He’s Stealthy, Like A Ninja

Eddie hisses when the antiseptic hits the gash on his forearm. “Jesus— ow, ow, nurse Harrington, careful—”

“Quit squirming or I’ll make it worse,” Steve mutters but he’s already easing up and blowing on the cut like that’ll actually help. Somehow for Eddie it does. Eddie watches him work. Steve’s brow is furrowed, lip caught between his teeth in concentration. There’s a bruise blooming on Steve’s own jaw that he’s completely ignoring.

Steve shifts to check Eddie’s ribs and fingers ghosting over a nasty purple splotch. He lingers and Eddie’s mouth runs before his brain can stop it “You gonna kiss it better, big boy?”

It’s meant as a joke. Deflection. His usual armor. But Steve doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t roll his eyes. He just looks up through his lashes, and his voice goes quiet.

“Would that help?”

Eddie’s brain short circuits right there All the smartass replies die in his throat.

“Steve—”

Steve’s thumb brushes the unbruised skin just beside the bruise, careful as ever . “‘Cause I would. If you asked me too.”

Obviously, there's about sixty-eleven options to choose for this poll lol, so please don't yell at me too much for not including your fave! 🙏 I had to cut sooooo many of my personal faves 😭 In order to be fair, I didn't count remakes or sequels (different adaptions of a book doesn't count as a "remake", ie The Secret Garden).

Incorrect Stranger Things - 21/?

inspired by @nancywheelesbian x

Spin the wheel again. That’s who’s trying to protect you.

(If you have zero idea about a name you got, spin until you see someone you recognize.)

There was a boy playing with his band, Steve doesn’t remember their name, but he remembers watching this kid play his guitar. It was like he was the only person in the entire universe. He kept whipping and shaking his head. Steve is sure that if his hair wasn’t buzzed, it’d be wild and big.

He knows the kid gets picked on, it’s because he stands out. But he doesn’t seem sorry for standing out, he wears it like a badge of honor. It makes Steve’s cheeks burn with jealousy.

They’re burning now just thinking about it, so he pushes his face into the pillow he’s holding. Steve has never felt like this about anyone in his life. He knows it’s not possible though, because the kid on stage was a boy, and Steve is a boy. He’s supposed to like girls.

But as he lays awake in his room, late in the night, he thinks about holding that boys hand. He thinks about touching his buzzed hair. He thinks about standing in the boys space.

Even worse, he thinks about taking up space. He thinks about meeting the boys family, he wonders if he has any siblings. He thinks about meeting his friends. He thinks about going to the movies, and secretly holding his hand in the dark.

But, of course, none of this happens. Steve can’t like boys.

Instead, he loses his virginity as a freshman at an upperclassman’s party. He gets popular. He gets a reputation. He gets girls.

He doesn’t get Eddie “The Freak” Munson because he’s King Steve “The Hair” Harrington.

Robin and Eddie are fake dating and Steve is going insane over it. He is slowly developing feelings for Eddie, which he denies to himself.

Instead he projects his feelings for Eddie towards Robin because when Eddie is there he gets jealous. So obviously he is jealousy is towards him right?

When Robin comes out to him, after he tell her hes in love with her at startcourt.

Steve is like??????? But Eddie???????

The way he reacts make Robin say something like "if you ever wanna talk about something, to like someone who understands, you know where to find me."

And right she is. After Steve has settled a little into his own mind he comes over and tells her about his dilemma, Robin helps him clear his head up and kicked his ass to talk to Eddie.

Steddie // Modern AU // Meet Ugly // 2,447k words

“Badge for security clearance, please.”

The man stops in front of Steve, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as he looks Steve up and down. Steve continues to chew his gum, giving the man a bored look before blowing a bubble and letting it pop.

“Um, I’m Eddie,” Eddie, apparently, places a hand on his own chest like that’s explanation enough. “Eddie Munson?” 

“Hi, Eddie,” Steve swaps the gum from one side of his mouth to the other. “Badge for security clearance, please.” 

