steddiehasmywholeheart

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

You know how sometimes you think of a scene that belongs in a long fic, so you write the fic just so you can share that scene that started it all? I had one of those scenes come to me today, but you're not getting a full fic. Eddie is caught posing as Princess Nancy and is brought before Prince Steve.

Steven is going over the plans for the kingdom's expansion when the door slams open and Thomas and Jason step through. They appear furious, and held between them is Nancy, only- only she's half dressed, and she appears to be a he.

“What's the meaning of this?” Steven asks as he steps around the table, and the two men throw their captive to the ground before him. He crumples in a heap but still attempts to right his clothes where they've been torn from his person, trying to recover a bit of modesty.

“This imposter,” Thomas spits, “has been deceiving you. Carol saw him in the bath yesterday and discovered his truth. He's been posing as princess Nancy for his own sick gain and he must be properly punished for this indiscretion.”

“He should be hanged for it,” Jason says, his tone full of venom. Said imposter looks up, clearly terrified at the possibility, and his eyes plead with Steve as he says “My lord, please-”

“Silence!” Steven snaps, and all three go quiet. He looks between Thomas and Jason before giving the command of “Leave us. Now.”

The two men nod and each shoot the stranger a vile look before they exit the room. The prince stares down at the man, at this charlatan brought before him, and can only feel a sense of betrayal from someone he'd quickly grown to care for.

“Explain.”

The man takes a shaky inhale before he begins. “My name is Eddie- Edward. Nancy is my half-sister. When she received the news of her betrothal to you, she was concerned about your character. There were- rumors. I volunteered to take her place, to learn your true nature so she could make an informed decision about your union without having to abandon her duties.”

He looks properly ashamed of his actions, but it doesn't stop Steven's heart from breaking. Instead of falling in love with Nancy over these last weeks, he'd fallen for a farce, a sham.

“What was your plan for after? If you'd decided I was acceptable for her?”

Eddie hesitates, but says “She was going to return herself and reveal the truth to you.”

“And what? Pray that I wouldn't take offense to being tested?” He scoffs, and Eddie winces at the sound.

“Thomas and Jason were right,” Steven says, unable to keep the hurt from bleeding into his voice. “You were lying to me.”

The man looks up at him, his gaze open and pleading once more. “Only about my intentions. I swear to you, where my feelings are concerned, I've only ever spoken the truth. I'm- I was never supposed to fall for you myself.”

It echoes what Eddie-as-Nancy told him the other night as they walked through the gardens, the soft ‘I do believe I'm falling for you, your majesty,’ meant only for Steven and the roses and the stars. He thinks about the hours, the days he's spent with this person. With this man, who has shown Steven a mere glimpse of the love he's always dreamed of.

“This plot is the most foolish, most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of,” Steve says, and Eddie's head drops with a sob. Steve feels weak at the sound, and he falls to his knees before Eddie. He takes the man's hands in his own, and shining brown eyes look up at him in disbelief. 

“But I would be truly foolish to let you go. All I've wanted in life is for someone to love me for my truest self. You’ve shown me a future where that desire is not just a dream.” 

Eddie sobs again as Steven pushes a hand into those wild curls and tugs him closer, resting their foreheads together. “Sorry- I'm so sorry-” he stutters, and Steve shakes his head.

#wow #this is amazing #inspired #and so beautiful

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope

cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse

-

The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.

Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.

“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”

“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.

“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.

Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”

As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”

Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.

Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”

“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”

His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”

“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.

“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.

“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.

“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”

Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.

“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”

Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.

“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”

“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”

Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”

“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.

Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.

Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.

“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”

Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”

The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”

He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–

Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.

It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.

Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.

(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)

(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”

Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).

“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”

Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.

“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.

“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.

Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.

When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.

It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.

“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.

“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”

“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”

“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.

“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”

Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”

In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.

He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.

[Prompt: Embracing your partner]

#🥺🥺🥺🥺

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs

For @astrangersummer prompt 'short shorts'

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (pre-relationship)

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C - 848

Tags: Post Season 4 Volume 2, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, flirting, Steve Harrington wears short shorts, summer, pool party, sun bathing, water balloons, Steve Harrington's thighs, Eddie Munson is suffering

Summary: Steve sunbathes in the tiniest shorts Hawkins has ever seen. Eddie tries and fails to keep his cool.

___

Eddie was suffering.

Not just from the heat of the midday sun baking him alive, or from the way his hair was practically glued to his sweat-slick neck.

No, the worst of his suffering was caused by Steve Harrington’s thighs.

They were going to kill him.

Eddie couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t, he just had to keep glancing over at where the other boy was lying in the grass, skin bare except for the tiniest pair of shorts Eddie had ever seen. They barely covered the top half of his thighs for fuck’s sake, what was even the point in them…

The guy’s naked chest and torso had already done a number on Eddie. But when Steve had laid down, stretched out to sunbathe in his backyard, those already-skimpy shorts had ridden up even higher, revealing a slightly paler strip of skin stretched tight over lean muscle and Eddie had had to sit on his damn hands to stop himself from reaching out and just touching…

A water balloon smacked into the side of Eddie’s face, momentarily dragging his attention away from Steve’s hairy thighs.

Luckily for Dustin, who was standing with his hands on his hips nearby and rolling his eyes at Eddie, the balloon hadn’t burst. If it had, Eddie might’ve strangled the kid himself.

“Hey, we said no water balloons near us!” Robin grumbled, sitting up to glare at the kid.

“I called your name three times,” Dustin complained to Eddie. “Not my fault you were too busy staring at Steve.”

Eddie’s eyes darted sideways, sensing movement from Steve. The boy cracked open an eye to give Eddie a brief glance, then closed it again, the tiniest smirk spreading across his face.

“I was not, you little shrimp,” Eddie snapped. “Now what do you want?”

“Come throw the rings into the pool for me? Lucas and Mike keep grabbing them before I can reach them, and I want to try and dive for them.”

Eddie snorted. “What are you, a fucking dolphin?”

“Language,” Steve mumbled lazily, not opening his eyes.

“Apologies, my liege, I’ll try to keep my language appropriate around your little charges.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie stood, wincing a little as he reached up to touch his rapidly reddening shoulders. Unlike Steve, he wasn’t gifted with a natural golden glow to his skin. He was pasty, usually sheet-white.

And now, he was steadily burning to a crisp.

Grumbling under his breath, Eddie stole one last look at the prone Steve, let his eyes run over his form for as long as he thought he could get away with. He could wax poetry about his thighs, about his torso, about the moles dotting his chest and stomach like constellations…

“Eddie?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, Steve?” His response came out as almost a squeak.

“You’re burnt. Once you’re finished entertaining Dustin, come back and get some sunblock on, I’ll help with your shoulders.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. Because that meant Steve would have his hands on him, all sun-warm as he spread sunblock across Eddie’s sensitive skin…

Steve opened his eyes then, rolling over to face Eddie and propping his head up on his hand with his elbow bent.

“And then after that, you can do my back.”

He fucking winked.

Eddie backpeddled, nodding quickly then turning around and doing his best to not trip over his feet as he scrambled after Dustin.

“Dude, you’re the least subtle person I’ve ever seen,” Dustin whispered to him as they walked towards the pool.

“Shut up.”

Eddie threw the rings half-heartedly into the pool, Dustin diving for them in a…not so impressive display of athleticism, but he would emerge eventually and toss the colourful rings back at Eddie, the other kids watching on.

As it tended to do, Eddie’s attention drifted back to Steve.

He was up now, chasing Robin around in the grass with the still-intact water balloon in hand. Robin was shrieking and trying to slap at him with her book, sunglasses flying from her hair. Steve hurled the water balloon, but it slapped against Robin’s back and plopped to the ground without breaking again.

Lightning quick, Robin picked it up and threw it hard back at Steve.

It smacked onto Steve’s chest and burst.

Eddie’s wide eyes drifted down.

Steve’s tiny shorts were now soaked, Robin doubled over with laughter as the water trickled down his torso and collected at the waistband.

Eddie’s gaze followed the path of water through Steve’s chest hair, down the soft planes of his stomach and small swell of his abdominal muscles, tracking past the healing scars on his sides…

When he looked up again, Steve’s eyes were on him.

Just as Eddie was trying to craft an excuse as to why he was openly ogling the guy again, Steve swiped the bottle of sunblock from the grass, holding it up with a little wiggle to Eddie, a slow grin spreading across his face.

Eddie dropped Dustin’s rings into the water without looking, ignoring the kid’s protests, and strode towards Steve.

The other boy’s smile spread wider, his eyes twinkling.

Eddie was fucked.

___

#fucking amazing #as is everything you write

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2

pt. 1

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.

He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.

Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.

Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.

Little shit.

Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.

Looking at you, Lucas.

Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.

Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.

Until he did, with Eddie.

Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.

Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.

Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.

"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.

Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"

"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.

Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.

She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.

