." Robin's voice had gone quiet enough that he had to lean forward to hear her. "Eventually Eddie stopped fighting back. Then he stopped coming to school at all."
"How do you know all this?" Steve's voice came out hoarse.
Robin gave him a flat look. "I pay attention, dingus."
Steve thought about where he'd been last year when all this was happening. Deep in the blast radius of his own detonated life, watching the fallout with Tommy scatter everything he'd thought he was into pieces too small to recognize. He'd been so buried in his own wreckage he could barely see past the edges of it.
But he couldn't help wondering—if things had gone differently, if he'd never stood up to Tommy, never quit the team—would he have been there the day Jason's friends kicked in that equipment room door? Could he have done something, said something, stepped between Eddie and the avalanche that followed?
Or would he have just stood there with the rest of them?
"So when I show up out of nowhere," Steve said slowly, the horror of it settling over him like a weight, "start hanging around him, asking him to movies, sitting in the back row, telling him about this mystery person I kissed at prom—"
"He's worried that it's happening again," Robin finished, her chin propped on her knees. "That maybe you figured out it was him and you're either setting him up for some kind of public humiliation, or you're going to panic and deny everything the second someone finds out."
Steve pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, hard enough to see sparks.
Everything made sense now. Every flinch, every deflection, every wall Eddie had thrown up between them. It was never about Steve not being his type or something stupid like that. It was about Eddie having already survived the worst-case scenario once and being fucking terrified of going through it again.
"So what do I do?" he asked, dropping his hands. "How do I prove to him that I'm not some repressed asshole like Jason Carver?"
Robin was quiet for a long moment, her chin still resting on her knees, eyes unfocused in that way that meant her brain was working overtime. She picked at a loose thread in the carpet, winding it slowly around her index finger.
"A grand gesture," she said finally. "A public one. Private is where people lie and hide. Private is where Jason kissed him and then told the world it wasn't what it looked like." Her eyes found Steve's, steady and certain. "If you want Eddie to believe you, once and for all, you have to do it where he can't talk himself out of it. Show him you mean it where there's no room to wonder if you'd take it back when other people are watching."
A public gesture. A big one.
Steve looked down at the ring in his palm. The metal had gone warm, the way it always did.
"Graduation's tomorrow."
"Graduation's tomorrow,” Robin repeated, and her mouth curved into a slow, knowing smile. She reached over and squeezed his ankle, the closest part of him she could reach from the floor. “You sure you’re up for this?”
Steve closed his fist around the ring, felt the edges bite into his palm the way they had that very first night on the gym floor. He thought about Eddie's face in the golden light of his bedroom, open and unguarded for just a second before the walls came rushing back up around him. About the guy who'd shown up to his second-chance senior prom wrapped head to toe in bandages just so he could enjoy the night without anyone knowing who he was—and laugh in the face of the dress code while he was at it.
"Yeah, I am. Everyone deserves to be loved out loud."
The hallways of Hawkins High had never been this quiet.
Last day, last hour, last precious few minutes before the world stopped pretending they were still kids and shoved them out the door into the so-called real world to fend for themselves.
Most of the seniors had already cleared out their lockers days ago, eager to sever all ties with the cinderblock walls and fluorescent lighting that had been the perpetual backdrop of the past four years of their lives. Only a handful of stragglers remained, pulling down the last taped-up photos and peeling stubborn stickers off locker doors.
Steve wasn't one of them.
His locker had been empty since Friday. He'd come early for one reason, and one reason only—and that reason was currently standing at the far end of the hall with his back to Steve, stuffing what looked like a crumpled Hellfire Club banner into an already overstuffed backpack.
For a quiet moment, Steve let himself look.
He hadn't seen Eddie in days, not properly, not more than a fleeting glimpse. And the sight of him now, real and solid and close enough to touch, hit Steve somewhere behind his ribs like a fist. Eddie wore his usual ripped jeans, swapping his typical faded black band tee for an equally black button-up, the only concession he'd made for the occasion. His hair fell loose and wild around his shoulders like it always did. He was fighting with the zipper on his bag, muttering obscenities under his breath, completely unaware he had an audience.
God, Steve had missed him. The feeling was embarrassing in its intensity. A week apart and his whole body was leaning toward Eddie like a flower to sunlight, every cell straining to close the distance.
But he couldn't just charge over there. Not this time. He needed to be careful, gentle. No sudden movements. No more surprises.
He started walking, slow and deliberate, letting his dress shoes scuff against the linoleum, giving Eddie's radar time to pick him up the way it always seemed to. Three steps. Five. The sharp clip of hard soles loud in the nearly empty halls.
Eddie's shoulders hitched first. Then his hands went still on the zipper. He didn't turn around, but his whole body had gone tight, a bowstring pulled to its limit, and Steve could practically see the flight instinct kicking in, muscles coiling to bolt.
"Please don't run away from me again."
The words came out softer than Steve intended, almost a whisper, but in the hollow quiet of the hallway they carried well enough. Eddie's back expanded with a slow, shaky breath.
He turned.
He looked exhausted. That was the first thing Steve noticed. Dark smudges under his eyes, his skin paler than usual, lips bitten raw. He looked like someone who hadn't been sleeping much either, and the selfish part of Steve's brain wondered if Eddie had been staring at his own ceiling every night, replaying the same moments on an endless loop.
"Harrington." Eddie's voice was carefully flat. Clipped, yet neutral. But his eyes were doing that thing—darting, calculating, mapping the nearest exits. His fingers found the strap of his backpack and twisted.
"Listen." Steve kept his distance, a full arm's length between them. His hands hung open at his sides. "I just need to say something and then you can go, okay?"
Eddie's jaw flexed. He didn't answer, but he didn't leave either, which Steve decided to count.
"I didn't know."
Eddie's brow creased, a flicker of wary confusion cutting through the blankness.
"What happened last year with you and… Jason Carver."
The effect was immediate. Whatever color remained in Eddie's face drained out of it, his knuckles going bone-white where they gripped the backpack strap. Something dark moved behind his eyes—shame and anger and old hurt, all tangled together.
"I didn't know, Eddie, and I'm so sorry." Steve's throat ached but he forced himself to keep going. "Robin told me last night. When it happened I was—" He gestured vaguely, encompassing the entirety of his own implosion in a few rolling hand waves. "I was dealing with the Tommy fallout bullshit and I wasn't paying attention to anything outside my own disaster, and I should have been. I should have noticed."
Eddie's mouth twisted—a bitter, reluctant half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You don't have to—"
"No, I do. What Jason did to you was fucked up. Completely, unforgivably fucked up. And I need you to know—" Steve held Eddie's gaze, willing him to hear the truth of it. "—I know you would never do what he said you did. Not in a million years."
Something cracked in Eddie's composure. Just a small fracture, barely visible, but Steve saw it—the way his lower lip trembled for half a second before he caught it between his teeth, the rapid blink that might have been fighting back tears.
"And I—" Steve swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I would never do that to you. To anyone."
Eddie opened his mouth, and Steve's heart skipped a beat because maybe, maybe this was the moment—
"Gentlemen!"