“I don’t have a badge, dude,” Eddie chuckles awkwardly. “Badges are for assistants and technicians. I’m a performer. If I do have a badge, it’s likely in the green room. I'll tell you what, let me through and I’ll gladly hunt it down for you.”

Steve stops Eddie from moving forward by placing two finger tips on his sternum, gently pushing him back. He blows another bubble, holding back a grin as he watches Eddie’s eye twitch like he can’t believe Steve’s audacity.

“No badge for security clearance, no entrance to the venue,” Steve explains flatly as he drops his hand away. “Sorry dude, them’s the breaks.”

“But I’m a prefor-” 

“Even "performers" need badges to gain access backstage,” Steve uses his fingers to make air quotes before crossing his arms back over his chest. “Please make your way down to the front entrance and take it up with the head office if you want.”

Eddie stands there, stunned before laughing with disbelief.

“But I’m Eddie,” Eddie throws his hands up. “This is ridiculous, I’m headlining this fucking show!”  

“And I’m Steve,” Steve tilts his head to the side, widening his eyes and talking slowly like he’s speaking to someone particularly stupid. “Steve with security. Which means if you don’t have a badge for security clearance, I can’t let you in. Simple math, Eddie.”

“It’s obvious you don’t know this, and that’s fine, but I’m kind of a big deal around here,” Eddie squints at Steve, his smile sarcastic. “Like I said, I’m headlining this show and I really need to get back there so I can get ready for the performance tonight. Surely you’ve heard of the headliner for the show you’re working on since you take your job so seriously.”

“Of course,” Steve says, his face indifferent. “His name is Kas. He plays with Corroded Coffin, who are all already backstage. I swiped their badges earlier. Nice guys.” 

“I know they’re nice guys, they’re my band, and that’s my stage name,” Eddie grits out. “Which I would love to prove to you but you have to let me back there in order to do that.”

Steve doesn’t respond, continuing to chew his gum while Eddie scrubs at his face out of frustration.

“Under different circumstances, this little bitchy indifference act would really work on me but as it stands I actually need to get back stage so I can do my fucking job.”

“No badge, no-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it, thank you so much,” Eddie interrupts him, waving him off. “You’re an immovable pillar of securital integrity, your parents must be very proud.”

Steve feels expression tighten slightly, not dignifying Eddie with a response as Eddie continues glares up at him. 

“Who even added you onto the security team? I don’t remember seeing you before tonight,” Eddie squints at Steve suspiciously. “See, I take pride in knowing everyone on my team. It’s a courtesy thing.” 

“Dustin Henderson added me tonight because someone called out sick and I owed him a favor,” Steve explains boredly, privately mourning the loss of flavor in his gum. He’d have to grab a new stick as soon as he got rid of this persistent weirdo. “He’s the head technician and an old friend of mine. Since it’s your team and you know everyone, why don’t you just give them a call and have someone grab your badge for you?”

“That-” Eddie responds hotly, pointing a finger in Steve’s face before hesitating as soon as he’s taken in what Steve’s said. “-is a great idea, actually. Why the fuck didn’t I think of that?”

Steve quirks an eyebrow, continuing to chew his hardened, dull gum as he watches Eddie fish around in his pockets for his phone. 

Eddie pats his front pockets and then the back ones, grumbling to himself as his eyebrows furrow. His expression turns frantic as he slaps his palms over the decorated vest he’s wearing. He checks the inner pockets of the vest before dropping his hands back down to his pants pockets again.

Steve swallows his gum and shifts his weight from one hip to the other, his eyebrow raising even higher as Eddie continues feeling around for a phone that’s clearly not there.

“...Okay, so the thing is, I might have left my phone on-”

“Look, man,” Steve interrupts with a tired huff. “It’s clear that you really want to get back there so this band must mean a lot to you, which I can appreciate. But this is not the way to go about this. The Corroded Coffin guys seem like good dudes, I’m sure they’ll make an appearance at the stage door tonight after the show if you wanted to get some merch signed. But my friends are working on this show and I’m not going to let some random guy back there and potentially put people I care about in danger, okay?”