Fuck, he loved her.

"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.

Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.

"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.

"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.

Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.

"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."

It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.

Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.

Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"

Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"

Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."

Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."

Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.

Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."

Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."

Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"

"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."

"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.

Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.

"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."

Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.

Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.

Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.

Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.

"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.

"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."

Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"

"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.

Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."

Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."

The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."

Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."

Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"

It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."

"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.

Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.

Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec

@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch

@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso

(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)

#this is so amazing #i would love a tag if you could #thanks for writing such a wonderful piece

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

Steve walks into his and Robin’s shared living room in the middle of the night to get a glass of water.

Mid gulp, Steve’s hears a soft “hey.”

Steve has only four years of the Upside Down to thank for not dropping his glass and shattering it everywhere. He knows the dangers of a little cut.

It doesn’t help the startled scream he releases.

Steve stares at his couch in horror as the intruder turns the light on.

Robins feet pound quickly into the living room, a metal baseball bat in her hands, “What do I need to kill?”

Steve says nothing. Instead, he points at their couch, where Robin turns and lets out a small gasp.

Because in the middle of their living room is Eddie Munson, famous rockstar and, more importantly, ex-best friend of Steve and Robin, who they haven’t heard from since 1991, sitting on their couch.

Shit.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

now with part 2!

#ooooh the intrigue!

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

STWG daily prompt 12/10/23

prompt: octopus

pairing/character(s): steddie

i love autistic coding my blorbos

-

Steve loves aquariums. Something about just standing there and watching the aquatic life swim around soothes him. He can (and has) watched tanks for hours before. Especially the huge ones with the tunnel going through them; he loves watching the sharks and stingrays swim over him.

It’s something that he’s a little embarrassed about now. He’s sharing his favourite relaxing activity with Eddie for the first time, and he really doesn’t want Eddie to be bored. It’s not technically a date, but they’re there together and they’re holding hands, so Steve’s counting it in his mental list of dates with Eddie Munson.

“You’re not bored are you?” He checks after a few minutes of standing in front of his favourite tank, hands fluttering unsurely at his sides.

He asks because Eddie’s not been looking at the tank. Steve’s felt his eyes on him most of the time they’ve been stood there.

“No, baby.” Eddie promises with a soft chuckle, and Steve drags his eyes away from the creatures to squint at Eddie in confusion. In response, he only gets a fond grin.

“I’m no good at reading between the lines, Eds.” He reminds him, and Eddie nods slowly.

“You like looking at the fish, I like looking at you.” Eddie explains after a moment, cheeks a little pink. Steve feels his own cheeks heat up, and averts his eyes from Eddie to continue looking at the tank.

He spots something coming closer to the glass and gasps, because it’s his favourite. An octopus, who comes right up to the glass and settles right there in Steve’s view. His hands flutter at his sides again, a little more aggressively in his happiness.

“Hey, those are your favourite, right?” Eddie asks, and Steve just nods, refusing to look away from the beautiful creature.

“It’s beautiful.” He says, voice a little breathless.

“You’re beautiful.” Eddie says in response.

Steve’s cheeks heat up again.

#🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

Swept Off His Feet

@steddiemicrofic

written for ‘Charm’ | wc: 548 | rated: T

Eddie has been waiting for the infamous Harrington charm. Nancy had warned him about it, even; she’d said that Steve laid it on a little thick sometimes, but that his heart was in the right place. He’s been waiting for held doors and dorky ‘allow me’s and bouquets of flowers or whatever, all the normie heterosexual stuff that he’s rolled his eyes through at the movies. 

And because it’s Steve, Eddie has sworn to himself that he won’t roll his eyes at any of it.

Except it never comes. Steve is just Steve, a little goofy and a little vain about his hair and very physically affectionate. Eddie has never been cuddled up to this much in his life, and he tries to show his appreciation of that as much as possible.

He jumps out of whichever car they’re in first as soon on as it’s in park, loping around to Steve’s door and bowing him out of the vehicle in the King-Steve-and-court-jester but that makes Steve roll his eyes and put his hands on his hips and try to hide a grin.

He comes up behind Steve when he’s cooking (careful to time it so that nothing will spill) and catches him around the middle, lifting and spinning and showing off muscles he has from lugging around amps and shit for years, and Steve always yells and slaps at him and kisses him hard after. 

He sleuths out Steve’s favorite color and turns up one day with a bunch of seed packets mixed into one mystery baggie, and they spend the entire afternoon up to their elbows in pots and dirt planting them. Steve calls him all excited when the first shoots start to emerge. Weeks later, when they bloom into bunches of bright yellows and oranges, Steve drags him in from the front door by a handful of faded band tee and does wonderfully dirty things with his mouth right there in the entryway. 

He even buys Steve tickets to a basketball game in Chicago (Wayne helped with that one). They say money can’t buy happiness, but government hush money sure as hell bought him those tickets, all kinds of stadium refreshments, and a ridiculous foam finger that Steve doesn’t take off until they get back to the van and wait out the post-game traffic in the back. 

“You know,” Eddie says to Nancy at one point, “it’s weird. Steve is great, but he’s never tried to, like . . . woo me or whatever.”

Nancy, who has become to him what Robin is to Steve, looks over with a wry smile and then goes back to watching the rest of the older Party members’ antics in the pool. There’s an epic game of chicken that’s about to break the five minute mark, with Steve on Argyle’s shoulders and Robin on Jonathan’s and more ridiculous shit-talking than actual fighting.

“I guess you beat him to it,” she says lightly. “It’s good though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.”

And when Eddie thinks back over everything, he realizes that . . . yeah, he has, hasn’t he? He’s opened doors for Steve and given him flowers and swept him off his feet, and never once felt like rolling his eyes at any of it.

#cuteness 🥺

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

Thinking about Steve, gracious, kind, emotionally intelligent Steve, growing up with a father who used to spit 'Sorry's not good enough' at him whenever he did something wrong. Thinking about him knowing enough to not let that prevent him apologising to people when he needs to, until Eddie. Until he's desperately in love like never before, but he's just had the biggest fight of his life, and he's suddenly terrified that if he utters those two words, the love of his life who is clearly still frazzled and mad, will somehow turn into his dad and end the best thing he's ever had. Thinking about him suddenly starting to cry, and Eddie being so, so confused. Thinking about Eddie realising there's a whole other level to Steve's abandonment issues, and just holding him as he reassures him, time and time again, that sorry is always good enough for him.

#steddie #steddie hc #my steddie stuff

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

Eddie walked past the two guys manning the door of the fraternity, they each sent him the standard passive nod of acceptance that Eddie had grown less and less suspicious of over time. He didn’t actually go to the university, but he and the guys in his band lived nearby because the university had a decent music scene that they benefited from and Gareth was a little brainiac getting his degree while their band kept steadily growing.

And along with a good music scene came a good party scene.

Eddie and the guys had been inside most of the frats and sororities on campus and the bars and such nearby, but for almost any of the frats they were only allowed in as a band, not as regular people.

They could be the entertainment but apparently most of the hoity toity frat dude bros didn’t want to be intermingling with guys like Eddie when they were trying to get fucked up or fuck. That didn’t mean that Eddie didn’t try though, it wouldn’t be the first or probably the last time he snuck into a party for his own desires when he was less than wanted on the premises.

Eta Delta Nu had a rather mean looking squarish shaped guy blocking the door to the house when Eddie had his first pass of the premises that was keeping a bunch of over eager freshmen from entering without dipping both their hands in what Eddie hoped was concentrated blue koolaid in either a weird hazing ritual or something oddly culty. Eddie hadn’t been a huge fan of the vibes of the frat but if he got in and could have a drink and get a few sales then he would take what he could get because there were only three frats on campus so he couldn’t be picky or choosy.

He had made it inside for all of ten minutes at ΗΔΝ before Mr. Square had cast a fucking shadow over him and Eddie split like an overeager banana.

The next weekend he made his way to the smallest frat on campus, skipping the oldest and most well-regarded frat because he had little faith that he’d have any luck there. It was Sigma Rho Psi and there was a party well underway when Eddie had arrived. Whoever was usually watching the door was briefly absent while Eddie was staking the place out so he took the opportunity.

The frat was less culty than ΗΔΝ, but where the previous one was populated by the football and other most committed athlete guys, Σ𝛲Ѱ was the frat guys. The guys who didn’t really have all that much going for them other than daddy’s money and time. Eddie had certainly gotten some looks when he was there but no one made a move to kick him out.

They had all been far too stoned to make a move to do just about anything.

They already had some high-end hookups for their drugs making Σ𝛲Ѱ a rather lackluster business opportunity for Eddie.

That had left him with Beta Alpha Tau.

Eddie had heard a variety of things about the frat from as many sources. That the guests allowed inside for parties were heavily monitored, that the frat king himself was just another rich boy there on daddy’s dime and didn’t care about anything other than parties and girls, that the frat let freshies in to get fucked up for the older frat members’ enjoyment.

