Unfortunately (fortunately?) I finished this WIP before I got to your ask, so I'm using it as a wildcard, where I took all my (relatively) short steddie fics and rolled a die to pick which one to fill with! The dice for you came up with Try, Try Again. Hope you like it!
Steve’s ass in those jeans notwithstanding, how does he manage to make that look so easy?
Eddie considers, very briefly, climbing over the console to the back himself. Then he remembers the first time he’d tried to hook up with Steve, and sensibly opens the van door, walking around, half hard as he still is.
hello hello hello friendly reminder that you’re one of the funniest people i’ve ever talked to on this website and your comments are the BEST and your style is cool as hell
OHHHHHHHHMYGOD YOU are one of the nicest friendliest funniest people i’ve ever met on this website and i am beyond grateful my batshit commentary inspired you to befriend me 🙂↕️
(rolls up stoned to your drive-thru window) yeah, can i get uhhhh… one steddie drabble combo, extra spicy with a side of trope and a large vibe to drink?
{happy early birthday i’m SO excited about this! can’t wait to see what you come up with. i’m down with any rating you’re feeling and any topic except cheating or non-con, so other than those two go wild}
wyn! i hate that this took me so long to get you but thank you soooo much for sending it in and making me chuckle. thank you for choosing steddie drive thru, here you go, but sorry. we were out of the spicy combos so i hope plain is okay <333
ship: steddie | trope: one bed | vibe: bittersweet | length: 1000-1500
the clock on steve's bedside table shows that it's 6:24am when the group calls it quits, its bright red numbers breaking through the haze of a cloudy morning. steve can hear robin in the guest room next door with nancy, max and el as their voices bleed through the walls. if he really tried to listen, he could probably hear them whispering secrets about how scared they really are, how el is putting on a brave face and how max isn't really ready for a fight and how they're all acting fine when they're not.
it's their reality now. fighting in a war that none of them want to fight in.
the boys are rowdy downstairs still until steve hears lucas yell at them all to shut up. he smiles into the back of his hand as he yawns and pulls out a pair of sleep shorts, yanking them on and untangling his shirt from where it got caught around his neck. face planting on his bed is easy with how bone tired he is. his head hurts from drafting plans and his stomach hurts from not having enough rations to go around and his body has been broken enough times that the pressure from the thunderstorm rolling in has his joints inflamed.
steve expects it when his door creaks open, when the light from the hallway bleeds in and mixes with steely grey light coming from his window. "steve?"
eddie's voice is low when he speaks like he's afraid to wake up steve even though the whole point was that they'd be splitting up rooms. his chest feels too bare against the sheets but he's too tired to pick up a new one let alone put it on. he turns his head on his pillow so eddie can hear him without being muffled.
"bunking with me, ed?" he doesn't hear eddie answer but sees his silhouette shift against the door frame, moving his weight from one foot to the other. his fingers are twisting a ring and he looks like a little kid. steve's too tired to think about how they're all still kid of kids fighting a battle like they're grown ups. "if you're coming in, shut the door. it's too bright out there."
without waiting for an answer, steve scoots over gracelessly in his bed and nuzzles his head into the other pillow, winding his arms between the pillow and mattress. eddie walks silently, the swish of his jeans and the clinking of his chains the only thing that tells steve he's in the room. when he doesn't feel movement, he turns his head on the pillow and looks up at eddie with one eye peeled open.
"just get in the bed," he says firmly when he spots eddie standing by the bed like he's waiting for permission.
eddie hesitates and doesn't look at steve. "i can just sleep on the floor..."
steve groans. not this again. "eddie, c'mon. it's late, we both need a good night's sleep and you're not going to get that on my hard ass floors. i don't have cooties, i promise."
eddie lets out this sound that's not quite a sigh but steve can't place what it really is. he expects eddie to put up a fight like he normally does when he's being weird about sharing the bed but then the mattress dips not a second later and any subsequent movement stops. he doesn't feel eddie situate himself, doesn't hear him take off any clothes, only the thud of his sneakers falling to the floor.
"you can get comfortable, you know," steve says, huffing out a breath, thinking about getting up and getting eddie a pair of sweatpants so he won't be sleeping in jeans.
"i've slept in worse," is all eddie says before laying flat on his back.
steve rolls his eyes, too tired to argue, and curls back up on his side. from here, he can look out the window and see the wind rustling the treetops against the grey sky. even outside looks angry, unsettled, like it knows what the group is feeling and showing it back to them.
eddie lets out a sigh and twitches minutely against the mattress enough times that it starts to bug steve. he can feel the energy in the room shift because he knows that eddie wants to move, wants to take off his jeans at least, but won't for some unknown reason. eddie sighs again, more of a huff than anything and steve sits up out of frustration.
"okay, what's going on man," he asks and rubs a hand over his too tired face. eddie's eyebrows are pulled together, lips quirked down like he's forcing himself not to say something.
"just go to sleep, steve."
"fuck that," steve halfway shouts, his voice too loud in the stilling house. "i can't sleep when you're over there doing your best impression of a wood board."
eddie lifts himself up onto an elbow and scowls at steve. "really? that's that best metaphor you can come up with?"
"shut up, it's late- or well, early- so excuse me for not waxing poetic about how you're laying there like the mattress is going to bite you."
they're in a stalemate. steve is staring at eddie who's staring right back like he's waiting for something, waiting for the shoe to drop or for the world to open up and swallow him whole. they've gotten to a point where they can read each other fully especially after everything that happened in march. they were by each other's sides more often than not and when you're that attached to someone, when you've put them back together piece by broken piece, you learn their tells quick.
but then it happens. something shifts in the early morning hours and steve can feel it happen because suddenly he feels small and eddie looks young and it's like they both understand each other without saying a word.
steve settles back down, laying on his side, facing eddie. he curls up and keeps his hand between them, reaching for something he doesn't even realize he's reaching for. eddie does the same when he lays back down, jeans crinkling as he adjusts and pulls his legs up close to his chest.
"what's wrong?" steve's voice is soft in that 6am way when he asks. his eyes are soft in that eddie way, too.
"i'm scared, i guess," eddie mutters out, his eyes focusing on his hand as his fingers dance along the fitted sheet. "today was a lot and it... got me thinking."
he hears a thud in the guest room and a hushed 'sorry' from robin followed by giggles from the girls like they're at a sleepover and not at the end of the world. he wishes it was a sleepover and not boot camp for an end of the world army.
"uh oh, you thinking?" steve says in that soft way again, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "that's dangerous."
eddie huffs out a laugh and keeps his eyes down. "ha ha, nice one. haven't heard that before."
they get silent again and the rain that was threatening to pour starts coming down in a pitter patter against the windows. it picks up quickly along with the wind and the thunder and it doesn't escape him how eddie flinches at the sound every so often. steve wants to distract him, shield him from whatever is scaring him because that's who he is. the shield, the protector, the guy who's there to keep them all from falling apart with brute strength and biting sarcasm.
"so you were thinking..." he prods, trying to fill the space with something other than the noises outside that serve as a constant reminder of how close eddie was to dying. "care to share?"
eddie looks up as thunder booms somewhere in the distance but he doesn't look scared this time. he's determined, steady. steve doesn't have time to think about how much he loves that look on his face before suddenly there's a hand over top of his own, warm where it presses into every open space his hand offers.
"i think i'll keep this one a secret for now, if that's okay with you, king steve."
the warmth on the top of steve's hand spreads like molten gold through his hands like he is but an object under king midas's touch. it spreads to through his veins, up his arms to his heart and it thuds harshly against his chest at the feeling. when lightening lights up the early morning sky, steve can see it reflected in eddie's dark eyes.
"m'not a king anymore," is all he can get out, afraid that if he keeps talking for too long, 6am secrets will spill out across the mattress and he'll have no way of taking them back. eddie's hand twitches, squeezes steve's gently before leaving it there and closing his eyes.
24. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” “Probably not.”
“Why are there never any hot guys here anymore?” Eddie complained, voice whinier than he’d like to admit.
Jeff raised an eyebrow at him, “you calling me ugly, Munson?”
Eddie rolled his eyes before giving Jeff his sweetest smile. “Never any hot guys who’d also like to have sex with me, or are you suddenly interested Jeffy-boy?”
Jeff made a disgusted face that would have been insulting if Eddie didn’t feel exactly the same. The only other gay guy he knew and they were tragically not attracted to each other. What a cruel world they lived in.
Eddie was about to complain about that instead but before he could Jeff did a double take at the bar, eyes widening.
“Is that Steve Harrington?”
Eddie whipped his head around so quickly it was a wonder he didn’t hurt himself. It would have been worth it if he did though because there sitting at the bar was indeed Steve.
Steve with his broad shoulders, and ridiculous hair that Eddie had been obsessed with since his first senior year.
“Oh shit,” he rasped, his throat suddenly dry.
He blinked several times to see if maybe he was imagining it and Steve would go away. He didn’t, he stayed right where he was. And then he was turning around and their eyes locked. Steve looked shocked for a second but quickly gathered himself, tilting his head slightly at Eddie giving a slow once-over. Just that made Eddie feel like he was gonna explode and then the bastard had the audacity to wink at him before turning back around.
Eddie gaped.
“Did he just wink at you?” Jeff asked slowly, “did Steve fucking Harrington just wink at you in this gay bar?”
Eddie wordlessly nodded, Steve had just done that. If Eddie had had any questions about what Steve was doing here he didn’t anymore.
Steve Harrington had just- he had- oh this was good. Eddie's lips stretched into a slow smirk as his shock slowly faded away, a new thought taking its place.
“I don’t like that look,” Jeff eyed him suspiciously.
Eddie ignored it, instead asking, “are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
He sighed, “probably not.”
“I should seduce Steve.” Eddie continued before Jeff had even finished.
“Not even close to what I was thinking.”
Eddie pressed his half-drunk beer into Jeff’s empty hands. “Well start thinking it baby, 'cause it’s happening.”
He spun around as Jeff muttered ‘here we fucking go’ which Eddie chose to interpret as him being supportive. Like ‘fuck yeah, here we fucking go!’ he gave Jeff a one-fingered wave over his shoulder as thanks.
'Here we fucking go indeed', he thought as he slid up next to Steve.
5. what made you start your blog? - i was in a kpop phase at the time lol (around 2010/2011) and kpop folks were migrating from livejournal to tumblr! realized how fun it was and i've been here ever since lmao
okay well obviously everyone’s gonna ask you about that first wip doc lmfaoo. tell me about “don’t rush this baby” 😘
the first one LSKDFJSL this is what i get for using kinktober prompts as temporary titles for docs instead of coming up with an actual title to start with
ANYWAY "don't rush this baby" 🥰 this one actually started as part of a discord conversation with you! and a few other people like a WHILE back (and i've been busy with other projects and haven't touched it much since but i still really want to write it)
but basically this is the divorced dad Steve fic! based on "push" by matchbox twenty (i don't know if i've ever been good enough. I'm a little bit rusty and i think my head is caving in. I don't know if I've ever been really loved by a hand that's touched me <– ALL TIME devastating steve harrington line) where his terrible marriage falls apart and he's suddenly a single dad and moves back to hawkins and unexpectedly reconnects with eddie 🥺 I have lots of notes/random plot ideas in bullet point format but here's as far as I've gotten on writing it in narrative form:
This isn’t exactly how Steve envisioned his thirtieth birthday going.
Not that he’s spent a huge amount of time envisioning it in general, but if you’d asked him five years ago or last year or even last month what he’d be doing, he’d probably have said: Dinner? Drinks? Hiring a babysitter so they can have a night out in the city, and then if we’re really being honest, getting into a passive aggressive non-argument over the correct temperature to order for a steak, and then pretending not to notice the heavy tension hanging in the air on the twenty five minute drive back to their house in the suburbs?
And – okay, so in fairness, he probably should have been expecting this, and he sort of was, but it didn’t have to happen on his birthday, did it?
45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?
i started writing fic when i was barely a teenager so i don't really remember what my writing was like before then
i did stop writing for several years because life and i got back into it in like 2022. i feel like this time around, i'm a more consistent writer and one thing i've improved on is actually finishing things.
when i was in the teen wolf fandom, i posted maybe 5 total fics and had this massive doc with half-finished ideas that never saw the light of day
since i started posting almost a year ago (i think the first steddie fic i posted was on Feb 28) i have posted 64 fics/ficlets! that's insane!!
Hi I don’t have a question I just love your blog. And also I keep misreading your username as chicken and I like to imagine there’s just a tiny intelligent bird filling up my feed with Harry Potter memes
HELLO thank you for this wonderful ask that made me laugh, but I have also been postponing answering it for THREE literal months because I just knew that @queenofthyme and @jadepresley would get way too much joy out of the fact that you call me chicken in your head, and it is my life’s mission to bring those two AS LITTLE JOY AT MY EXPENSE as possible!!
(I do love that you think of me as a tiny intelligent bird though. In reality I’m a large ridiculous yeti filling up your feed with Harry Potter memes)