Eddie’s face falls from angry to sheepishly and guilty.

“Okay,” Eddie says with a tone of defeat. “Okay, that's fair. I have to hand it to you, you’re really good at your job, Steve. Normally, I would appreciate and commend you for but right now it’s kind of fucking up my whole evening.”

“Sorry,” Steve says with a small shrug. “Dustin would never let me hear the end of it if I messed this up for him. This job means the world to him.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty good at it too. Don’t tell him I said that though, he’ll turn into such a smug little bastard,” Eddie says with a forlorn sigh before his eyes widen with realization. “Wait! Dustin! You said he’s your friend, right?”

“Right,” Steve raises an eyebrow.

“Which means you have his phone number, right?” 

“Right,” Steve says again, his expression turning guarded. “It would be weird if I didn’t. It’s not like pen pals are super in these days.”

Eddie lets out a cackle of success, leaning into Steve’s space with a wide grin.

“Let me borrow your phone. I’ll call him and prove I’m not some freak groupie,” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with glee and mischief.  “Then would you let me backstage, Mister Doorkeep?”

“No,” Steve moves subtly back, his face heating up at Eddie’s close proximity. “Because you still won’t have a badge I can scan. Maybe I would if Dustin came down here and confirmed it but-”

“That’s fine, whatever works,” Eddie interrupts, holding his open hand out in front of him expectantly. “Your mobile device, if you would be so kind?”

Steve stares down at Eddie’s open palm, glancing back up at him with a doubtful grimace. 

“Come on, big boy. I won’t run off with it, I promise,” Eddie tilts his head to the side with a teasing grin. “Besides, even if I did you could probably catch me in, like, two seconds. Your thighs are insane, by the way. Do you run track in your spare time?”

“No, I coach a swim team for middle schoolers,” Steve says with an embarrassed frown. “All the flirting in the world isn’t going to save you if you actually run off with my phone, though. I will tackle you to the ground the second I think you’re going to run for it, I’m not kidding.”

“Promise, promises,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows as he watches Steve fetch his phone from his back pocket. “Thanks, Doll. You’re a life saver.” 

Steve grumbles under his breath as he watches Eddie type in a number, taking the free moment to fetch his pack of gum out of his pocket. He’s unwrapping a new piece out of its foil when Eddie glances back over at him.

“Ew, dude, did you swallow your gum?” Eddie asks, his nose scrunched up in distaste as the phone rings. “That’s gross.”

“Well, I’m not going to spit it on the ground,” Steve shoots him a look back, stuffing the new stick in his mouth. “That’s gross. I’m not some kind of animal.” 

“That gum is going to be in your stomach until you die, you know that right?” Eddie says with a haughty little shimmy of his shoulders. “The coroner will have to pump it out of you someday.”

“What? No way, that’s totally a myth-”

“Dustin!” Eddie cheerfully interrupts Steve as someone picks up. “Hey buddy, can you do me a favor? Tall, broad, and handsome here won’t let me through the stage door without a badge. Will you come grab me?”

Steve watches as Eddie listens to whoever's on the other line. 

“I told him that and he politely told me to fuck off,” Eddie glances over at Steve with a grin. “He said he values the safety of his friends or something ridiculous like that. Yeah, he’s a real peach. How long do you think it’ll be before you’re down here? I gotta make it to sound-”

Eddie’s interrupted by the door being yanked open behind Steve.

“-check.” Eddie finishes with a grin, hanging up the phone.

Dustin wheezes breathlessly behind Steve, leaning on the door frame with both arms.

“Holy shit, dude, did you run all the way down here from the sound booth?” Eddie hands his phone back to Steve who moves to the side so they can both stare at Dustin as he tries to catch his breath.

Dustin holds one hand out in front of him in the universal sign of ‘Just one moment please’ as he pulls out an inhaler and squeezes it before breathing in deep.

“Jesus, Dustin,” Steve says, rubbing his back with a concerned frown. 

“I’ve been looking for you-” Dustin grits out between wheezes. “-for an hour.”