BAT was a frat decorated in a plethora of red flags and definitely very concentrated in basketball guys who Eddie was wary of if only because of how similar they always seemed to be to the footballers.

But it was Eddie’s last chance at striking gold at a frat for his own business endeavour and also just to have a place to slip into from one odd weekend to another to have a drink to let off some steam. The only thing making him slightly less weary was the fact that the frat was called BAT, Eddie liked bats, and had some tatted on him after all.

He started hanging around outside of the frat just outside of the two guys watching the door, they didn’t have a list or anything as far as Eddie could tell but only about a third of the people who went up to the door would be let in.

Eddie couldn’t determine the exact state of all the people trying to get in but he was able to make a couple observations in the forty or so minutes he sat there for. A couple guys who were already fairly fucked up got turned away, a beautiful young woman who tried to flirt her way inside met a similar fate, but a gaggle of freshmen who seemed to know the guys at the door got let in as well as a pair of brunettes who were walking practically wrapped around each other.

It was a confusing set of data. He decided to keep monitoring the frat from the outside for a bit longer before he’d try sneaking in.

The next weekend there were two guys at the door again, one the same and one new. Eddie watched who was let in and who wasn’t and was starting to get something of a feel for how BAT picked and chose its guests and he wasn’t mad about what he was putting together as their criteria that many others were mad about.

It was difficult to get reliable information from other people on the frat was what he was finding out. The basketball guys for the most part were all either members of the frat or frequent guests but a select few had somehow earned themselves a ban from the premises so information from them was to be taken with a grain of salt.

There wasn’t an open door policy for any freshmen to get in, but they seemed to have a fairly easy time comparatively and the one time Eddie was still up- insomnia was a bitch- around the time BAT called it a night for a party the people who made their way out of the house seemed to range from passible for sober to buzzed. Either no one was blacking out in BAT or those individuals just weren’t making their way out onto the street in that state.

The one other thing Eddie looked into before making an attempt to get inside was the frat king.

Steve Harrington.

Son of some rich guy that was apparently well known for some sort of something- Eddie didn’t really care all that much about that kind of information- and assistant captain of the basketball team. He was doing some sort of five year degree and he started after taking a gap year after high school. He somehow nabbed the frat king position right early on from the impression Eddie got, taking on the mantle when the previous king’s replacement turned out to be a dud.

Eddie wasn’t certain how often people could take a gap year and then get a spot on a, as far as he was aware, good basketball team but he couldn’t imagine how often it happened. There were definitely some extenuating circumstances there but Eddie didn’t know what.

He also seemed to be connected to the main group of freshmen in some way shape or form and he had been dating a girl since high school according to Gareth who’d somewhat befriended a couple of those freshmen of Steve’s in one of his math classes.

Eddie finally went to make his way into BAT a couple weeks after the first time he started watching the door. He made his way in through the back door of the house after rather ungracefully hopping a fence.

It had seemed like something of a design flaw in the frat’s attempts to keep the guest inside monitored and verified.

That was until he saw one of the guys who sometimes watched the door- there seemed to be four of them that rotated somewhat randomly- tipping his head in Eddie’s direction while Eddie was having a chat with a guy in a basketball sweater about a possible business deal.

The guy the door monitor was talking to was someone Eddie had seen around campus from time to time. He was around Eddie’s height with soft, swoopy hair and strong arms.

Exactly Eddie’s fucking type.

Eddie was able to complete his sale before anyone came over to presumably kick him out. Only, that’s not what ended up happening.

He was leaning against the wall waiting for fate to impose itself on him after his new basketball buddy walked away with a joint when Mr. Perfect Hair appeared beside him. He didn’t say anything at first, only pressed his forearm to the wall by Eddie’s head and leaned in.

“Don’t sell to anyone who’s already drunk or any of the younger ones and you’re good here.”

He had practically whispered it in Eddie’s ear and it clearly said something about how long it had been since Eddie was with someone that just a hot guy whispering in his ear got him going that easily.

Eddie stuck around that night for long enough to find out that the perfect specimen he’d very quickly developed a fixation on was none other than the frat king himself.

He was fucked.

He was back at the frat the next weekend, only that time he walked right up to the front door. He was let in with The Nod from one of the guys and a “heyo, brochacho,” from the other.

Eddie knew the second guy from somewhere, he was chill and Eddie would normally have stopped to have a chat with him if he wasn’t too worried about risking the two guards realizing their mistake in letting him in.

Only it wasn’t a mistake, he kept getting let in over and over again to the point where he was familiar with most of the more regular attendees of the frat’s parties and he’d even go as far to say that he might even be friends with a couple.

Gareth had confronted him one day, asking Eddie if he had a stroke and joined a frat. It was in a joking manner because Eddie had previously only cared about getting into a frat for the easy to steal booze and business opportunities- both things he still benefited from- but he also just had fun, he liked the people and it was always a fun time when he’d head over there. Hell, he didn’t even drink or smoke every time he went, some weeks he just went there to catch up with the people he was friends with there.

The group of freshmen who Eddie didn’t tend to mingle with due to not wanting to risk Steve or one of the door guys thinking he was breaking one of the two clauses of him being allowed to stay had been talking to Gareth and they figured out that the guy from Gareth’s band and the guy from the frat were the same dude to both of their surprises.

Eddie took Gareth and the other guys from the band to BAT the weekend after that. They’d performed there once or twice in the past but it was everyone else’s first time actually in there. They were let in as easily as Eddie always was.

Most of the other guys didn’t tend to spend much time at the frat, especially since they were starting to get more gigs on weekends, in earlier time slots, and Eddie was always heading over to BAT after those when the rest of the guys either wanted to stick around late with the people they’d just performed for or go home to pass out. Eddie stuck around with them fairly often but not every single time.

Gareth was the most frequent attendee from the band.

It took him three weeks to tell Eddie that he needed to be careful about Steve before he let himself get hurt.

And Eddie knew he was playing with fire. He spoke to Steve for a while almost every time he was at the frat even though Steve should almost definitely have had much better things to be doing than talking to Eddie. Eddie couldn’t help himself though, because Steve was more than just a pretty face, he was sweet and thoughtful, funny, and someone Eddie could easily get lost in having a conversation with.

It was dumb of him to stay so close to a guy he was only continuing to have stronger and stronger feelings for as the months went by but he couldn’t help himself.

His bigger mistake was befriending Robin.

But there wasn’t any stopping that either, not when she and Steve were a package deal and Eddie got along with her instantly. He liked Robin, he was friends with Robin, he just also hated that she was dating Steve.

They were so happy together, he’d never seen two people who seemed more loving with each other and Eddie had no desire whatsoever to get in the way of that no matter how much it hurt.

They described each other as the loves of their lives and they had some joke about soulmates that they would whisper to each other from time to time that Eddie never fully caught but it was clearly an accurate descriptor for them.

But something about that night’s party at BAT was different. Usually drinks were given in a variety of containers. Mugs, cans, glasses, and plastic cups were the most common but Eddie had seen some weird stuff, especially for when shots were involved.

There were only solo cups out that night. Red, yellow, and green.

He ran into Argyle by the designated snack table.

“What’s with the cups man,” he asked as Argyle bit his way into a monstrosity of a combination of several different snack components. Argyle was probably the person he’s become the more friendly with, they had even hung out in the real world a couple of times, if there was anyone for him to go to for clarification on weird frat stuff, it was him.

“Theme,” Argyle spoke around his concoction. Then once his mouth wasn’t completely full of food, “green’s for the single beans, yellow for its complicato, and red for the taken folks.”

Eddie glanced around the room they were in, mostly green cups with a yellow and a couple reds thrown in. It was definitely a bit more packed than usual, not many people Eddie didn’t know but most people weren’t there every single week and it seemed like most people were there for once. “Makes sense,” Eddie agreed, “thanks man.”

Eddie knew enough about a fair few people’s lives that he came across that their cup color didn’t shock him. Dustin, one of Steve’s freshmen, had his usual orange juice- because Eddie had literally never seen him drink anything else, ever- in a red cup. Lucas and Max had red as well. The one other of that group of freshmen, who Eddie had had slightly more interaction with since he got more comfortable in the idea that Steve probably wasn’t going to kick him out for talking to them, was Mike.

The poor kid had stared at the three stacks of cups for long enough that Eddie was sure he’d see smoke come out of his ears momentarily. Usually Will was there with him, but he wasn’t much for the social environment so he wasn’t always there and he sometimes hid out upstairs in Jonathan’s room when he needed a break.

Eventually Max had walked up to him and half shoved a red cup in his face. “Go upstairs, stop being so scared about this, you’ve practically been dating since we were preteens.”

Eddie smiled as Mike accepted the less than politely offered cup.

Mike sort of tripped his way through the bottom floor of the house and over to the partially blocked off stairs that he dazed up. The freshmen were the only non frat members allowed up there without a frat member taking them.