A sharp voice ricocheted off the walls and they both jumped. Mr. Kaminsky, loathed chemistry teacher, was striding toward them with a clipboard and the hardened expression of a man who'd been herding teenagers for thirty years and was personally offended that they still required herding.
"The ceremony starts in twenty minutes and you're both supposed to be on the field in your caps and gowns—now. Move it!"
Eddie was already stepping back. He hitched his bag onto one shoulder and turned away, falling into step behind a handful of other seniors being ushered toward the back exit.
At the last second, just before the double doors swung shut behind him, Eddie glanced over his shoulder. Their eyes met for one brief, unguarded beat. The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Eddie's mouth, and he gave Steve the smallest nod—barely a movement at all, just a dip of his chin that could have meant nothing.
Then he was gone.
Steve stood there, heart pounding, and told himself that look had to mean something.
It had to.
The football field had been transformed.
Rows of folding chairs filled the space between the twenty-yard lines, split down the middle by a narrow aisle. A small riser had been set up near one end, draped in the school's green and orange, with a wooden podium front and center and a table off to one side stacked with diploma covers. Bunting hung from the nearest goalpost in lazy swoops, stirring in the warm June breeze.
Steve adjusted the collar of his gown for the third time as he filed into his assigned seat, the stiff polyester already sticking to the back of his neck. Alphabetical order put him dead center of the H's, which meant the universe had one last joke to play on him before he left this place for good. Tommy Hagan was already seated one chair over, legs spread wide, cap tilted back on his head like he was too cool for the whole production. A girl Steve vaguely recognized, Hannah something-or-other, sat sandwiched between them, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else.
He craned his neck, twisting in his chair to scan the rows behind him. There—several rows back and to the right, end of the M's. Steve could see Eddie's dark curls already escaping from beneath his cap, which sat at a defiant angle that suggested he'd put it on under protest. Eddie's shoulders were hunched forward, elbows on his knees, folded into himself in a way that made Steve's chest tight.
Up on the bleachers to his right, the school band occupied the first few rows in matching forest green polos. Steve spotted Robin near the end of the trumpet section, her instrument resting across her knees. She caught his eye and raised her trumpet in a little salute. He gave her a subtle thumbs-up that he hoped conveyed both 'thank you' and 'I might throw up.'
Her grin widened as if she understood.
Steve let his gaze travel up further into the stands, scanning the rows of parents and families settling into their seats. He saw Mrs. Wheeler near the front, already dabbing at her eyes with a tissue while Mr. Wheeler fanned himself with a program beside her. Jonathan's mom sat a few rows higher, Chief Hopper's arm slung around her waist, with Will fidgeting beside her.
Then, a few sections over, the Hagans. Steve's stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. Mr. Hagan in his usual full suit despite the heat, Mrs. Hagan with her big hair and bigger sunglasses, the same faces that had greeted him at their front door a thousand times over the years. They'd treated him like a second son once. He wondered if they even knew what Tommy had done, or if they'd bought his version of events the way everyone else had.
His own mom was easy to find—third row center, sitting tall with her head high and the yellow sundress she saved for special occasions. She caught him looking and pressed her fingers to her lips, eyes already shining. Steve's chest warmed. She'd always shown up for him, even when he hadn't deserved it.
He scanned the rest of the stands out of habit more than hope. His mom would have sent his dad an invitation—she was gracious like that, even after everything—but the faces blurred together before he could see if any of them were his. Steve turned back to the field and found he didn't care one way or the other.
Some people showed up, some people didn't. Eventually you learned to stop building your life around the ones who couldn't be bothered.
Principal Higgins took the podium, tapping the microphone and clearing his throat loudly until the crowd noise dipped to a low murmur. From there, he launched into a speech about new beginnings and bright futures and the importance of community, delivered with all the passion and charisma of a man reading from his grocery list. Steve tuned out almost immediately.
Instead, he watched Eddie.
Every few minutes he'd angle his body in his chair, pretending to stretch or scratch his shoulder, stealing glances backward like the world's least subtle spy. Eddie sat rigid in his seat, cap pulled low, one leg bouncing a restless beat against the grass.
The first time their eyes met, Higgins was midway through a labored metaphor comparing the graduating class to baby birds leaving the nest. Eddie caught Steve's glance and raised one eyebrow so high it nearly disappeared under his cap. Steve had to fake a coughing fit to cover his laugh.
The next time, Higgins had moved on to reading inspirational quotes that sounded like they'd come straight off a desk calendar. Eddie mouthed something Steve couldn't quite make out from a distance, but his exaggerated pantomime of nodding off and jolting awake that followed got the message across clearly enough.
After that, Steve wasn't even pretending to stretch anymore. He just turned around and looked. Eddie was already looking back, and his mouth split into a grin—wide and conspiratorial, like they were the only two people in on the joke. Then, slowly, the grin softened. The laughter fell away and left a quiet, open warmth underneath. The same look he'd given Steve in his bedroom before everything went sideways.
Steve pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.
Then suddenly Eddie's smile vanished. His eyes darted to Steve's side and he snapped his attention back to the stage, jaw set, body going rigid all over again.
Steve turned forward and found Tommy twisted halfway around in his chair, stretching his neck to see what or who had caught Steve's attention. Their eyes met for a beat. Tommy's expression was flat, unreadable, and Steve held his stare until Tommy looked away first.
Eventually—mercifully—the speeches ended and the names began.
Row by row, his classmates filed up to the stage. The pattern was hypnotic in its monotony. Name, polite applause, handshake, diploma, exit stage right. Steve clapped softly on autopilot, his mind running through the plan one more time, testing it for cracks, bracing for the ways it could go wrong.
Then his row was called.
He stood, smoothed his gown, and joined the procession up the center aisle. His legs felt strange beneath him, like they belonged to someone else. The walk to the stage took approximately seven thousand years.
"Steven Harrington."
A smattering of applause from the crowd as he climbed the steps. He shook Higgins' hand, accepted his diploma, and looked out at the sea of faces. For one disorienting second the whole thing felt surreal — the field, the gowns, the bunting, all of it teetering on the edge of a before and after that no one else could see yet.
He walked off the stage and returned to his seat. The diploma cover was smooth and warm in his hands. He didn't open it.
More names. More applause. Steve tapped his feet in an impatient rhythm against the metal leg of his chair as the alphabet crept closer to the end.
The M's were called.
Steve sat up straighter, every nerve ending suddenly, almost painfully alive. Name after name climbed the short steps and crossed the stage to cheers from the stands, high-fives from classmates, the occasional air horn from someone's overly enthusiastic family.
"Edward Munson."
Steve was on his feet before the second syllable left Higgins' mouth.
He brought his fingers to his lips and let loose the sharpest, loudest whistle he could manage — the one he'd perfected at swim meets — the kind that cut through stadium noise like a blade. His hands came together in a thunderclap of applause that had Hannah flinching beside him, and he didn't care. He didn't care who was staring or what they thought, because Eddie was climbing those steps and he was getting his goddamn diploma and someone in this school was going to make sure he heard that it mattered. That someone was proud. That someone cared.
And he wasn't alone.
Somewhere in the rows behind him, Jeff and Grant surged out of their chairs, caps nearly flying off as they whooped and stamped their feet, their shiny green polyester gowns billowing in the breeze. From the band section, Robin shot to her feet, trumpet abandoned on the bench beside her, clapping hard enough that Steve could hear it join his own applause from across the field. Gareth was up barely a second later, whooping with both hands cupped around his mouth.
And up in the stands, a wiry, balding man in worn denim rose to his feet. No whooping, no whistling. He just stood there, clapping steady and sure, eyes red-rimmed and shining above a smile so full of pride it nearly made Steve’s own eyes begin to water.
Uncle Wayne, Steve presumed. Had to be.
Eddie's cheeks were flaming pink when he reached the podium, biting his lips so hard to keep from smiling that it looked like it hurt. He took the diploma from Higgins with one hand and shook with the other, gripping hard enough that the principal winced and flexed his fingers after. For a suspended beat Eddie stood at the center of the stage, scanning the crowd with wide eyes, taking in the faces on their feet for him.
His gaze found Steve—lingered. And Steve watched Eddie's throat bob around a swallow before he finally looked away.
It was the kind of moment Steve wanted to freeze and live inside forever.
Then a cluster of boos cut through the noise—scattered but loud, launched from the mouths of thick necks and buzzcuts throughout the rows of graduates.
Eddie's chin lifted. His mouth split into its usual devil-may-care grin, and he raised one ringed hand high above his head—middle finger first, slow and deliberate, like he was conducting an orchestra only he could hear.
Every single person who'd stood up for Eddie roared louder. Wayne included.
Tommy was among them, because of course he was, egging the others on with a sharp, barking laugh. Steve turned to face him, still on his feet, still clapping.
Their eyes locked and Tommy's laugh died mid-breath.
A flush crawled up his neck, blotchy and red. Whatever he saw in Steve's face made him close his mouth, sink lower in his chair, and find something very interesting to look at on the ground between his shoes.
Eddie hopped down the steps and stalked back to his seat, as the calling of names began again, a little swagger to his walk and his diploma clutched to his chest.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur of names Steve didn't hear and applause he barely registered. His hand kept wandering to his pocket, fingers finding the ring and turning it over and over like a worry stone, the familiar motion the only thing keeping his pulse steady.
When the last diploma had been passed into the hands of its owner, Higgins returned to the podium one final time, mumbled something about the future being theirs, and—
"Congratulations to the Hawkins High class of two thousand eighteen!"
Cheers erupted from all around and the sky quickly filled with caps and tassels in a wave of green and orange, a hundred arms launching them toward the clouds. Steve simply let his fall to the ground. He was already on the move.
The crowd was chaos—families flooding the field, graduates crashing into each other with hugs and screams, cameras flashing from every angle. Steve wove through it all—past clusters of crying girls, past proud fathers clapping their sons on shoulders, past teachers trying and failing to maintain some semblance of order. His eyes scanned the mess of bodies.
Searching.
There.
Eddie stood on the edge of it all, half-turned toward the bleachers like he was looking for Wayne. His cap was gone—lost or tossed, impossible to tell—and his gown hung wide open over that black button-up, diploma folio clutched tightly in one hand. He looked like he was trying to figure out the fastest route off the field without having to wade through the sea of people.
Steve didn't slow down. Didn't hesitate. Didn't give himself a single second to think about what he was about to do, because if he thought about it he might lose his nerve, and if he lost his nerve, he'd never forgive himself.
He closed the distance in five long strides, and Eddie—as usual—must have sensed him coming because he turned just as Steve reached him, mouth already opening to say something.
A greeting, a question, a deflection, one of his trademark quips designed to keep the world at arm's length.
Steve would never know. He didn't give Eddie the chance.
He took Eddie's face in both hands, gentle but firm, tilted his head, and pressed their lips together.
Not hidden. Not in the dark, not under bleachers or behind the closed doors of a storage closet or in a bedroom where no one could see. He kissed Eddie right there beneath the goalposts of the Hawkins High football field in the bright afternoon sun, surrounded by every classmate and teacher and parent who'd ever had an opinion about either of them.
For one terrifying, endless breath, Eddie didn't move.
Steve felt his hesitancy—his shock—every locked muscle in Eddie bracing for the blow that came next. His lips were warm but absolutely still against Steve's, and in that fraction of a heartbeat Steve's stomach dropped because this was it. His Hail Mary. His last shot to show Eddie that everything they'd shared—the dance, the kiss, the music, the movies, the hours talking about nothing on the edge of a quarry—had been real. That it had always been real, even before Steve knew who he was holding.
Then Eddie's diploma folio thudded softly onto the grass. Both of his hands fisted in the front of Steve's graduation gown and he hauled him closer, kissing back with a fierce, giddy energy, smiling so hard against Steve's mouth that the kiss barely held its shape.
The people nearest to them noticed first. A nudge, a pointed finger, a sharp inhale. Awareness rippled outward in widening circles—heads turning, conversations trailing off mid-sentence, a low buzz of whispers and murmurs building as more and more of the crowd looked their way. There was a distinctive shift in the air, the electric hum of a throng of people trying to process the same unexpected thing at once.
Then a wolf-whistle cut through it all, sharp and piercing.
Steve broke the kiss just enough to glance sideways. Jonathan stood maybe twenty feet away with his arm around Nancy, fingers still in his mouth from the whistle. Nancy's hands were clasped over her mouth, her eyes comically wide above them, darting between him and Eddie like she was rereading a book she'd just discovered had secret chapters.
He winked at them both and turned back to Eddie, and the face waiting for him nearly knocked the air from his lungs. Eddie's cheeks were flushed, his hair a disaster, his eyes bright and wide and locked on Steve like he was the only solid thing in a world that had just tilted on its axis.
"Is this for real?" Eddie asked, breathless, a disbelieving grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"Of course it's real.” Steve reached out and carefully tucked one of many rogue curls behind Eddie’s ear. “Do you need me to pinch you?"
Eddie laughed, quick and startled. His eyes left Steve's for the first time, scanning across the crowd around them. Some faces were smiling. Some stood with mouths agape in open shock. A few—fewer than Steve would have guessed—were twisted with disgust and confusion. Above it all was Robin, visible over Eddie's shoulder, bouncing on her toes with both fists pressed against her mouth, vibrating with barely contained joy.
"Kinda feels like a fairytale or something," Eddie murmured.
Steve's heart was so full it hurt.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out Eddie's ring for what he hoped was the last time, and took Eddie's hand in his. He turned their joined hands over and moved to slide the ring back onto the bare finger where it belonged, the one that had been missing it since prom night.
"What do you say then, Cinderella? Does the shoe fit?"
Eddie's free hand came up and covered Steve's, pressing down gently over the ring and their tangled fingers, holding everything in place. His thumb traced a slow arc across Steve's knuckles as he shook his head.
"Keep it," Eddie said. "I think I'd like to see how it looks on you anyway."
Eddie loosened his grip and Steve opened his palm between them. The black stone caught the sunlight, warm and steady, and he thought—Eddie was right. This wasn't Cinderella. There was no glass slipper to return, no spell about to break, no midnight deadline. Just two boys on a football field falling in love in broad daylight.
Not a fairytale at all, but no less magical.
Eddie took the ring from Steve's palm and slid it onto his finger, slow and deliberate, his thumb pressing it into place like a seal.
It fit perfectly.
Eddie's hands lingered, both of them wrapped around Steve's, and when Steve looked up from the ring, Eddie was close. So close that Steve could see every individual lash surrounding his eyes, could smell leather and smoke and sandalwood — the same scent that had made him dizzy at prom, the one he'd carried home in his hair and on his clothes and hadn't been able to clear from his nose for days after.
Hadn't wanted to.
"So," Eddie said quietly, just for them. "What happens now?"
Steve pulled him back in and kissed him again, slower this time. Softer. Not the desperate collision from prom night or the dizzying rush from Eddie's bedroom. This was something new. Unhurried. A kiss with nowhere to be and nothing left to prove. Eddie's arms slid around his neck as Steve's hands found the small of his back, and they fit together the same way they had on the dance floor weeks ago.
Chest to chest.
Cheek to cheek.
Only this time, when the song ended neither of them would feel the need to disappear.
All around them caps dotted the grass. Cameras continued to flash. A few people still whispered and stared.
Steve didn't care. He had Eddie’s ring on his finger and Eddie’s heartbeat against his chest and the whole sprawling, terrifying, wonderful wide-open summer stretching out ahead of them.
Plenty of time to figure out the rest together.
Thanks as always to the wonderful @penny00dreadful for your incredible beta work and cheerleading 💜 and @battythejester for stepping in and helping me bring this fic over the finish line!
Robin's bedroom ceiling had a crack in it shaped like the state of Florida. Steve knew this because he'd been staring at it nearly every night for the past week, flat on his back on her bed with his sneakers hanging off the edge so he wouldn't get her tie-dye comforter dirty.
It had become a kind-of routine without either of them deciding it would be. That first night he'd shown up like a lost dog on her doorstep, and she'd pulled him inside without a word. The next evening he drove over again, not really knowing why until he was already parked at the curb. By the third night Robin had left the front door unlocked.
Her mom didn't seem to mind. Mrs. Buckley had given Steve a long, appraising look that first night. The kind mothers were genetically engineered to deliver. Whatever she saw must have passed inspection because she'd simply set a second plate at the kitchen table and told him there were clean towels in the hall closet if he needed them.
He hadn't needed the towels, but the plate got used more than once.
Tonight though, the ceiling held no answers. Tomorrow was graduation, and Steve was running out of time.
"He's not coming back, is he?"
The words felt like swallowing glass, but Steve needed to say them out loud. Needed to hear how they sounded in the open air instead of rattling around inside his skull at three in the morning.
Robin sat cross-legged on the floor with her back against the bed frame, a bowl of popcorn balanced on one knee and a dog-eared copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy open on the other, though she hadn't turned a page in at least twenty minutes. She tilted her head back to look at him upside down.
"Define—coming back."
"You know what I mean," Steve groaned. He dragged the ring out of his pocket and held it above his face, turning it slowly between his thumb and forefinger. The black stone caught the light from Robin's desk lamp. "Eddie won't even answer the phone. I've called his house every day, Robin. Every single day. His uncle picks up, says Eddie's not home, but I can hear music blaring in the background and somehow I doubt Slipknot is Wayne's speed."
Robin twisted a strand of hair around one finger, frowning up at him. "Who still has a house phone these days?"
Heat crept up the back of Steve's neck. "The Munsons, apparently. Eddie never gave me his cell number, but I found one in the phone book."
"Wait—phone books are still a thing?!"
"Can you focus, please?"
"Sorry. Carry on with your spiral." She waved a magnanimous hand in his direction.
"I haven't even run into him at school." Steve let his hand drop to his chest, the ring clutched in his fist. He could feel it pressing against his sternum through his shirt, a dull point of pressure right over his heart. Fitting. "Once I caught the back of his head disappearing around a corner on the other side of the hall, but that's it. He's actively avoiding me. He's rearranged his entire life around not being in the same room as me!"
"Steve—"
He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, suddenly too restless to lie still. His knee started bouncing the second his feet hit the carpet. "Why did he even kiss me back, huh? That's the worst part of all this. He grabbed me and pulled me closer and kissed me like—" His voice cracked and he swallowed hard. "And then he ran. From his own house. Who does that?"
He expected the same gentle nod and careful look of sympathy she'd been giving him every night when he inevitably circled back to this exact point in his whining rumination. Instead, Robin let out a long, exaggerated sigh through puffed cheeks, the kind usually reserved for explaining long division to a particularly stubborn child.
"Someone who's terrified?" she said, like the answer had been painted on the wall in foot-tall letters this entire time.
"We've been over this, Rob. And I get it, but come on. He has to know I'm not messing with him by now."
"I know that. You know that." She fixed him with a look, one eyebrow hitched. "But can you really blame Eddie for still being freaked? I mean, I'm kind of surprised he let you get as close as he did after what happened to him last year."
Steve blinked. "What do you mean?"
Robin stared at him for a long, disbelieving moment, her mouth slightly open like she was waiting for a punchline. "You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding."
"I—” Steve stopped and started, something cold slithering through his gut. “I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about."
Robin set the bowl of popcorn aside and pressed both palms flat against the carpet like she needed to ground herself. "Eddie had to repeat senior year. You seriously don't know why he was held back?"
Steve shrugged, an uncomfortable prickle crawling up the back of his neck. "I figured he cut too many classes, didn't turn in homework. You know, the usual stuff."
"Oh my god." Robin pulled her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around them, the book sliding forgotten to the floor. When she spoke again, her voice had lost all its usual rapid-fire energy. It was careful, measured, like whatever she was about to say deserved to be handled with care.
"Eddie got caught kissing Jason Carver in the equipment room behind the gym. By Jason's basketball buddies."
The words hit Steve like cold water. He opened his mouth, but Robin wasn't finished.
"Jason told them Eddie came on to him. Said Eddie forced himself on him." Robin's jaw tightened, her knuckles going white where they gripped her own shins. "Which is complete and total bullshit, by the way. I don't believe that for a second and neither should anyone with half a brain cell. But Jason was the up-and-coming golden boy and Eddie was the freak, so, you can guess whose version everyone ran with."
Steve felt sick. Actually, physically sick, his stomach turning over on itself as the pieces rearranged in his head. Eddie flinching when Steve touched his arm in the hallway. The deer-in-headlights look every time Steve got too close. The way he'd defaulted to girl at the quarry, deflecting so hard and so fast it was almost dizzying. Not because he didn't know what Steve was really saying, but because another truth had already cost him everything once.
"They made his life hell, Steve. Jason's baby-jock crew—the rest of the team too. It was relentless." Robin's voice had gone quiet enough that he had to lean forward to hear her. "Eventually Eddie stopped fighting back. Then he stopped coming to school at all."
"How do you know all this?" Steve's voice came out hoarse.
Robin gave him a flat look. "I pay attention, dingus."
Steve thought about where he'd been last year when all this was happening. Deep in the blast radius of his own detonated life, watching the fallout with Tommy scatter everything he'd thought he was into pieces too small to recognize. He'd been so buried in his own wreckage he could barely see past the edges of it.
But he couldn't help wondering—if things had gone differently, if he'd never stood up to Tommy, never quit the team—would he have been there the day Jason's friends kicked in that equipment room door? Could he have done something, said something, stepped between Eddie and the avalanche that followed?
Or would he have just stood there with the rest of them?
"So when I show up out of nowhere," Steve said slowly, the horror of it settling over him like a weight, "start hanging around him, asking him to movies, sitting in the back row, telling him about this mystery person I kissed at prom—"
"He's worried that it's happening again," Robin finished, her chin propped on her knees. "That maybe you figured out it was him and you're either setting him up for some kind of public humiliation, or you're going to panic and deny everything the second someone finds out."
Steve pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, hard enough to see sparks.
Everything made sense now. Every flinch, every deflection, every wall Eddie had thrown up between them. It was never about Steve not being his type or something stupid like that. It was about Eddie having already survived the worst-case scenario once and being fucking terrified of going through it again.
"So what do I do?" he asked, dropping his hands. "How do I prove to him that I'm not some repressed asshole like Jason Carver?"
Robin was quiet for a long moment, her chin still resting on her knees, eyes unfocused in that way that meant her brain was working overtime. She picked at a loose thread in the carpet, winding it slowly around her index finger.
"A grand gesture," she said finally. "A public one. Private is where people lie and hide. Private is where Jason kissed him and then told the world it wasn't what it looked like." Her eyes found Steve's, steady and certain. "If you want Eddie to believe you, once and for all, you have to do it where he can't talk himself out of it. Show him you mean it where there's no room to wonder if you'd take it back when other people are watching."
A public gesture. A big one.
Steve looked down at the ring in his palm. The metal had gone warm, the way it always did.
"Graduation's tomorrow."
"Graduation's tomorrow,” Robin repeated, and her mouth curved into a slow, knowing smile. She reached over and squeezed his ankle, the closest part of him she could reach from the floor. “You sure you’re up for this?”
Steve closed his fist around the ring, felt the edges bite into his palm the way they had that very first night on the gym floor. He thought about Eddie's face in the golden light of his bedroom, open and unguarded for just a second before the walls came rushing back up around him. About the guy who'd shown up to his second-chance senior prom wrapped head to toe in bandages just so he could enjoy the night without anyone knowing who he was—and laugh in the face of the dress code while he was at it.
"Yeah, I am. Everyone deserves to be loved out loud."
The hallways of Hawkins High had never been this quiet.
Last day, last hour, last precious few minutes before the world stopped pretending they were still kids and shoved them out the door into the so-called real world to fend for themselves.
Most of the seniors had already cleared out their lockers days ago, eager to sever all ties with the cinderblock walls and fluorescent lighting that had been the perpetual backdrop of the past four years of their lives. Only a handful of stragglers remained, pulling down the last taped-up photos and peeling stubborn stickers off locker doors.
Steve wasn't one of them.
His locker had been empty since Friday. He'd come early for one reason, and one reason only—and that reason was currently standing at the far end of the hall with his back to Steve, stuffing what looked like a crumpled Hellfire Club banner into an already overstuffed backpack.
For a quiet moment, Steve let himself look.
He hadn't seen Eddie in days, not properly, not more than a fleeting glimpse. And the sight of him now, real and solid and close enough to touch, hit Steve somewhere behind his ribs like a fist. Eddie wore his usual ripped jeans, swapping his typical faded black band tee for an equally black button-up, the only concession he'd made for the occasion. His hair fell loose and wild around his shoulders like it always did. He was fighting with the zipper on his bag, muttering obscenities under his breath, completely unaware he had an audience.
God, Steve had missed him. The feeling was embarrassing in its intensity. A week apart and his whole body was leaning toward Eddie like a flower to sunlight, every cell straining to close the distance.
But he couldn't just charge over there. Not this time. He needed to be careful, gentle. No sudden movements. No more surprises.
He started walking, slow and deliberate, letting his dress shoes scuff against the linoleum, giving Eddie's radar time to pick him up the way it always seemed to. Three steps. Five. The sharp clip of hard soles loud in the nearly empty halls.
Eddie's shoulders hitched first. Then his hands went still on the zipper. He didn't turn around, but his whole body had gone tight, a bowstring pulled to its limit, and Steve could practically see the flight instinct kicking in, muscles coiling to bolt.
"Please don't run away from me again."
The words came out softer than Steve intended, almost a whisper, but in the hollow quiet of the hallway they carried well enough. Eddie's back expanded with a slow, shaky breath.
He turned.
He looked exhausted. That was the first thing Steve noticed. Dark smudges under his eyes, his skin paler than usual, lips bitten raw. He looked like someone who hadn't been sleeping much either, and the selfish part of Steve's brain wondered if Eddie had been staring at his own ceiling every night, replaying the same moments on an endless loop.
"Harrington." Eddie's voice was carefully flat. Clipped, yet neutral. But his eyes were doing that thing—darting, calculating, mapping the nearest exits. His fingers found the strap of his backpack and twisted.
"Listen." Steve kept his distance, a full arm's length between them. His hands hung open at his sides. "I just need to say something and then you can go, okay?"
Eddie's jaw flexed. He didn't answer, but he didn't leave either, which Steve decided to count.
"I didn't know."
Eddie's brow creased, a flicker of wary confusion cutting through the blankness.
"What happened last year with you and… Jason Carver."
The effect was immediate. Whatever color remained in Eddie's face drained out of it, his knuckles going bone-white where they gripped the backpack strap. Something dark moved behind his eyes—shame and anger and old hurt, all tangled together.
"I didn't know, Eddie, and I'm so sorry." Steve's throat ached but he forced himself to keep going. "Robin told me last night. When it happened I was—" He gestured vaguely, encompassing the entirety of his own implosion in a few rolling hand waves. "I was dealing with the Tommy fallout bullshit and I wasn't paying attention to anything outside my own disaster, and I should have been. I should have noticed."
Eddie's mouth twisted—a bitter, reluctant half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You don't have to—"
"No, I do. What Jason did to you was fucked up. Completely, unforgivably fucked up. And I need you to know—" Steve held Eddie's gaze, willing him to hear the truth of it. "—I know you would never do what he said you did. Not in a million years."
Something cracked in Eddie's composure. Just a small fracture, barely visible, but Steve saw it—the way his lower lip trembled for half a second before he caught it between his teeth, the rapid blink that might have been fighting back tears.
"And I—" Steve swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I would never do that to you. To anyone."
Eddie opened his mouth, and Steve's heart skipped a beat because maybe, maybe this was the moment—
"Gentlemen!"
A sharp voice ricocheted off the walls and they both jumped. Mr. Kaminsky, loathed chemistry teacher, was striding toward them with a clipboard and the hardened expression of a man who'd been herding teenagers for thirty years and was personally offended that they still required herding.
"The ceremony starts in twenty minutes and you're both supposed to be on the field in your caps and gowns—now. Move it!"
Eddie was already stepping back. He hitched his bag onto one shoulder and turned away, falling into step behind a handful of other seniors being ushered toward the back exit.
At the last second, just before the double doors swung shut behind him, Eddie glanced over his shoulder. Their eyes met for one brief, unguarded beat. The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Eddie's mouth, and he gave Steve the smallest nod—barely a movement at all, just a dip of his chin that could have meant nothing.
Then he was gone.
Steve stood there, heart pounding, and told himself that look had to mean something.
It had to.
The football field had been transformed.
Rows of folding chairs filled the space between the twenty-yard lines, split down the middle by a narrow aisle. A small riser had been set up near one end, draped in the school's green and orange, with a wooden podium front and center and a table off to one side stacked with diploma covers. Bunting hung from the nearest goalpost in lazy swoops, stirring in the warm June breeze.
Steve adjusted the collar of his gown for the third time as he filed into his assigned seat, the stiff polyester already sticking to the back of his neck. Alphabetical order put him dead center of the H's, which meant the universe had one last joke to play on him before he left this place for good. Tommy Hagan was already seated one chair over, legs spread wide, cap tilted back on his head like he was too cool for the whole production. A girl Steve vaguely recognized, Hannah something-or-other, sat sandwiched between them, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else.
He craned his neck, twisting in his chair to scan the rows behind him. There—several rows back and to the right, end of the M's. Steve could see Eddie's dark curls already escaping from beneath his cap, which sat at a defiant angle that suggested he'd put it on under protest. Eddie's shoulders were hunched forward, elbows on his knees, folded into himself in a way that made Steve's chest tight.
Up on the bleachers to his right, the school band occupied the first few rows in matching forest green polos. Steve spotted Robin near the end of the trumpet section, her instrument resting across her knees. She caught his eye and raised her trumpet in a little salute. He gave her a subtle thumbs-up that he hoped conveyed both 'thank you' and 'I might throw up.'
Her grin widened as if she understood.
Steve let his gaze travel up further into the stands, scanning the rows of parents and families settling into their seats. He saw Mrs. Wheeler near the front, already dabbing at her eyes with a tissue while Mr. Wheeler fanned himself with a program beside her. Jonathan's mom sat a few rows higher, Chief Hopper's arm slung around her waist, with Will fidgeting beside her.
Then, a few sections over, the Hagans. Steve's stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. Mr. Hagan in his usual full suit despite the heat, Mrs. Hagan with her big hair and bigger sunglasses, the same faces that had greeted him at their front door a thousand times over the years. They'd treated him like a second son once. He wondered if they even knew what Tommy had done, or if they'd bought his version of events the way everyone else had.
His own mom was easy to find—third row center, sitting tall with her head high and the yellow sundress she saved for special occasions. She caught him looking and pressed her fingers to her lips, eyes already shining. Steve's chest warmed. She'd always shown up for him, even when he hadn't deserved it.
He scanned the rest of the stands out of habit more than hope. His mom would have sent his dad an invitation—she was gracious like that, even after everything—but the faces blurred together before he could see if any of them were his. Steve turned back to the field and found he didn't care one way or the other.
Some people showed up, some people didn't. Eventually you learned to stop building your life around the ones who couldn't be bothered.
Principal Higgins took the podium, tapping the microphone and clearing his throat loudly until the crowd noise dipped to a low murmur. From there, he launched into a speech about new beginnings and bright futures and the importance of community, delivered with all the passion and charisma of a man reading from his grocery list. Steve tuned out almost immediately.
Instead, he watched Eddie.
Every few minutes he'd angle his body in his chair, pretending to stretch or scratch his shoulder, stealing glances backward like the world's least subtle spy. Eddie sat rigid in his seat, cap pulled low, one leg bouncing a restless beat against the grass.
The first time their eyes met, Higgins was midway through a labored metaphor comparing the graduating class to baby birds leaving the nest. Eddie caught Steve's glance and raised one eyebrow so high it nearly disappeared under his cap. Steve had to fake a coughing fit to cover his laugh.
The next time, Higgins had moved on to reading inspirational quotes that sounded like they'd come straight off a desk calendar. Eddie mouthed something Steve couldn't quite make out from a distance, but his exaggerated pantomime of nodding off and jolting awake that followed got the message across clearly enough.
After that, Steve wasn't even pretending to stretch anymore. He just turned around and looked. Eddie was already looking back, and his mouth split into a grin—wide and conspiratorial, like they were the only two people in on the joke. Then, slowly, the grin softened. The laughter fell away and left a quiet, open warmth underneath. The same look he'd given Steve in his bedroom before everything went sideways.
Steve pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.
Then suddenly Eddie's smile vanished. His eyes darted to Steve's side and he snapped his attention back to the stage, jaw set, body going rigid all over again.
Steve turned forward and found Tommy twisted halfway around in his chair, stretching his neck to see what or who had caught Steve's attention. Their eyes met for a beat. Tommy's expression was flat, unreadable, and Steve held his stare until Tommy looked away first.
Eventually—mercifully—the speeches ended and the names began.
Row by row, his classmates filed up to the stage. The pattern was hypnotic in its monotony. Name, polite applause, handshake, diploma, exit stage right. Steve clapped softly on autopilot, his mind running through the plan one more time, testing it for cracks, bracing for the ways it could go wrong.
Then his row was called.
He stood, smoothed his gown, and joined the procession up the center aisle. His legs felt strange beneath him, like they belonged to someone else. The walk to the stage took approximately seven thousand years.
"Steven Harrington."
A smattering of applause from the crowd as he climbed the steps. He shook Higgins' hand, accepted his diploma, and looked out at the sea of faces. For one disorienting second the whole thing felt surreal — the field, the gowns, the bunting, all of it teetering on the edge of a before and after that no one else could see yet.
He walked off the stage and returned to his seat. The diploma cover was smooth and warm in his hands. He didn't open it.
More names. More applause. Steve tapped his feet in an impatient rhythm against the metal leg of his chair as the alphabet crept closer to the end.
The M's were called.
Steve sat up straighter, every nerve ending suddenly, almost painfully alive. Name after name climbed the short steps and crossed the stage to cheers from the stands, high-fives from classmates, the occasional air horn from someone's overly enthusiastic family.
"Edward Munson."
Steve was on his feet before the second syllable left Higgins' mouth.
He brought his fingers to his lips and let loose the sharpest, loudest whistle he could manage — the one he'd perfected at swim meets — the kind that cut through stadium noise like a blade. His hands came together in a thunderclap of applause that had Hannah flinching beside him, and he didn't care. He didn't care who was staring or what they thought, because Eddie was climbing those steps and he was getting his goddamn diploma and someone in this school was going to make sure he heard that it mattered. That someone was proud. That someone cared.
And he wasn't alone.
Somewhere in the rows behind him, Jeff and Grant surged out of their chairs, caps nearly flying off as they whooped and stamped their feet, their shiny green polyester gowns billowing in the breeze. From the band section, Robin shot to her feet, trumpet abandoned on the bench beside her, clapping hard enough that Steve could hear it join his own applause from across the field. Gareth was up barely a second later, whooping with both hands cupped around his mouth.
And up in the stands, a wiry, balding man in worn denim rose to his feet. No whooping, no whistling. He just stood there, clapping steady and sure, eyes red-rimmed and shining above a smile so full of pride it nearly made Steve’s own eyes begin to water.
Uncle Wayne, Steve presumed. Had to be.
Eddie's cheeks were flaming pink when he reached the podium, biting his lips so hard to keep from smiling that it looked like it hurt. He took the diploma from Higgins with one hand and shook with the other, gripping hard enough that the principal winced and flexed his fingers after. For a suspended beat Eddie stood at the center of the stage, scanning the crowd with wide eyes, taking in the faces on their feet for him.
His gaze found Steve—lingered. And Steve watched Eddie's throat bob around a swallow before he finally looked away.
It was the kind of moment Steve wanted to freeze and live inside forever.
Then a cluster of boos cut through the noise—scattered but loud, launched from the mouths of thick necks and buzzcuts throughout the rows of graduates.
Eddie's chin lifted. His mouth split into its usual devil-may-care grin, and he raised one ringed hand high above his head—middle finger first, slow and deliberate, like he was conducting an orchestra only he could hear.
Every single person who'd stood up for Eddie roared louder. Wayne included.
Tommy was among them, because of course he was, egging the others on with a sharp, barking laugh. Steve turned to face him, still on his feet, still clapping.
Their eyes locked and Tommy's laugh died mid-breath.
A flush crawled up his neck, blotchy and red. Whatever he saw in Steve's face made him close his mouth, sink lower in his chair, and find something very interesting to look at on the ground between his shoes.
Eddie hopped down the steps and stalked back to his seat, as the calling of names began again, a little swagger to his walk and his diploma clutched to his chest.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur of names Steve didn't hear and applause he barely registered. His hand kept wandering to his pocket, fingers finding the ring and turning it over and over like a worry stone, the familiar motion the only thing keeping his pulse steady.
When the last diploma had been passed into the hands of its owner, Higgins returned to the podium one final time, mumbled something about the future being theirs, and—
"Congratulations to the Hawkins High class of two thousand eighteen!"
Cheers erupted from all around and the sky quickly filled with caps and tassels in a wave of green and orange, a hundred arms launching them toward the clouds. Steve simply let his fall to the ground. He was already on the move.
The crowd was chaos—families flooding the field, graduates crashing into each other with hugs and screams, cameras flashing from every angle. Steve wove through it all—past clusters of crying girls, past proud fathers clapping their sons on shoulders, past teachers trying and failing to maintain some semblance of order. His eyes scanned the mess of bodies.
Searching.
There.
Eddie stood on the edge of it all, half-turned toward the bleachers like he was looking for Wayne. His cap was gone—lost or tossed, impossible to tell—and his gown hung wide open over that black button-up, diploma folio clutched tightly in one hand. He looked like he was trying to figure out the fastest route off the field without having to wade through the sea of people.
Steve didn't slow down. Didn't hesitate. Didn't give himself a single second to think about what he was about to do, because if he thought about it he might lose his nerve, and if he lost his nerve, he'd never forgive himself.
He closed the distance in five long strides, and Eddie—as usual—must have sensed him coming because he turned just as Steve reached him, mouth already opening to say something.
A greeting, a question, a deflection, one of his trademark quips designed to keep the world at arm's length.
Steve would never know. He didn't give Eddie the chance.
He took Eddie's face in both hands, gentle but firm, tilted his head, and pressed their lips together.
Not hidden. Not in the dark, not under bleachers or behind the closed doors of a storage closet or in a bedroom where no one could see. He kissed Eddie right there beneath the goalposts of the Hawkins High football field in the bright afternoon sun, surrounded by every classmate and teacher and parent who'd ever had an opinion about either of them.
For one terrifying, endless breath, Eddie didn't move.
Steve felt his hesitancy—his shock—every locked muscle in Eddie bracing for the blow that came next. His lips were warm but absolutely still against Steve's, and in that fraction of a heartbeat Steve's stomach dropped because this was it. His Hail Mary. His last shot to show Eddie that everything they'd shared—the dance, the kiss, the music, the movies, the hours talking about nothing on the edge of a quarry—had been real. That it had always been real, even before Steve knew who he was holding.
Then Eddie's diploma folio thudded softly onto the grass. Both of his hands fisted in the front of Steve's graduation gown and he hauled him closer, kissing back with a fierce, giddy energy, smiling so hard against Steve's mouth that the kiss barely held its shape.
The people nearest to them noticed first. A nudge, a pointed finger, a sharp inhale. Awareness rippled outward in widening circles—heads turning, conversations trailing off mid-sentence, a low buzz of whispers and murmurs building as more and more of the crowd looked their way. There was a distinctive shift in the air, the electric hum of a throng of people trying to process the same unexpected thing at once.
Then a wolf-whistle cut through it all, sharp and piercing.
Steve broke the kiss just enough to glance sideways. Jonathan stood maybe twenty feet away with his arm around Nancy, fingers still in his mouth from the whistle. Nancy's hands were clasped over her mouth, her eyes comically wide above them, darting between him and Eddie like she was rereading a book she'd just discovered had secret chapters.
He winked at them both and turned back to Eddie, and the face waiting for him nearly knocked the air from his lungs. Eddie's cheeks were flushed, his hair a disaster, his eyes bright and wide and locked on Steve like he was the only solid thing in a world that had just tilted on its axis.
"Is this for real?" Eddie asked, breathless, a disbelieving grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"Of course it's real.” Steve reached out and carefully tucked one of many rogue curls behind Eddie’s ear. “Do you need me to pinch you?"
Eddie laughed, quick and startled. His eyes left Steve's for the first time, scanning across the crowd around them. Some faces were smiling. Some stood with mouths agape in open shock. A few—fewer than Steve would have guessed—were twisted with disgust and confusion. Above it all was Robin, visible over Eddie's shoulder, bouncing on her toes with both fists pressed against her mouth, vibrating with barely contained joy.
"Kinda feels like a fairytale or something," Eddie murmured.
Steve's heart was so full it hurt.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out Eddie's ring for what he hoped was the last time, and took Eddie's hand in his. He turned their joined hands over and moved to slide the ring back onto the bare finger where it belonged, the one that had been missing it since prom night.
"What do you say then, Cinderella? Does the shoe fit?"
Eddie's free hand came up and covered Steve's, pressing down gently over the ring and their tangled fingers, holding everything in place. His thumb traced a slow arc across Steve's knuckles as he shook his head.
"Keep it," Eddie said. "I think I'd like to see how it looks on you anyway."
Eddie loosened his grip and Steve opened his palm between them. The black stone caught the sunlight, warm and steady, and he thought—Eddie was right. This wasn't Cinderella. There was no glass slipper to return, no spell about to break, no midnight deadline. Just two boys on a football field falling in love in broad daylight.
Not a fairytale at all, but no less magical.
Eddie took the ring from Steve's palm and slid it onto his finger, slow and deliberate, his thumb pressing it into place like a seal.
It fit perfectly.
Eddie's hands lingered, both of them wrapped around Steve's, and when Steve looked up from the ring, Eddie was close. So close that Steve could see every individual lash surrounding his eyes, could smell leather and smoke and sandalwood — the same scent that had made him dizzy at prom, the one he'd carried home in his hair and on his clothes and hadn't been able to clear from his nose for days after.
Hadn't wanted to.
"So," Eddie said quietly, just for them. "What happens now?"
Steve pulled him back in and kissed him again, slower this time. Softer. Not the desperate collision from prom night or the dizzying rush from Eddie's bedroom. This was something new. Unhurried. A kiss with nowhere to be and nothing left to prove. Eddie's arms slid around his neck as Steve's hands found the small of his back, and they fit together the same way they had on the dance floor weeks ago.
Chest to chest.
Cheek to cheek.
Only this time, when the song ended neither of them would feel the need to disappear.
All around them caps dotted the grass. Cameras continued to flash. A few people still whispered and stared.
Steve didn't care. He had Eddie’s ring on his finger and Eddie’s heartbeat against his chest and the whole sprawling, terrifying, wonderful wide-open summer stretching out ahead of them.
Plenty of time to figure out the rest together.
Thanks as always to the wonderful @penny00dreadful for your incredible beta work and cheerleading 💜 and @battythejester for stepping in and helping me bring this fic over the finish line!
Once again spreading the Corroded Coffin sitcom agenda. (thank you so much for the ask!! 💜)
"Why you keep saying we like it's a group mission?"
"Isn't everything in our lives a group mission?" Chrissy rolls eyes impatiently "Didn't we bake and sell hundreds of cookies when Doug couldn't pay for his surgery? Or spent hours painting little thingies for Gareth's model projects? Or read and sort piles and piles of files for Heather? I mean, this whole story only happened because Jeff said he always dreamed of hitting the Casinos when he visited his grandparents in Atlantic City. Jesus Eddie, we stopped our whole lives to spend a whole week doing things to celebrate their wedding, I'm still in debt! We do laundry together, get sick together, suffer through the gym together… Let us help you find a boyfriend together! And if it doesn't work, we'll get depressed together, too."
Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), STWG Kinktober 2025, Human Soldier Steve Harrington, Cursed Sword Eddie Munson, CNC, Monsterfucker, Please Keep In Mind This Is Still Based Off A Specific Book Series And May Not Appear 'Monsterfucker'-y Enough For Some, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, Established Relationship, establish dynamic, Dom/sub Undertones, Knife Play, Blood, Spit & Water As Lube, Weapon Polish As Lube, silly epilogue, Hints As Childhood Friends To Lovers, Jeff Is A Little Shit And Tricked The Party, Wingman Will Byers, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has A Secret Crush On Eddie Munson
Summary:
Exhaustion continues to build in his body; the constant march of his legion a constant factor, a soft life turned brutal. Steven Harrington was never meant to be a soldier; had trained in swordplay and tactics his entire life by way of his father's wishes, but not under the expectation he would ever truly use it.
He has grown used to it now... but the exhaustion of a soldier can lead to many a dangerous result, and upon his solo travels to rid himself of the battle's results, a surprise sword to the throat may results in his end.
Written for the STWG Kinktober 2025 Event For Week Three
This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics with an even number of hits.
Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks!
Not in my unposted bits so have an attempt at petty inspo from me!
Steve rolls his eyes, meeting Carol's as she does the same thing, popping her gum loudly like she always does. A beat, and it's Steve who looks away first.
It's---they're a habit he still hasn't managed to break, even after three months of trying his best to ignore her and Tommy, as he tries to be a better person. For himself, for Nancy. Even for Jonathan, though he's still pissed about those pictures.
It's a reminder he needs. He knows Tommy and Carol make him worse people, but dammit, sometimes he misses being a petty bitch.
He'll make do with snorting at the Freak's newest rant, maybe muttering to himself under his breath. The Freak can take it, and it's not like he's spreading rumors, or shoulder checking him or anyone else like he used to. He just...
He looks back over at Carol, who looks at Eddie then back at him, raising an eyebrow as if to ask, really? him?
... he really does miss her.
We're back in the building again!! Happy Friday and a wonderful WIP weekend to you my friends! I've finished off Paws & Effect and 'Leather & Lace' is out getting a SPAG check, so we're got some oldies and some newbies on the list this week!
Thank you to @svalinnside and @shelleyminx for the tag!!
Same rules as always - toss me an emoji and I'll give you 50-200 words in return 🖤
⚕️ There's More To Me Than You (Chapter 4) - Paramedic Steve/Tattoo Apprentice Eddie
🩰 Survival In Motion (Chapter 5) - Dance Instructor Eddie/Single Dad Steve
🦇 Steddie Bingo 1 - 'Coming Back For More' (Sequel To My Kas Eddie Fic 'A Taste Of You' ; Mystery Prompts)
🐦⬛ A Game of Chicken With The Universe - (Chapter 3 of 5 of my Platonic Stobin Minibang - WORDS REDACTED); You can choose a second emoji or I can roll a d4 to get a clip of one of the above in exchange.
⚕️ 'There's More To Me Than You' WIP Clip & Tags Under The Cut ⚕️
“What about that guy you were talking to? Your ‘step-twin’ set you up on a blind date, right?” He turned from her, trying and failing to hide the pink in his cheeks, “I thought you hit it off?”
“Dustin.” She nodded, looking back at the mural to make sure there were no final touches she needed, and before sliding down the ladder, “Yes, and he will be there too, I think. He is friends with Mike as well as my brother… and his mother is friends with my mom, Joyce. He is frustratingly similar to my brother though; I am an ex, so he thinks I am off limits and does not understand that Mike and I were not good for each other in that way. We stayed together too long, in hopes that we would not hurt one another. Ugh, if we had been siblings then, I would never have dated Mike I don’t think - not with how obvious it is Will has harbored feelings for so long, but Dad and Joyce did not reconnect until we were almost grown, when Joyce went back to Hawkins for a visit, and I did not know we would be family then. I only knew Will as Mike’s long distance friend who had moved away when they were young. It is a strange and complicated web of friendship and family.”
“But you like him, don’t you?” Eddie reached for their coffee pot to pour himself a cup and sip at it; he wouldn’t be getting any more work done with how this conversation was going anyway.
“Very much. He is sweet and intelligent, also kind and loyal — too loyal, I suppose, if my past romantic entanglement is still an issue.” She grumbled, before shooting him a sly glance. “Also, he is sturdy. I do not believe I would break him like I could have broken Mike… or like I believe you would like Prince Charming to break you.”
Coffee burst out of Eddie’s mouth, sending Jane cackling as she cleaned up her supplies, “Jesus, Janie.”
Thank you to the @strangerthingswritersguild for continuing to facilitate these weekends 🖤
No Pressure Tag List: @hbyrde36 @tinytalkingtina @vthx @machtaholic @roguespeedster @helpimstuckposting @yesdangerpls