“Don’t look at me like that, no one told me we added security badges.” Eddie holds up his hands in mock defense.

“Yeah, because you’d lose it and that would be another issue entirely.” Dustin glares up at him before snapping his gaze over to Steve. “And you!-”

“Oh brother, here we go-”

“-What the hell is the matter with you?!” Dustin throws his hands above his head in disbelief.  “How could you not know what the lead singer of the band you’re working for looks like?” 

“Well, it’s not like I was shown pictures,” Steve huffs back, crossing his arms over his chest with a defensive glare. “They told me no one without a badge can get in so I didn’t let anyone without a badge in. Sorry for doing my job.” 

Dustin groans, scrubbing at his face before moving out of the way and jabbing his finger down the hallway.

“You, get to hair and make up-” Dustin glares at Eddie before turning to Steve. “-and you! We’re having words later, so help me god.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns away, mocking Dustin by repeating him under his breath with a high pitched voice. Eddie stares at him with enamored disbelief.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re perfect?” Eddie leans in close again, his smile growing as Steve looks at him with an annoyed frown. “Now that I can go, I almost want to stay.”

“Lucky me,” Steve says flatly. “And yeah, people call me perfect all the time. Why, did you think you were special for saying so?”

“Steve!” Dustin stares at him with a look that could kill. “What the hell is wrong with you? Come on, Eddie, ignore him.”

Eddie bites his lower lip, staring at Steve for a long moment before holding out his palm expectantly in front of him.

“...What?” Steve shoots a look down at Eddie’s palm. “I’m not giving you any gum after you were so rude about it earlier. Go find your own.”

“I want your phone, Dove,” Eddie explains with a silky voice. “So I can put my number in and call you after the show. I wanna tell you things that’ll make you think I’m real special.” 

“Oh, you’re special, alright,” Steve scoffs but digs his phone out of his pocket to hand to Eddie anyway. “Just not the kind of special you think.”

“God, you’re such a bitch,” Eddie says with a pleased little laugh as he types in his number. “What are your thoughts on marriage? There’s a chapel down the street.” 

“That’s a synagogue,” Steve rolls his eyes as he takes his phone back. “I’m not Jewish. Are you?”

“No, but it doesn’t matter,” Eddie leans in even closer, incredibly pleased to see blush taking over Steve’s face. “I’d marry you in a gas station parking lot, if you’d let me.”

“Promises, promises,” Steve says back, a light reminder of their flirting earlier. “Don’t you have a show to get to?” 

“Well, you told me I couldn’t get in without a badge,” Eddie grips the railing behind Steve with both hands, caging him in. “Guess I’m stuck out here with you until that gets rectified, right?” 

“Mm, I did say that didn’t I?” Steve looks down at Eddie through his lashes.

“You sure did,” Eddie licks his lips and leans in closer. “Dustin, will you be a dear and go grab that for me?”

“What? No, it’ll take me, like, thirty minutes to find that stupid thing. I’m not running around backstage just so you two can schmooze-”

“Thanks, pal, you’re a real dear,” Eddie sing songs before reaching out and closing the door in Dustin’s face. “Now, what do you think we can get up to in thirty minutes before the little squirt gets back?” 

“Certainly not marriage,” Steve snorts. “That’ll take an hour, at least.” 

“How about I tell you I want to get through that door real bad-” Eddie walks his finger tips down Steve’s chest, stopping to tap lightly at his belt buckle. “-and then show you all the things I’d be willing to do to get through it.”

Steve cocks his head to the side with a look of indifference but Eddie can see how heavy his breathing has gotten.

“No badge for security clearance, no entrance to the venue,” Steve says with a low voice, reaching out to tuck a loose curl behind Eddie’s ear.

for @corrodedcoffinfest day 3 prompt 'tv trays' (It's late, but I wrote this for my wife @dreamwatch so idgaf)

Prompt #3 - TV Tray | Word Count: 520 | Rating: idk, it's harmless | POV: Wayne

Roast beef, mashed taters, and string beans. And something he guesses they consider gravy, but it looks like if given enough of a zap it could come to life. It smells good, looks… okay, and tastes… well, he’s bracing himself for that one.