As far as Eddie could tell, Steve didn’t let the kids actually live in the frat house because there wasn’t enough space for all of the little shits and because he wanted them to actually be involved in their schooling and making friends and connections by living in the dorm environment so they don’t isolate themselves away.

A sigh of relief passed through the house once Mike and his red cup made it up the stairs.

“You think he’s actually going to go through with that or will he just chicken out again?” Steve asked, bumping his shoulder against Eddie’s once he made it to his side.

Only… Eddie couldn’t hear shit.

Just static.

Steve was holding a cup. A green cup.

He didn’t seem any different than he usually acted around Eddie, he was all smiley and radiating goodness, and Eddie wouldn’t imagine he’d hold a ‘declare your relationship’ type party within the immediate time after breaking up with his long time girlfriend unless Eddie was horrifically wrong about what kind of guy Steve was.

That and Eddie had literally seen Robin across the house not that long ago holding a red cup.

“Eddie?”

“I…”

“What’s up fuckers?” Robin announced, she was definitely a little tipsy and immediately dropped her arms over each of them as she made space for herself in the non existent space between them.

Eddie didn’t have words, thoughts, or ideas. Only panic.

“Max sent Mike upstairs with a red cup,” Steve told her.

Robin groaned and dipped her head down far enough that Eddie felt her full body weight shift onto him and Steve. “Why now? I was so close to winning that bet with Nancy.”

“I’m sure you’ll still enjoy being on the losing side of that bet.”

A look crept onto Robin’s face that Eddie had never seen before. “Yeah,” she said slowly, “Losing bets to her is so awesome.”

“Get out of here with your horniness,” Steve said, returning Robin to her own feet while she giggled at whatever was going on inside of her head, “I was having a perfectly normal conversation before you came over here.”

“Oh sure, like you’ve even had a normal conversation with Eddie,” she accused. “Your-”

That was as far as she got before Steve’s hand was over her mouth and he walked her a few feet away from where he and Eddie had been standing. “Go get another drink to celebrate. But not too much or you’ll sleep through your call with Nancy in the morning.”

Steve was something of a mother hen to everyone unless they got on his bad side then he was a complete asshole in the most controlled and subtlest manner possible.

“I like talking to Nancy,” Robin said dreamily as she finally walked away. Back to the drinks table but still.

Eddie had never had the pleasure of meeting the elder Wheeler, he knew of her from all the rest of them. She was at a fancy schmancy school further east and was only able to come by to visit during longer school breaks. Robin had also gone out there to visit her a few weekends before.

Robin talked about her a lot

Robin was drinking out of a red cup.

Robin was horny for Nancy.

Robin was dating Nancy.

“Oh shit.”

Steve raised an eyebrow when he got back to Eddie. “What?”

Steve was standing close to Eddie, like close enough that Eddie couldn’t move without pressing his body into Steve’s.

“Eds?”

“Everything makes so much more sense now.”

Steve placed his finger under Eddie’s chin and tipped his head up to face him. “Hey, you okay?”

They were too close for Eddie to have words. There were a hundred things Eddie would normally say in a situation like this- because he and Steve were in situations like that a lot- and even more that he wanted to say now that he knew Steve might be feeling the same things as him.

Eddie officially did not know what to do with himself with that information.

“Woah,” he says as some light turned or wasn’t being blocked anymore and illuminated Steve in just the right way that he was almost sparkling.

That or Eddie was just high on the potential that he might not have been making up the thing between him and Steve all along.

“Good woah or bad woah?” Steve asked with a too adorable tilt to his head.

Eddie was so fucked.

“Good. Definitely good.”

Steve looked at him for another long moment before his mouth twisted upwards in one corner. It was a subtle look but a meaningful one all the less.

Only Eddie didn’t know what it meant.

“It’s a bit crowded in here,” Steve whispered. Or, well, he said at a level loud enough that Eddie could hear him but there was no way anyone but Eddie did. “Why don’t we head down to my room?”

Eddie had never actually been in Steve’s room. He’d been upstairs in the house several times for a variety of reasons but one of the perks of being the king or whatever of the frat was that Steve got the big room downstairs with its own bathroom.

Steve’s room was sacred territory in Eddie’s brain, a place that he would exist apart from because ridiculous crush or not, Steve could never like him back both because he was taken and presumably straight.

Eddie was wrong on both counts. Quite enormously so. O’ for two.

“Yeah we… do that, yes.”

Steve’s nonchalance was betrayed by a smile creeping onto his face, but he didn’t comment on Eddie’s botched English unless that was what he was smiling about. “Come on.”

Eddie followed Steve through the house like he was attached to him by an invisible string. The music playing through an impressively loud speaker was only a dull murmur and Eddie was sure he bumped right into someone- potentially even multiple people with how the many basketball team members tended to clump at these things- and only years of habit actually had him apologize as he kept walking.

Steve manifested a key out of nowhere- because he did not have one in the back pocket of his stupidly tight jeans, which Eddie definitely didn’t know for certain reasons- and unlocked his door before gesturing for Eddie to go inside ahead of him.

The door closed with the characteristic squeak of the frat house.

Steve was far away from him.

Steve was close to him.

Something was about to happen.

Eddie’s brain flipped back into gear after it had stalled out in the living room. He closed the last of the distance between the two of them, it was his turn to play the offense or whatever stable sports metaphor was applicable, he had other things to think about.

“Hey, big boy. You did a pretty good job getting me all alone, now whatever do you have planned next for little ol’ me?”

Only Steve wasn’t phased. If anything, he was encouraged. His hand found its way onto Eddie’s cheek, then down around the back of his neck. Steve’s face was so close to his that Eddie had to whack the urge to lick him down with a mental hammer. “I was thinking we could give you a reason to trade out that green cup you were using earlier.”

If Eddie were literally anyone else or even the Eddie he imagined himself to be sometimes, he would have followed that with something equally as suggestive or flirty, but no, his immediate response was, “well the green cup helped me realize that you and Robin aren’t dating so I can’t be mad at it.”

“You- what?”

“Yeah… In my defense, I was told that you two were together and you are very close so how was I supposed to know?”

Steve was staring at him with bemusement. “Robin said you knew she was a lesbian? Haven’t the two of you had like conversations about this?”

“Maybe? I don’t know, I don’t remember things that I talk about when I’m drunk.”

“God you’re ridiculous,” Steve said. He was smirking as he did and closed the gap between them that had formed after Eddie’s comment. “But now that you know now that her and I definitely aren’t together,” his hand found its way to Eddie’s waist, “is there anything else you wanted to do?”

Eddie thought he’d seen Steve’s flirty side before tonight, but that was nothing compared to this. He was touchy and had an adorable quirk to his smile that was apparently Eddie’s own personal kryptonite.

“You could remind me of what you were originally planning when we came down here,” Eddie said, aiming for flirty and landing somewhere in a three mile radius of it. He was good at putting on and act but for one, he didn’t want to always have to be putting that act on around Steve if he started this out with that, and two, his act involved standing on cafeteria tables not flirting with the guy he’s been harboring a hopeless crush on for months.

“Or I could do this.”

Steve inched his head forward, not painfully slowly but enough that Eddie could have easily pulled away if he didn’t want Steve to follow through on what he had started.

Their lips touched and it was a weird angle at first but they fixed it. Eddie’s hands sort of just hung at his sides until Steve pulled away long enough to tell Eddie that he was allowed to touch him.

Turns out all he needed was a little nudge in that direction.

Within seconds he had one hand brushing against the baby hairs on Steve’s neck and the other tracing along his back. It wasn’t until the music down the hall suddenly cut out that Eddie remembered there was a whole party happening out there.

“It was the song, it has an abrupt ending,” Steve said after a moment.

As much as it pained him to say it, Eddie asked, “should we be getting back out there?”

“It’s late-” it wasn’t even eleven- “they can handle themselves for one night.”

“I’m not going to argue about that.” Eddie had barely finished speaking before they were kissing again.

💚💚💚🥛🥛🥛💚💚💚

Morning came sooner than expected- or, well, noon the next day came sooner than expected. Eddie only had blanket over one of his legs but he wasn’t mad about it because he ran hot when he slept and it was never fun waking up overheated.

Steve wasn’t on the other side of the bed where he had been when they’d fallen asleep. He was an early riser according to the many times Robin had complained about him waking her up so they could go on morning jogs together despite her being the one to come up with that idea.

Eddie contemplated just rolling over and falling back to sleep on Steve’s stupidly comfortable mattress but the last thing he needed to do was to fuck up his sleep schedule more.

And he had a Steve to go find.

Despite significant willpower, he laid in the bed for several more minutes and by the time he made it out to the kitchen he was regretting not having just gone back to sleep.

He grabbed the first cup he could find and chucked some water from the tap in it to hopefully wake him up a little.

“Ah,” Robin said from behind him. “You two finally realized you’re both idiots.”

She was holding a red cup and wearing a sweater that Eddie didn’t recognize, but definitely did not look like something she would ever buy herself. He was something of an idiot.

“Me more than him,” Eddie countered, “but yes.”

Robin was grinning absurdly wide for it just to have been about him and Steve getting together. “That’s two bets I lost last night.”

“I’m happy for you?”

“Me too,” she said it dreamily, almost dazed. “He’s in the backyard with Lucas by the way.”

Eddie picked his red cup of water off the counter with a tip of his imaginary hat to Robin before setting off to locate his boyfriend.

Thank god for themed frat parties.

| AO3 |

#divine

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

steve harrington presents as an alpha a month into his senior year of high school, when the weather is just turning crisp for fall. his parents are thrilled—his father keeps talking about the clout it brings to the harrington name and partnerships it might encourage at the office.

steve harrington presents as an alpha, and he knows it’s wrong. he feels it in his bones. when his first rut hits, it's like running into a wall. everything stops. everything hurts. he’s angry about his rut, made angrier by the hormones rushing through him.

he locks himself in his room, tears apart the soft pillows on his bed with too-sharp teeth. he does not deserve soft things, does not deserve gentleness. his rage wanes as the rut comes to an end, and in its wake, he feels empty, like it burned him from the inside out.

nancy says he smells like a forest fire. he sees the way she winces at it, sees how she sometimes raises her upper lip like she means to snarl at him, to rise to a threat. steve never wanted to be a threat.

but when the Upside Down comes back for round two, he puts himself in front of the stupidly brave pups and turns his nail-studded bat against the four-legged demogorgon babies. he plants his feet and knows his scent is billowing around him, aggressive and uncontrolled. and he fights.

after, dustin keeps telling him how cool he was in the junkyard. steve wonders, now. maybe he doesn’t have to be a threat; maybe he can be a protector instead. maybe the rancid, acrid smell of destruction he wears could be a controlled burn. useful. good, even.

he uses it to distract the russians from robin, allows himself to be seen as a more dangerous target and goads them into focusing on him instead. later, in a grimy mall bathroom, robin tells him he reminds her of winter nights spent in front of the hearth with hot chocolate in hand.

it’s warm, she says, smoky but nice and comforting when he’s calm. she says even when he smelled like he wanted to burn the world down in that bunker, she knew she was safe from it, safe because of it. she settles in at his side, all sharp evergreen, and he leans against her.

fire doesn’t have to hurt. alphas don’t have to be violent, untamed, impossible creatures like society claims. and when he comes face to face with eddie munson in a dilapidated boat house, on the wrong end of a broken bottle, he knows he doesn’t have to let his scent flare.

eddie munson smells like rain, like lightning, crisp ozone and petrichor, a storm of an alpha. in appearance, in scent, in attitude, he makes himself larger. but up close, face to face, steve sees his need for shelter, for safety, for peace, and he wants to be that.

against the cold of that encroaching, panicked downpour, steve makes himself a warm light, offers eddie a place to rest. he gives him grace and lifts his chin, bares his throat. surrenders to the deluge.

and when everything is done, after vecna dies and hawkins recovers, eddie approaches him smelling like spring, like new beginnings, soft and gentle and all steve ever wanted.

#🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

Eddie: Don't laugh, but I need your help.

Steve: I promise to laugh and help.

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

So, at work this little girls' soccer team has been bagging people's groceries in groups of two. They're at max 7yo but they look younger. And most of them have at least one parent standing back by customer service just keeping an eye on them. The parents are obviously just gossiping and talking between themselves for entertained. But there was one dad who was with his daughter because it was an uneven number of girls. He's chatting with customers and the cashier and treating his daughter like a princess. And at the end of their time bagging, he just carries her and talks so softly. Like the love was pouring from him, it was so wholesome.

Now make it Steddie...

Imagine girl dad Eddie who'd rather help bag groceries than gossip with the group of moms. So, he chats with everyone else because the cashier looks exhausted, and he thinks he can give the other man a small break from all the conversations. But to his surprise the cashier doesn't take the break. He chats with Eddie and his daughter easily between customers.

And Eddie's little girl is having a blast which is a blessing. Because he can see some of the girls looking bored and he's extremely happy she's not throwing a hissy fit like Carol's youngest. No, his girl is asking all the customers random questions that aren't too invasive. Until she asks the cashier, Steve, if he's seeing someone cause he's really pretty. The customer laughs as Steve goes soft for Eddie's little girl. And he handles her like someone made to be a dad.

When their time is up for their little fundraiser, Eddie picks up his girl who curls into him, playing with his hair. Steve's shoulders slump and Eddie can't help but smile at the man. "I'm not, just so you know," Steve says and it's another small break from his customers.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, "not what?"

Steve's ears are a little pink, "seeing anyone."

It throws Eddie for a loop and he glances at his girl before looking at Steve again, "me neither."

Steve perks up so quickly Eddie has to smother a laugh. "do you want to? See someone, I mean."

Eddie's mouth ticks up into a smirk. But he doesn't get a moment to speak, "Daddy, aren't you seeing Steve right now? He's right in front of you!" His daughter looks charmingly worried for him so Eddie makes a show of gasping and twirling around.

"oh no! I'm blind! Mel I'm blind what do I do!" He almost shouts as his daughter starts to freak out. "Oh cashier Steve where'd you go?" He stops his spin to lock eyes with Steve and he winks.

Steve's laughter makes his eyes crinkle and Eddie thinks he's adorable. "Oh! There he is," he says and his daughter sighs like it's the most revealing thing he could've said. "Say Steve, would you perhaps wanna see each other again soon?"

Steve nods and glances at the woman now placing food on the belt. Eddie moves over and writes down his number quickly before bowing out with a grin.

#CUTENESS

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?

Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.

Steve is there to fix that.

One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.

He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.

He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.

Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?

And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").

And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"

"Eddie."

Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"

They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.

They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:

"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"

"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."

"What about a funeral?"

"It puts fun in a funeral."

"Touché."

They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."

And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.

They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.

And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."

Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."

...

Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.

Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:

STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?

EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!

STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.

EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!

And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.

But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.

"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."

Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.

Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"

Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.

The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.

Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.

No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").

Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.

The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.

Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.

But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.

The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...

Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...

"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.

There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.

And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"

The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.

"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"

Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.

"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."

Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"

Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"

"You already paid me, Eddie."

"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."

"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."

"I'm listening."

Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"

And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.

"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."

It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.

Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.

They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."

And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?

#this is just perfect

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

Just a little silly thing I thought of watching The Airborne Toxic Event music videos and how it seemed like whenever they needed violin, piano, tambourine...whatever it was always Anna Bulbrook playing.

So what if we steddified it? Steve just picking up whatever instrument Corroded Coffin needs to fill out a song and suddenly he's on tour with them and Eddie still isn't sure how it happened.

Eddie was getting frustrated. The band had been working on this song for the last two weeks, but there was still something missing. And he only had mere minutes to finish it before Steve came to pick him up.

Not because they were dating or anything, though...Eddie mentally slapped the side of his head. He was getting off track. Steve was picking him up because his van was in the shop until Friday and Steve had offered to taxi him around.

Like the fucking saint he was.

He screamed his rage, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. But into the resulting silence, he realized it had become too quiet.

When he looked up he saw Steve standing there with a shocked expression on his face.

"You good there, man?" he asked with a grimace.

"Don't mind him," Brian huffed. "He always gets like this when we're stuck on a song."

"Can I hear it?" Steve asked.

Everyone just looked at each other, not speaking.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, not a metalhead, I know. But I am a classically trained musician, maybe I can figure out where it's gone wrong."

"Fine by me," Jeff said with a shrug. "What's it going to hurt?"

Eddie looked up at Steve's earnest face and sighed. "All right, if there are no objections. Let's start it at the top."

And the band played.

"Play it again," Steve muttered.

They looked at each other again, but Eddie just shrugged and they played it again.

Steve nodded. "Okay, I think I've got it. Can I borrow that old keyboard for a sec?"

Gareth looked behind him with a frown. "I mean I guess."

Steve set it up and plug it in. "Brian start on your cue."

The band watched as Brian laid on the base. Steve nodded in time to the music and then began to play a melody on the keyboard. He pointed to Gareth who immediately started banging away.

Eddie came in on vocals and suddenly the song was really coming together.

They practiced it a couple more times, Steve playing the melody line on the keyboard and when they were done all four of the Corroded Coffin boys stared at him in shock.

"Holy shit dude," Jeff said. "What the fuck was that?"

Gareth nodded. "Yeah, man. Eddie hear can play by ear and read music, but that was something else entirely."

"You're going to have to play it with us on Tuesday at the Hideout," Brian said.

Jeff and Gareth agreed. They all turned to Eddie, Steve included.

"I don't know why you're looking at me," Eddie huffed. "I'm down."

Steve just grinned.

But then it kept happening. The song was a hit with the Tuesday crowd because of course it was.

They were working on a song and again they were running up against a brick wall. They had already incorporated Steve's piano into it, but it was still missing an extra beat.

They had gotten permission to practice at local college's music room and Steve was getting bored.

He had his part down. There were only a couple of parts were the piano came in so he cast his eyes around the room looking for something mess around with.

His eyes lit up when he spotted his prize. He walked over to the table and picked it up, the clatter of the small metal jingles rattling as he did so.

The band stopped playing and glared at him.

"Don't mind me," he said smugly. "Keep playing."

They went back to starting from the top and as Gareth came in on the drums Steve hit the instrument against the side of his leg in time to the beat.

It stunned Brian so much he missed his cue, his jaw on the floor.

"Stevie..." Eddie said warningly. "What was that?"

Steve grinned. "You said you needed an extra beat. I'm providing the extra beat. Just trust me."

The other band members looked at each other, but did as he suggested.

Sure enough when the chorus came in, and Steve started playing the tambourine, it took everything ounce of professionalism the band had not ground to a complete stop. Then for the verses Steve would play his part on the piano and it just blended so well.

Eddie ran his fingers over his face. "Jesus Christ, Stevie, warn a dude, yeah? You are just sitting over there like a musical genius and it's seriously making the rest of us look bad."

Steve thew back his head and laughed.

"So it's a hit then?"

Everyone groaned.

Jeff shook his head. "Yeah, man. It was a hit."

Steve just grinned.

They were recording their first real album in a real studio and while the producers were a little unsure about this weirdo who dressed more like Bruce Springsteen than Kirk Hammett, they had contracted the whole band so they let it slide.

It took Steve two weeks to impress the producers.

Steve had been using the studio off hours (which he did pay them for) to record lullabies on the violin for Robin and Lucas. Violins were the only things that would soothe their anxieties and keep the nightmares at bay.

He had finished his little recording about an hour ago was merely laying down melodies and such that he would play back to see if he liked them.

If only his parents could see him now. Using all that classically trained music to guess Russian code, play lullabies for frightened kids, and preform in a metal band.

Clint Harrington would probably keel over on the spot.

He was so wrapped up in the music, just letting it flow over him that he didn't notice that he had gathered an audience.

He finally stopped and the mic from the sound booth crackled to life startling him.

"Shit, Stevie," Eddie's warm voice said from above him. "Do you think you could play that haunting melody again?"

Steve blushed and then shrugged. "I mean I guess. It was just me playing around. Why?"

"Because everyone in here thinks it's just what Blood-Red Skies needs."

Steve furrowed his brow and then nodded. "Can you pump the track in through the speakers?"

"Yeah," Eddie said breathless. "Just give me a moment to find it."

It was barely a moment or two before Steve's tape was replaced by the recording of the song.

The song was hauntingly beautiful. Eddie only singing vocals as rest of the band played.

It was raw and emotional.

Steve let the song play through before he signaled to play it again.

This time when Eddie begins to sing, Steve begins to play the violin. That beautifully sad sound he had played just to get it out of his head beginning to raise.

"Holy shit!" a new voice came through. It was their producer Kenny Fontaine. "You made that up?"

Steve shrugged. "Sometimes I get music in my head and I need to get out."

"Teach me to play the piano part!" Eddie blurts wrestling the mic away from Kenny. "So that when we play it live you can be on violin and I can sing and play."

Steve grinned. "I'd love that."

I love you.

They are playing it on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson to promote the release of Blood-Red Skies.

The tension between Eddie and Steve is thick that Johnny calls them out on it.

And that's when Steve leaned over and kissed Eddie right on the lips.

Johnny is absolutely freaking out and in a good way.

They spend the rest of the interview tucked into each other's sides like puzzle pieces.

Even later, ten years down the line when Corroded Coffin is selling out stadiums, Eddie and Steve always end the song with a kiss.

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#utterly fucking gorgeous

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

TW for Eddie getting hurt (but he's okay). And Human Trafficking.

Link to Part One

Link to Part Three

“Again? Seriously?”

Eddie knows he should keep his mouth shut. He knows he should. He just...doesn’t seem to be able to.

It probably doesn’t help that Eddie is one hundred percent done with this. This isn’t a life. A gilded cage is still just a cage, and Eddie’s getting to the point where antagonizing the guards is a hobby.

“Wear it, or I’ll make you wear it,” the lackey snarls, shoving the flimsy white fabric against Eddie’s chest.

“You fucking wear it!”

And that’s it. The guys an Alpha, he’s like, literally twice the size of Eddie, and it all happens so fast Eddie’s winded by the floor before he knows what hit him. And then it comes, the whistling noise of the cane singing through the air. Eddie is intimately familiar with the noise.

And just like usual, Eddie can’t keep his noises in, he curses, he calls the guard every name under the sun, he screams and starts to cry but in the end is reduced to a compliant heap, the same as every other time.

They strip him naked and splash freezing water on his face, gets rid of the snot and tears and no doubt the flush he has on his cheeks. His feet are burning, throbbing, and Eddie wants to collapse back to the floor to take the pressure off.

He’s shoved into the white dress, “you so much as blink wrong out there and you won’t be standing for a fortnight.”

Eddie dips his head; he knows it’s true. They’ve done it before. So he gives in. They’re breaking him more and more easily. Eddie doesn’t want to give up; he just doesn’t feel like he has the energy any more.

He’s been here the longest, he’s the only one that’s never sold. It’s only a matter of time before his body ends up in a shallow grave out on the ranch somewhere.

He limps into the dining room, freshly sprayed with heavy duty scent blockers. Eddie’s vaguely aware they’re eating lunch, and if his feet weren’t fucking stinging the way they are, he has no doubt his stomach would growl at the smells.

Eddie doesn’t make it that far before he catches Hagan waving a hand at him, “get him out of here, he's bleeding on the rug.” Eddie does his best to oblige, but he can only move so fast with the injuries on his feet.

Hagan, out of everyone here, is not someone you want to piss off. Eddie learned that too, very early on.

"Him," someone says behind Eddie, "I want him."

Eddie turns back again, despite the fact that it can’t possibly be him the Alpha is referring too, there are other male omega here, after all. But no. The Alpha is standing now, and he’s looking right at Eddie.

Well, fuck.

Because as much as Eddie has dreamed of this day, of getting the fuck out of here...that Alpha could be worse. The possibility is always there. This could be a frying pan into fire type situation, and there’s fuck all Eddie can do about that.

Hagan makes a noise, scoffs, "Steve, come on, have a proper look. Don't pick that one. Get a pretty one."

The Alpha is irritatingly good looking at first glance, and he becomes even more so in Eddie’s eyes when he flashes a look of irritated disgust at Hagan, "no, he'll do."

Oh, Eddie ‘will do’ will he? Okay, maybe the Alpha isn’t that good looking, after all.

"Oh," Hagan laughs, "I get it, just gonna' wreck him anyway, right? That's fair, can always get another," and he's laughing again and suddenly Eddie is ice cold with fear. Hagan called this guy Steve; clearly they know each other. Is that the type of Alpha this Steve guy is?

Everyone else is shooed out of the room, and Eddie stands there on his throbbing feet, hearing, to the dollar, how much he’s worth.

More than he thought, if he’s being honest.

Alpha Steve doesn’t even flinch at the price.

Eddie’s certain Steve must be doing fifteen over the limit, which, honestly, he doesn’t care. It means Eddie’s traveling fifteen over the limit away from a place he never wants to see ever again, so it works for him.

"Look, uh, hey, you have a name?"

"Eddie," he answers, but only because he genuinely doesn't want to antagonize this guy right out of the gate.

"Right. Eddie. So. This is...well it's going to sound a bit wild but...I'm kind of here for the FBI. I mean. I don't work for them, or anything, but...I was...asked, I guess, to get evidence. So don't worry about everyone else, they're getting rescued later so. That's. A thing, I guess?"

Eddie just sort of sits there for a moment, feeling stupid. FBI. Rescue??? Maybe he hit his head or he's dreaming or something but...no, his feet are stinging like a bitch and he can very clearly remember how the whole day has gone so far. He’s awake, and this is real.

"Yea. Yeah, I guess that's a lot to take in. But we can talk about it...later? Do you have family? Like, shit, do you have somewhere to go? I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to actually like...buy, a person. Couldn't leave you there though."

The Alpha’s...rambling. Which, Eddie kind of figures now that this guy wasn’t joking when he said he doesn’t work for the FBI. He looks nervous, actually, white knuckling the steering wheel. In Eddie’s experience, if something seems to good to be true, then it almost definitely is. This guy is giving off no scent, and there's no scent in the car anyway. Either it's a rental or something, or this guy wears blockers most of the time. There's even one of those fancy scent diffuser things plugged into the dash. So other than being visibly unsettled Eddie’s got nothing to go off of.

But then, why would he lie? He’s bought Eddie fair and square, and like most Alphas, he’s probably carrying double Eddie’s body weight, plus he knows Eddie's already injured. Eddie could be going from one prison to a...worse prison. But...again, this guy has no reason to lie, right?

"I've...I've got an uncle. Haven't seen him for years. I don't...know,” it’s pretty true, without giving too much away. The possibility that this guy could be serious is...it feels to big of an idea to absorb. Eddie might be free? He'll maybe see uncle Wayne again? This guy is going to just...let Eddie go? Eddie's known, for literal years, that he had two ways out of the ranch, out front, bought and paid for, or out back, in a body bag. The sudden possibility of a third option is so out of left field Eddie doesn't know what to do with it.

"Right, right okay. We can talk to Hopper about it," Steve spots a drive through, "you hungry?"

Eddie has absolutely no fucking clue what a ‘Hopper’ is, but at the sight of the beautiful golden arches, his priorities shift drastically, "oh fuck me yes," Eddie says it with such vehemence that Steve laughs, he’s got a nice laugh, this Alpha. And unless he’s playing the long con...why the fuck would he even worry if Eddie’s hungry? "I haven't left the ranch for two years, and they never let us eat anything like that, it's bad for our skin. Plus, we have to stay thin and pretty."

Steve’s expression changes in an instant, he looks genuinely horrified by what Eddie’s just revealed, “you can have absolutely anything you want.”

Eddie takes him at his word and orders half the damn menu.

Well, Eddie figures, the FBI thing is true, and this is a Hopper, and man he looks like he’s had enough, "you were not supposed to buy a human being," he very clearly tells Steve. Eddie’s feet are stinging a little on the asphalt, but as long as he doesn’t move too much, it’s bearable. And even though he’s still wearing the fucking nightdress, like hell was he missing this conversation.

"I know but-" Steve starts to protest, which Eddie thinks is kind of brave, because if Steve is twice Eddie’s weight, Hopper is basically a giant. Hopper stops him dead with a glare, and Steve hands over his phone and strips off his suit jacket and hands that over too, leaving him in a pristine white shirt.

Hopper waves him off, "you did good."

Hopper does something to the back of Steve's phone, peeling something away from it, before giving it back and then turning his attention to Eddie, "somewhere I can take you kid? Any family?"

"I only have an uncle, but I don't...it's been years, I haven't seen him since I was little."

Hopper rubs is hand over his face, the rasp of stubble loud, before he lights another cigarette, "I'll have to find you a motel somewhere while we figure this out." And that sparks a twinge of...fear. Eddie has lived with a group of Omega for years, and the ranch was a lot of things but...they had meals provided, they didn't have to think about money, or clothes, or anything mundane like that. The prospect of suddenly being completely alone...completely alone and potentially vulnerable, is not in any way appealing.

"He can stay with me." Steve suggests out of fucking no where, "I've got...a lot of space," he trails off, looking kind of sheepish that he even suggested it. At some point, somewhere between the rescue, the McDonalds, and right this moment, Eddie kind of decides, tentatively, at least, that Alpha Steve might just be an alright guy.

Hopper raises an eyebrow at Eddie, Eddie shrugs, playing down his relief, "not like I've had any better offers lately."

Hopper snorts, but he hands over a business card to Steve, "this is highly unorthodox, but...I don't care. I've got bigger things to worry about. Text me any details the kid can give you on the uncle. I'll be in touch."

And then Hopper just...drives away. Steve fiddles with the card Hopper just gave him, and Eddie can see it says FBI and all that good stuff on it. This is feeling more and more real as time stretches on.

"So is there anything you...want? Need?" Steve asks him.

Eddie feels kind of bad about the sheer amount of money he’s already cost Steve today, "I mean, I don't have any cash, obviously, and I heard how much money you shelled out- I mean, do you think you can comp me from the FBI? Man, you didn't even get a receipt for me."

And that...makes Steve laugh, like really, makes him laugh. And Eddie joins in, not that he thinks he’s funny particularly, but because Steve is just so...well. Maybe it’s a relief too, that Eddie is finally out of that place, and the truth of that is finally sinking in. He’s free. Feels a little delirious with the possibility of freedom.

And there’s only one way to celebrate something like that, “can we get milkshakes?”

@stylelovechild @steddieonthen @marklee-blackmore @sticknpokelightningbolt @resident-gay-bitch @somegirlsomewhere @mugloversonly @cryptid-system @weekend-dreamer7

#eddie is stealing my goddamn heart #this is AMAZING

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

TW for Eddie getting hurt (but he's okay). And Human Trafficking.

Link to part Two

Steve leans against Carol's desk, "here are your messages, I fobbed off the Times interview - they're going to email you their questions instead." He's listening to Carol, but he's watching, frowning.

There's a man in his office.

"Lunch call with the Singapore office is on. Your suite for the gala is back from the dry cleaners, it's in your bathroom."

"Right, the gala," Steve answers absently. It's a corner office, lots of glass, so it's impossible to miss the man in his office. The man who is calmly, right now, looking at the framed photo Steve has of his parents. It's basically a prop, Steve never got on with them, but that is not the point. Some random guy is touching Steve's shit.

"And my nine thirty?"

"Had to move it, don't worry, they were fine about it."

"Right," Carol's leaning over the desk now, watching the man right along with Steve, "I assume that's why you had to cancel my nine thirty."

"Uh hu," she's tapping her nails on the top of the desk, and she's so fucking infuriating, if she wasn't so fucking good at her job Steve would have booted her years ago.

"You're going to make me ask aren't you??

Carol gives him a massive shit eating grin, "ask what, sir?"

"Jesus fucking christ," Steve sighs, "who is that in my office."

"Not sure," Carol shrugs, grinning because she's pleased she's being such a dick, "security brought him up," she leans over the desk, whispering like she's imparting a secret, "pretty sure they said something that sounded like FBI."

And then she sits down, tapping at her computer and painting her nails or doing whatever it is she does all day. Harassing mail boys, probably. God she's like a fucking shark, but that what Steve gets, he wanted a competent secretary, what he got was a fucking guard dog.

Steve's not complaining. He'd been weary of hiring a female Alpha and then shoving her behind a desk, but it turns out Carol is terrifyingly efficient and fucking fearless, so it's kind of a win win.

Steve stares at the man in his office for a second longer, trying to figure out what the fuck he's done. he wonders if he's somehow accidentally committed major tax fraud, or something. He's pretty sure he hasn't, but the panic spiral is sitting there, looking inviting, anyway.

Steve goes into his office, and the man turns. He's tall, well built, kind of portly with age, maybe, but Steve still wouldn't fuck with the guy. He's not wearing blockers of any sort, so Steve's office now smells of strange, uninvited, Alpha. Great.

"Jim Hopper," he says, extending his hand, "FBI."

"Steve Harrington," Steve replies, even though he's certain it's pointless, this guy knows exactly who he is.

The guy is already producing paperwork as Steve takes his seat on the other side of his desk, "standard non disclosure, Mr. Harrington."

Steve gives it a once over, he's signed enough of these, and been involved with the legal team enough, that he feels confident enough. He signs it, knowing he won't get any answers until he does.

"I'll get right to it, time is tight. I've been working to dismantle an Omega trade ring for nearly eighteen months now. We're almost ready to move, teams are in place, inks drying on the warrants, cells are all picked out."

Steve nods, okay. He knew Omega trade was a thing, a barbaric, highly illegal thing. Human trafficking of the worst form, he gestures for Hopper to continue.

"If we go in now, we will likely get a few of the higher ups, we'll rescue approximately two dozen Omega, it'll be a success." Steve goes to speak, wondering what the fuck this has to do with him, Hopper waves him down, "we've been here before; I've made this mistake once before. If we don't get the people at the top, this thing will grow back in a years time. I want them all."

Steve gets that. His head is spinning a little. He knows things like this go on, you see about it on the news, but it does sound a bit...like a spy movie.

Hopper puts a photograph on Steve's desk, "you know this man?"

And Steve does. They're not what Steve would call friends; more of a good tempered rivalry. And yeah, Steve had Daddy's money, but Tommy had his Daddy's company. They came up at the same time, went after the same deals. Move in the same circles, Steve's known him for years. Steve's disliked him for years, "you're not suggesting Tommy Hagan is...the head of some sort of, human slavery outfit?" Knowing how ruthless Tommy can be, how questionable his methods are...Steve's still struggling to see him as...this.

"I'm not suggesting it. I'm telling you as fact. You've known him a long time, and we have to move fast. The charity gala tonight, you'll both be there."

"Right, sure, but I don't exactly see what I can do about this."

"Hagan moves the...high end product. Very exclusive, very expensive. They keep them at a ranch, just out of state," and that's kind of uncomfortable, because Steve's been to the ranch for a business lunch, so he knows exactly the place Hopper is talking about. And, jesus, Steve had thought at the time Tommy had a lot of Omega staff. A lot of really well behaved Omega staff - at the time, Steve thought Tommy was just being his usual dick self. Just showing off wealth. Fuck, if some of those Omega were actually, like, prisoners- "drop a hint to Hagan, tonight. Tell him you're getting itchy, fancy yourself an Omega. A traditional one, timid. Say whatever you need to say, get yourself an invite out there."

Steve takes a deep breath, nodding. He can do that. He can play that; he might have to wear blockers, his opinion of Tommy is in the gutter on a good day, never-mind this.

"That's all you need?"

Hopper shifts forward in his chair, "look, you're ideal. On the periphery, you've known each other a long time, but not well. He knows exactly the kind of clout you have, your bank balance, you're the perfect person to do this."

It's not hard to find information on Steve Harrington, he's thirty first on the Forbes 100 list, but clearly Hopper, at the very least, has taken notice.

"How do you know I'm not already involved?"

Hopper snorts, "kid. We know. Also, you just asked me that question, and your balls ain't that brassy."

Steve can't deny it, he shrugs, "so, what else?"

"Get an invite. Go there wearing a wire. Meet Tommy, pick an Omega. You'll be trusted; we will fit a listening device. Hagan's wriggled out of this sort of thing before; evidence like that, there'll be no court in the country that won't convict him."

Steve feels awkward. He knows there's a device on him somewhere; Hopper had taken his phone for ten minutes, and brought it back with a different suit jacket for him to wear.

That had been at half five this morning, standing on Steve's back porch. And as he pulls into the ranch, he has the air con on full blast because fucking hell, he's sweaty when he's nervous.

Hopper had made this sound easy; the ranch is pretty safe. Only a couple of armed guards. Plus, he's Steve Harrington; you can't just disappear a guy like Steve.

Hopper had sounded so certain, the cherry of his cigarette bright in the pre dawn mist. He'd even slapped Steve's shoulder, told him he was saving lives. Steve had felt like a fucking super hero for about twenty minutes, until reality and fucking nerves had swamped him.

But here he is, walking up the front steps to the ranch house, Tommy Hagan grinning big, "hope you brought the black card," Tommy jokes as they bro hug.

Because that's not creepy.

Tommy had given Steve a smirk at the Gala last night, was confident he had exactly what Steve was looking for. Knew, for the right price, exactly what would scratch Steve's itch. Not like he was talking about real fucking human beings or anything.

Steve's real glad he went thick on the blockers; he's certain Tommy would be choking on the scent of his disgust by now.

They bring them in during lunch. Steve sitting, eating fucking cornbread and home made slaw and he just can't. He nibbles, feeling sick with nerves. Tommy doesn't even seem to notice. Steve can't help but stare at him, someone he's known most of his life and now...he's been revealed as something vile and subhuman. Steve has to work hard to keep the disgust off his face.

Something that gets even more difficult when the Omega are brought it and lined up, all wearing the same diaphanous nightdresses regardless of gender. Every single one of them could be a contender for the most beautiful thing Steve's ever seen. Every single one of them could be a model, or something.

They're lined up in height order; the last one in, the tallest, a male Omega. He's limping.

He's leaving bloody footprints on the fancy parquet flooring.

Tommy must catch Steve's face, "the unruly ones need to be disciplined, and that one is more...difficult than most. Refuses to learn. And we don't want to damage the product anywhere that'll be visible, obviously."

Steve has to breathe through his nose so he doesn't throw up. All the Omega are wearing blockers; probably because the scent of Omega distress would be so off putting.

Tommy waves a hand, "get him out of here, he's bleeding on the rug," and the Omega winces, as he turns. he's got lots of shiny dark curls. Everything about all the Omega is pristine, perfectly maintained hair, nails, flawless skin. The smear of blood on his ankle is even more stark for it, and Steve can't help but stare as the Omega gamely takes what looks like a very painful, shuffling step away again.

"Him," Steve says before he can stop himself, "I want him."

The Omega turns back, looking at Steve with huge, beautiful brown eyes. He's hopeful and fearful all at once, and it tears Steve up inside. He wants to buy all of them, get all of them out of here, but knows he can't. If he does anything to raise suspicion he could fuck the whole thing.

At least he has Hopper's word that the rest of them will be out of here by the end of today.

Tommy scoffs, "Steve, come on, have a proper look. Don't pick that one. Get a pretty one."

Steve wants to swear at Tommy because they're all fucking pretty, ridiculously so, "no, he'll do."

"Oh," Tommy laughs, "I get it, just gonna' wreck him anyway, right? That's fair, can always get another," and he's laughing again and suddenly Steve is dragged into a very detailed conversation about how to move funds - from where and to where, which Steve does. It's an amount of money that under any other circumstances would make Steve's eyes water - but in the face of a human being in pain, Steve doesn't even blink.

It doesn't feel like Steve takes a breath until he's on the interstate, the Omega curled up on the seat next to him. No possessions, no clothes, no bag.

Nothing.

And that had gutted Steve as much as anything else.

"Look, uh, hey, you have a name?"

"Eddie," the Omega answers quietly.

"Right. Eddie. So. This is...well it's going to sound a bit wild but...I'm kind of here for the FBI. I mean. I don't work for them, or anything, but...I was...asked, I guess, to get evidence. So don't worry about everyone else, they're getting rescued later so. That's. A thing, I guess?"

Eddie's just blinking at him.

"Yea. Yeah, I guess that's a lot to take in. But we can talk about it...later? Do you have family? Like, shit, do you have somewhere to go? I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to actually like...buy, a person. Couldn't leave you there though."

"I've...I've got an uncle. Haven't seen him for years. I don't...know."

"Right, right okay. We can talk to Hopper about it," Steve spots a drive through, "you hungry?"

Eddie turns and sees the McDonald's, "oh fuck me yes," he breathes with such vehemence that Steve laughs, "I haven't left the ranch for two years, and they never let us eat anything like that, it's bad for our skin. Plus, we have to stay thin and pretty."

That kills Steve's laughter stone dead.

Hopper rubs at his forehead, "you were not supposed to buy a human being."

"I know but-" Steve turns, Eddie standing behind him, which on it's own makes Steve wince. Eddie's barefoot on the asphalt, half hidden behind Steve, still wearing nothing but that scrap of white fabric. It's now a little smeared with the fry grease Eddie had shamelessly wiped off his fingers. Steve hands over his phone and the suite jacket.

Hopper waves him off, "you did good."

Hopper does something to the back of Steve's phone, peeling something away from it, before giving it back, "somewhere I can take you kid? Any family?"

"I only have an uncle, but I don't...it's been years, I haven't seen him since I was little."

Hopper rubs is hand over his face, the rasp of stubble loud, before he lights another cigarette, "I'll have to find you a motel somewhere while we figure this out."

"He can stay with me." Steve's volunteering before he can really think it though, "I've got...a lot of space," he trails off. He did just rescue this Omega after all, he's not just going to abandon him to be alone somewhere. Somewhere that might not even be safe for a lone Omega.

Hopper raises an eyebrow at Eddie, Eddie shrugs, "not like I've had any better offers lately."

Hopper snorts, but he hands over a business card, "this is highly unorthodox, but...I don't care. I've got bigger things to worry about. Text me any details the kid can give you on the uncle. I'll be in touch."

And then Hopper just...drives away. It's maybe an hour and a half drive back from here, since Steve had to go out of his way for this clandestine meeting in an abandoned car lot.

"So is there anything you...want? Need?"

Eddie seems to think about it for a second, plucking at his nightshirt, "I mean, I don't have any cash, obviously, and I heard how much money you shelled out- I mean, do you think you can comp me from the FBI? Man, you didn't even get a receipt for me."

Steve starts laughing first, then Eddie joins in.

At Eddie's request they get milkshakes on the way home.

#oooooohhhh #👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 #this is AMAZING

[steddiehasmywholeheart]

sure steddie dating pre-season 4 is great and all, steve rushing to eddie to check up on him instead of eddie attack him in the werehouse is nice

BUT

steddie hooking up pre season 4, then sorta-almost-dating but they have a big falling out and they dont see eachother until the werehouse IS JUST SO JUICY

even better if they had the argument bcs steve wasnt telling eddie something to protect him from the upside down fuckery. and in the werehouse they lock eyes as eddie realizes what steve has been lying about, and steve (who just realized he was in love with eddie) realizes he failed and eddie is now in the middle of this crazy dangerous shit and he blames himself ofc

and give me robin who knew steve had someone, but he didnt tell her it was eddie. and she connects the dots and looks at steve and they have a little silent conversation bcs holy shit i knew u were a boy kisser but an eddie kisser?!?!

#literally in love with this #would read sooo much fic on this