It took 20 minutes in their too-small, trailer-home oven and after a 12-hour shift that was a little too long, but he’s just worked a 12-hour shift so eating comes first.

The TV was making sounds in the living room as he rounded up everything he needed. The foil-covered oven meal, his cutlery, and a Blue Ribbon from the fridge. The laughter from the TV sounded tinny and packaged, then rolled into an advert that was 10 decibels louder. Why do they do that? Why, so you could hear them selling whatever it is they’re selling while you’re making your TV meal in the kitchen.

Wayne Munson was tired. Dead tired. But tonight was not a night to go to bed as soon as he got in. He’d showered, forced himself to get dinner together, and had turned the show on that Eddie had told him to watch. Some late night show on a community cable channel he’s surprised they even had. Their cable package was the cheapest they could afford, but it had the AAA baseball - go Indians! – and some random documentary channels he could watch on Sundays, so it was all good. And apparently, this community talk show thing – Come On, Indiana or something – and right now some young fellas were laughing with the handful of other people in the studio about something or other.

He pulled the coffee table closer to his chair and put his TV tray down, clattered the cutlery and swigged his PBR while he settled in. This better be worth it.

The time was ticking down to 1am when finally, the young fools on the idiot box stopped larking around, turning to the camera and made the announcement Wayne had waited up for.

“Ok! Tonight, for the first time anywhere on television, we have a local band - well, kinda local - making their debut performance for us tonight. They’re 4 young guys from Hawkins, they play some nasty metal, and they’re going to be memorable we’re sure… ladies and gentlemen, Corroded Coffin!”

Wayne sat up a little straighter without even thinking about it. The camera cut to Eddie, silhouetted in a corner of the studio, and suddenly that god-awful sound they make ripped through his TV’s tiny speaker.

“…Jesus Christ.”

Then the lights went on, the music exploded as all four landed on a riff in sync, and Waynes heart almost lept from his chest with pride. There was his boy. And the other three idiots.

He couldn’t understand a word Jeff was singing, and the music was damn atrocious, but it was his boy.

He spooned a chunk of limp beef and salty mash into his mouth, a PBR wash-down, and he found his traitorous foot tapping along to the music.

Written for the @steddie-spooktober Summerween prompt “I know what you did last summer” | wc: 581 | rated: T | cw: references to past sexual relationship, period-typical homophobia | tags: post-S3 AU, alternate S4, former fuckbuddies (maybe with some feels on Steve’s side at least)

———

Eddie is watching him.

He’s sitting in the old boathouse, shaking with terror and grief as he recounts what happened to Chrissy, and he’s still tracking all of Steve’s movements like prey in fear of a predator.

What does he think Steve is going to do? Point at Eddie and out him to everyone? Announce in front of Dustin, Max, and Robin that he and Eddie spent half of the previous summer screwing each other’s brains out? Kick him and call him names and—?

The thought makes bile rise in Steve’s throat. Eddie knows him better than that, right? He knows Steve’s body, his taste, his preferences, probably better than anyone else ever has. Surely he doesn’t think Steve is a violent homophobe.

But Steve also knows how the weirdness of Hawkins can shut down logical thought and make you forget everything you once knew. Once the laws of nature go out the window, how can you trust anything else? Steve aches to reassure Eddie, to tell him he understands and to offer what little comfort he can provide.

Instead, he’s stuck on the other side of the boathouse, catching Eddie’s guarded gaze and trying to communicate without words: it’s okay, you can trust me, let me help you.

Robin: *so excited by the knowledge that Eddie definitely wants to marry Steve too, but then remembers that Steve has a whole romantic weekend planned out-including roses, champagne, a steak dinner, scented candles, a bubble bath, and a first edition Master of Puppets vinyl signed by the band-and promptly has an internal freakout because she doesn't want Steve's hard work to go to waste*

Robin: no way, I can't let you ruin his plan!

Eddie: Robin: