#steddie fanfic
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bro u knocked over his drink
read this fic that goes with this art!!
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Congrats on 1000 you deserve 10000000 and I love you very many ♥️ for the requests:
J, mafia AU, smut, ring
You know how I like it 😉😘
Mickala!!! 😍😭💖
Thank you so much, I couldn't have made it without all of your lovely support. I'm so happy to have found you as a friend. Hope you enjoy my silly little Mafia AU!
Coup d'etat
Rated: E
Words: 999
Tags: Mafia AU; dark Eddie Munson; intrigue; blood and violence; bondage; nudity; explicit sexual content; consensual non-con
“Nice pool,” Eddie drawls, walking back from the patio into the house. “Could’ve made a bit more of an effort to clean it. I said to leave the place as you’d like to find it, Dick.”
Richard Harrington’s eyes scream bloody murder, but he doesn’t dare speak. Jeff and Frank have him flanked on either side, guns ready in their holsters, and Gareth is manning the door. Just a precaution. Harrington has been in the business for long enough to know he has lost. All of his most loyal henchmen are dead or on the run, and the more fickle ones have joined Eddie’s side.
“Aw, don’t pout.” Eddie pats the man's cheek jovially. “This is just how it works. Survival of the fittest and all that. Now, I believe that concludes our little tour of the house? Or am I forgetting something?”
Harrington’s face twitches. Jeff laughs and rolls his eyes.
“The bedroom, Eddie?”
“Ah, of course!” Eddie snaps his fingers, like he only just remembered. “Shall we, gentlemen?”
*
A giant bed dominates the far wall of the master bedroom. On the mattress, wrists tied to the headboard, is a boy. The soft, muted light glows off his naked skin.
“Ah,” Eddie mutters. “That’s what I’m talking about. Turns out you can follow directions.”
Harrington says nothing. The boy, who stopped tearing at his restraints when he heard the door open, stares at him with wide, panicked eyes.
“Dad? What- … Who are those people?”
Eddie coos. With a few long strides, he’s at the bed, sinking down onto the mattress. One of his hands finds the boy’s bare ankle, sliding up his leg to a firm, freckled thigh.
“Aw, darling. He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what? Leave me alone, perv!”
The boy tries to shy away from his touch, but he doesn’t get far, bound in place as he is. Eddie chuckles.
“Shhh, honey,” he scolds, cradling that pretty face with both hands. “It's okay. The name's Eddie, I work for your dad. Well, worked.”
The boy blinks at him, hazel eyes large and confused. Eddie laughs softly.
“See, the firm’s under new management. My management, to be more specific. I’m trying to keep it minimum bloodshed, so your old man’s gonna make himself scarce and I’ve agreed not to bother him. In return, I get to keep this fine house … and everything in it.”
Understanding dawns in those pretty eyes.
“No! Don't- don't touch me. Stay away from me.”
Eddie makes a soft shushing sound and wipes the first tears away as they spill over.
“Oh no, sweet thing. It’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll take such good care of- wait a sec.”
Because one of his hands has just slipped up to the boy's temple, fingers carding through thick, chestnut hair - only to come away red and sticky. The boy flinches, but Eddie grabs his jaw, holding him in place so that he can comb his hair aside. There’s a large, bleeding bruise on his temple. For a moment, the only sound in the room is that of the boy's hitched breathing.
“Dick?” Eddie growls. “Explain this?”
“He fought back,” Harrington mutters defiantly. “What was I supposed-”
Eddie has him up against the wall, gun to his throat, before he can finish the sentence.
“Are you kidding me? Trying to slip me damaged goods? I should fucking kill you, you son of a-”
“Eddie,” Frank mutters. “C'mon, man.”
Eddie blinks.
“Right,” he says. “Get him out of my sight.”
Relief washes over Harrington’s face as the gun disappears from his throat - only to be replaced by incredulous horror a second later, when Eddie holds out his hand before his face, palm up.
“Go on, Dick. It's traditional, right? A sign of respect.”
Harrington growls. His hands curl into fists. Eddie smirks, raising an expectant eyebrow. Then, quickly, as if the touch will burn him, Harrington bows his head and kisses Eddie’s rings.
“Not so hard, was it?” Eddie calls after him as he is escorted out. The door clicks shut.
Eddie's smile slips.
“Shit, Stevie,” he breathes. He's back on the bed in an instant, tilting the boy's head with gentle fingers to look at the injury. “What'd you go and do that for? I told you not to fight.”
“And I told you it had to look convincing,” Steve retaliates. “Was I just supposed to let them tie me up and tear off my clothes and thank them for it?”
Eddie's mouth twists into a grin.
“We both know that's how you like it, honey.”
He leans in, claiming those plush lips for a long, filthy kiss. Steve puts up a brief symbolic struggle, but Eddie growls warningly and slips a hand between his legs, and his protests turn into the sweetest little moans. Eddie only allows them to part once they're both out of breath and Steve is starting to buck and grind in his hold.
“Everything went well, then?” Steve asks. His voice is hoarse and raspy, and he needs to stop halfway through for another moan. “The- … the security codes all worked?”
“Flawlessly, you sly little minx,” Eddie murmurs. He bites down on the perfect stretch of that long throat, rolls Steve’s balls in his hand, and delights in the full-body shiver it gets him. “That old asshole didn’t know what hit him.”
Steve lets out a breathy laugh, rolling his hips to meet Eddie’s touch.
“Good. Now untie me, so we can celebrate.”
“Oh?” Eddie smirks, crawling further down and leaving a trail of biting kisses all over the soft skin of Steve’s chest and stomach. “But I am celebrating already.”
Steve groans. “Eddie, c’mon!”
“Ah-ah-ah, Stevie. There’s people out there who think I’m gonna ravage you tonight,” Eddie tuts, grabbing the boy’s twitching hips and blowing a warm stream of air on that pretty, flushed cock. Steve fucking mewls. The sound is like the sweetest music. “Be a good boy now. Gotta make it convincing, no?”
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#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie brainrot#steddie fanfic#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#hype's 1k follower ficlets
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For my beloved @penny00dreadful 💜🖤
My fandom bestie, writing soulmate, and one of my absolute favorite people in the entire world.
Happy (early) Birthday 🌈👠💖
Huge thanks to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help in making this story come to life!
WC: 3483 | Ch 1/4 | AO3 <-
Chapter 1: Over the Rainbow
To be perfectly honest, Steve always felt a little unsafe riding around in the van with Eddie. It wasn’t that he was a bad driver, per se, but he was definitely a distracted one, constantly needing to be reminded to keep his eyes on the road instead of the tape deck. He also tended to treat speed limits as more of a suggestion than something enforceable by law.
Tonight was no exception, the feeling of unease even worse than usual because of the storm raging outside. They shouldn’t have even been on the road in these conditions, a fact Steve had tried in vain to convince Eddie of. Hawkins was under a tornado warning for fuck’s sake! But the other boy wouldn’t hear it, their errand was too important.
They had plenty of beer, but they needed snacks.
According to Eddie there was absolutely no way they could enjoy Friday the 13th part 27, or whatever ridiculous number sequel it was that he wanted to watch, properly without the three basic food groups: Pringles, Twizzlers, and some form of chocolate.
They were having a movie night, just him and Eddie. It was no big deal, really. Steve wasn’t nervous about it at all. They’d been getting along fine since Vecna had been defeated, better than fine! They just… hadn’t spent a lot of one-on-one time together.
Typically, at least Robin, and some-or-all of the kids, would join them on a night like this, but the kids were set on going to the arcade, and Robin—who’d finally gotten over her fear of driving and managed to get her license on the first try—was taking Vickie out for what may or may not be a date, and borrowing Steve’s car to do it.
Therein lay the source of the problem, actually. It was usually Robin’s job to procure movie night snacks, and in her absence neither of them had thought to pick up the slack.
Which is what had led them to this moment.
Flying down the road at 15 miles per hour over the posted speed limit, minimum, in a fucking downpour, at night. They were just asking for a deer or some shit to come bounding across the road and then—BAM!
As if on cue, just as Steve had the thought, something did indeed dart out from the side of the road to cross in front of them. Fortunately, for once, Eddie was actually paying attention. He slammed on the brakes, simultaneously jerking the wheel, allowing them to narrowly miss hitting the poor wild animal.
Unfortunately, that combination of evasive maneuvers caused them to spin out, and sent the van careening into a ditch on the side of the road. The vehicle flipped, and Steve had just enough time to think how glad he was that they’d both been wearing their seatbelts, before something from the rear came flying up to smack him hard in the back of the head.
-
Steve came to slowly, blinking awake, wincing as the bright light of day attacked his retinas.
Day?
But it’d been night, hadn’t it? It was dark, and it was raining, and…
The evening before came back to him in a sudden rush. The van sliding across the road, the sickening crunch of metal as it rolled, gravity doing what gravity does. He didn't remember anything after that, but it looked like somehow they’d managed to land upright in the end at least.
He rubbed at the nape of his neck, pleasantly surprised to find no lumps, bumps, or blood, nor did he feel the telltale nausea that sometimes came with a really bad blow to the head. He wondered if Eddie–
Oh my god, Eddie!
Steve looked to the left, finding the driver's seat empty and was instantly gripped by panic. He scrambled out of the car, nearly falling on his ass in his hurry.
“Eddie?” He called out, fear churning in his gut. “Eddie?!”
He spun a circle, relief washing over him as he found the other boy only a few feet away.
Eddie was sitting on a large tree trunk, rocking ever-so-slightly back and forth, gnawing on his fingernails as he stared at the backside of the van.
“There you are! Dude, you scared the shit out of–” Steve trailed off as he rushed to Eddie’s side to see what he was looking at, and swallowed hard. It was a pair of legs in striped stockings wearing a killer pair of red heels, sticking out from under the rear tires. The shoes glittered cheerfully in the sunlight. “Oh, fuck.”
Eddie dropped his head into his hands. “I thought I swerved in time. I thought we missed it.”
“I thought it was a deer.” Steve mumbled.
Eddie cut him an annoyed glare. “Clearly not, Harrington.”
“Hey,” Steve said softly. He knew Eddie well enough by now to tell when he was scared—when he felt guilty, even if he was trying to act otherwise. “This isn’t your fault. It was an accident.”
“Yeah,” Eddie huffed. “Tell that to the cops! They thought I was a murderer once already. It’s only been a few months where I can actually be seen in public without someone calling me a devil worshiper, or worse. Now they’ll think they have proof that I really am a killer!”
“You know Hop will go to bat for you again, and I’m here. I can be a witness.”
“That’s not all.”
“It somehow gets worse than us accidentally killing some lady?”
Eddie sighed, raking a hand over his face as he rose from the stump. He turned, gesturing to something behind them, but Steve was still stuck on those legs. He couldn’t look away.
“Why the hell was someone out in shoes like that in the middle of the night anyway?” Steve mused. “It was pouring.”
“Steve, look.”
“What if we just said I was driving? Then we– “
“Steve!” Eddie gripped his upper arms, forcibly turning him around.
Steve’s eyes went wide. They were standing right on the edge of a little town. Little, not only in the way that the town itself was small in, like, area, though it was that—about the size of one city block—but for the fact that all the colorful little buildings and bungalows were miniature. The whole thing was surrounded by gardens laden with all sorts of beautiful plants, shrubs, and trees, with flowers of every shade in bloom.
“What the fuck,” Steve breathed, taking a few tentative steps into the vivid village.
“Yeah.”
“Eddie, what the fuck?! Where are we? And why is everything in technicolor?”
Eddie stepped up from behind to clap him on the back.
“I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore, big boy.”
Steve shot him a look over his shoulder. “What was your first clue?”
“I see where Dustin gets his tone from.” Eddie mumbled.
Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “Do you… do you think it’s like the Upside Down?”
“In the sense that it’s another dimension? Maybe, but I don't get the feeling this one has any terrifying monsters. It’s too clean. It even smells nice, like roses and shit.”
“Yeah,” Steve agreed. Eddie had a point, nothing about this place screamed danger. “The Upside Down always smelled like mold and rotting flesh.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.”
“What do we do? How do we get back?” Steve asked, not really expecting Eddie to have all the answers, but he did his best thinking out loud with company.
“No idea.”
“Should we start walking? Maybe try and find a payphone?”
Eddie scoffed. “A payphone?”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
The other boy was quiet for a moment, a rare occurrence, but eventually threw his hands up in defeat. “No, actually. So, I guess walking it is.”
Steve turned back, intending on pilfering the van for things that might be useful, like water, weapons, or one of the many lighters that littered the floor, when something in the distance caught his eye.
“What the hell is that?” He asked aloud, pointing up to the sky at a giant pink bubble that was headed straight for them.
Eddie squinted up at it. “I think there's something inside.”
“Should we run?”
“Maybe we should pop it.”
“You just said there was something inside! Wouldn’t that let it out?”
Eddie shrugged.
In no time, the bubblegum colored sphere settled near them and faded away, leaving behind a woman with long dark wavy hair. She held a long scepter, and wore a tall crown and a poofy ball gown, of all things. There was also something very familiar about her face.
“Wait.”
“No.”
“Is that?”
“It can’t be.”
“Joyce?!” They both said, in tandem.
The woman in the ballgown tilted her head. “Who’s Joyce?”
“You are.” Steve said.
She shook her head, offering him a kind smile. “I’m afraid not. I’m Glinda, the Witch of the North, and who might you be?”
Eddie leaned in, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “Is she serious?”
Steve snorted a laugh, quickly trying to hide it with a cough.
“What’s so funny?” Not-Joyce asked.
“Nothing, uh, I’m Steve, and this is Eddie.”
She stepped carefully around them, pointing her sparkly stick at the half-a-dead-body that jutted out from under Eddie’s van. “What do you boys have to say for yourselves?”
“I’m sorry?” Eddie said, sobering quickly. At the same time Steve insisted, “It was an accident!”
“Stop giving them a hard time, Glinda. They did us a favor!” A strangely familiar voice called out from behind a nearby bush, and a moment later 6 small-ish figures came popping out of the surrounding foliage.
“They killed The Wicked Witch of the East!” The one with curly hair shouted, as the others cheered.
Eddie jumped. “Jesus H. Christ, where did all you little fuckers come from?!”
“Oh my god.” Steve muttered under his breath.
It was the kids, except they were actually kids. The 11-year-old versions of Dustin, Will, Lucas, Mike, Max, and El pushed and shoved their way past each other, all trying to be the first to approach.
“Who you calling little?” Baby-Lucas said.
“Okay, what the hell is going on here guys? Why are you so young, and what’s with the outfits?” Steve asked, completely dumbfounded.
Once he’d gotten over the initial shock of their appearance, Steve realized they were all wearing costumes or something. The girls wore pink frilly dresses and tall pointed bonnets, something he knew for a fact Max would never have agreed to, and the boys had these funny little shorts with long socks and matching tops—except for Dustin, who donned long pants and an even longer coat, along with a striped bow tie and a giant pocket watch hanging from his side.
Eddie looked similarly stunned. “How did you get us here? And how did you get Joyce in on it?”
“Who’s Joyce?” Mini-Mike-Wheeler asked.
“I think they mean me.” Not-Joyce said.
Tiny Dustin’s face twisted up in confusion. “But that’s not your name.”
She shrugged. “I tried telling them that.”
Steve groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay fine, she’s Glinda. Who are you?”
“Oh! I'm the mayor of Munchkinland.” A wide, gummy smile spread across tiny-Dustin’s face as he stuck his arm out, er, up, for a handshake.
Steve stared down at him, unimpressed. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I'm done playing whatever game this is. How do we–”
A sudden explosion went off in the middle of the town square only a few yards away, creating a thick cloud of red smoke. On instinct Steve and Eddie both moved to place themselves between the oncoming threat and the Munchkins.
The air cleared quickly, revealing a woman in a long black dress and matching cloak, carrying a broom and wearing a hard scowl.
Steve blinked at her, then looked at Eddie for confirmation that they were seeing the same thing.
“Mrs. Click?”
Eddie nodded.
Her complexion was all wrong but the resemblance was uncanny.
Steve leaned in, whispering, “If that’s Click, who do you think the one we hit was?”
Eddie grinned. “O’Donnel.”
“I am the Wicked Witch of the West. You killed my sister. Prepare to die.” The newcomer declared loudly, sneering at the two of them.
Eddie rounded on her, pointing a finger right in her face. “Look lady, we’ve had just about enough–”
Steve grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back. “What my friend here means to say is, it was an accident and we’re very sorry.”
“I’ll show you an accident, young man,” The Wicked Witch said, raising her green hands and long pointy nails threateningly in their direction.
“Aren't you forgetting something?” Glinda raised her voice, as she too moved to protect the little ones.
“The ruby slippers! Yes!” The Wicked Witch smiled gleefully and made a beeline for Eddie’s van.
When her back was to them, Glinda winked at Steve and did some kind of wavy-woo with her stick, which, in hindsight he realized was a wand, and the red shoes disappeared from the dead body’s feet right before their eyes, reappearing in Steve’s hand a second later.
“They’re gone!” The Wicked Witch gasped, whirling on the spot and narrowing her eyes at him.
“Why is it always me?” Steve grumbled, resigned to the fight, only to find Eddie taking a protective step in front of him as she approached.
“You! Give them back. I’m the only one who knows how to use them. They’re of no use to you!”
She wasn’t wrong, but Steve felt like maybe it wasn’t the best idea to give what he suspected was a powerful magical object to a woman whose sister they’d just murdered. All those months of spectating while the party played D&D were finally paying off.
“Put them on and stay tight inside of them, Steve.” Glinda said, her tone grave. “Their magic must be very powerful, or she wouldn't want them so badly.”
Nailed it.
“You stay out of this, Glinda, or I'll fix you as well!”
The Good Witch waved her off. “You have no power here. Now be gone before someone drops a… a… a…” She stuttered, waffling as if searching for the right word.
“A van?” Eddie supplied.
“Ah, yes. Thank you, Eddie dear.” She cleared her throat, pausing for what Steve could only assume was dramatic effect. “Now, be gone before someone drops a van on you, too!”
“Very well, but I'll be watching.” The Wicked Witch hissed, zeroing in on Steve once again. “I’ll get you my pretty-boy, and your little dog too!”
“Hey! Who are you calling a dog? You looked in the mirror lately?! Witch.” Eddie spat.
She huffed, raising her broomstick high above her head and bringing it down hard against the road at her feet, sending more red smoke billowing up from the spot to quickly engulf her form. When it was gone, so was she.
“Little dog. Pfft.” Eddie muttered.
“It’s the hair.” Little-Max said, matter-of-factly.
“Yes,” Tiny-Dustin agreed, nodding as he rubbed stubby fingers against his small chin. “The word scruffy does come to mind, to be fair.”
“Watch it, Mayor.” Eddie warned.
“That, and the way you were guarding your friend there.” Little-Max spoke again.
Eddie glowered as she dissolved into giggles that quickly spread through the small crowd. Soon all the Munchkins, as well as Glinda, were clutching their sides with laughter.
Steve didn’t get what was so funny.
“Don’t listen to them, Munson. I like your hair. It’s very… metal.”
Eddie put on a show of rolling his eyes, but under it all was a shy pleased smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”
“That’s rough, boys. You’ve made quite the enemy. The sooner you get out of Oz the better I think.” Glinda said, when the laughter had finally faded.
“And how do we do that exactly?” Eddie asked. “The van’s broken down, and even if it wasn't, I have no idea where the hell we are or how we even got here! Let alone how to get back to Hawkins.”
“The only person who might be able to help you would be The Great and Wonderful Wizard of Oz himself.”
Steve pursed his lips. “Okay, I'll bite. How do we find this Great Wizard?” It took all his strength not to put those last two words in air quotes.
“He lives in the Emerald city.” She said.
“And how do we get there?”
“Follow the yellow brick road, of course.”
Eddie shook his head. “Of course, she says.”
“Do you not have yellow brick roads where you come from?”
“No.” Steve snapped. He was already so tired of this shit, and somehow he knew that the end of, whatever this was, was nowhere in sight.
“My, my, you two are grumpy.” Glinda muttered. Without another word she took a few steps away from them and waved her wand, conjuring a new pink bubble around herself.
“Wait, you can’t just leave us here with these kids!” Steve shouted, but it was too late, The Good Witch had already started to float away.
“We’re not kids, y’know.” Tiny-Dustin said.
“You look like kids.”
“Whatever.” The boy shrugged, taking one of their hands in each of his. “Come on, we’ll walk you to the edge of town.”
-
The edge of town turned out to be roughly 10 feet away from where the van had landed, which wasn’t a surprise given the compact nature of Munchkinland as a whole, but it did have Steve wondering why they even bothered.
At least the kids—sorry, the Munchkins, had been helpful enough to point out the yellow brick road.
As if they could have missed it.
Eddie let out a long whistle. “Wow, that is YELL-ow. Like, I know they said it, but I guess I expected it to be dull or dirty or something, not this bright sunshine color. Kinda reminds me of that sweater you used to wear.”
Steve tucked the pair of heels awkwardly under his arm and started down the path, wishing he had a bag or something to put them in. Holding onto them like this was going to get annoying fast.
“Aren't you going to put those on first?” Eddie asked.
“Are you serious, Munson?” Steve slowed his pace, turning to gape at him.
Eddie grinned, bumping their elbows together when he caught up. “What, afraid you can’t walk in ‘em?”
“I wear a size 13 men’s shoe, they’re never gonna fit me!”
For a fraction of a second Eddie’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Jesus, guess I was onto something with that nickname, big boy.”
Steve rolled his eyes, shoving the shoes in Eddie’s direction. “Why don’t you put them on?”
“No, that Glinda lady gave them to you, expressly.”
“I'm telling you they’re not gonna fit.”
“Magic shoes, Steve.” Eddie wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “Magic shoes! Just try, I'm sure it’ll be fine.”
Steve glared as he toed his sneakers off, tying the laces together before throwing them over Eddie’s shoulder, and finally slipped his feet into the sequin adorned pumps.
They fit like a glove.
He twisted at the waist, glancing behind his own back, sticking first one leg out, and then the other, as he looked down at himself. “Hmm, they do make my ass look nice, I guess.”
He also just so happened to be wearing his date night jeans, the ones that hugged him in all the right places, and with the addition of the shoes? It was a good look, if he did say so himself.
A high pitched noise escaped Eddie’s throat. “As if you needed any more help in that department.” He mumbled under his breath.
Steve swallowed hard. “What’d you say?”
“Nothing.”
Eddie was always doing that—flirting, making little comments and then pretending he hadn’t. It drove Steve crazy, never sure if Eddie actually meant it, or if he just liked to tease—not quite sure which answer he hoped was the truth.
Steve turned on his heel, literally, and strode away, tired of wasting time. His first few steps were a bit wobbly, a little like a newborn calf learning to walk, but he got the hang of it pretty quickly. He wasn’t, like, swaying his hips side-to-side confident or anything—yet—but he was reasonably sure he wasn’t going to randomly fall over. It was good enough for now.
“What are we looking for again?” He asked without turning around.
“The Emerald city.” Eddie replied, falling into step beside him again, cheeks a little pink. “The little guy who looked like Will said we’d know it when we saw it.”
“Nicely vague, figures.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. They seem to take everything very literally around here, so my guess is if we see a place with a lot of big bright green buildings, that’ll be the one.”
Ch 2: Yellow Brick Road
Ch 3 (coming 4/27)
Ch 4 ( coming 4/28)
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter(s)!
#steddie fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#stranger things#steddie wizard of oz#post season 4#eddie lives#steve harrington/eddie munson#steve x eddie#steddie fic#gift fic#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#the party
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verrrrey tempted to write an i am not okay with this steddie AU… hmmm… but i have so much work to be done before…
#steddie#stranger things#i am not okay with this#i am not ok with this netflix#steddie au#steddie fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie
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ao3 (includes pt2)
Eddie knows he’s gonna lose it one day. Every single time he watches Steve put his hands on his hips and reprimands the feral teens, he wants to jump the man’s bones.
He ends up pinching whatever exposed skin he has when the urge hits him, leaving itty bitty bruises behind.
It works for months until one evening when Eddie lets his guard down and is 3 beers deep. Steve is leaning against the wall with his shoulder holding himself up. Eddie is telling him about how he had to haul Mike off Dustin the day before and Steve out of habit slides his hand up onto his hip.
Eddie stops midsentence and lets his eyes follow the long lean line of Steve’s body to his fingers.
“What?” Steve asks in confusion.
“Huh?” Eddie’s mouth is open when he looks back up.
“You stopped talking.”
“Well fuck, man.” Eddie sighs and flops against the wall near Steve, his back hitting flat and puffing out a huff of air. “You-you do that bitchy fucking stance and it drives me crazy. I wanna…UGH!” He covers his face, the beer can he’s holding presses against his cheek.
“You wanna what?” Steve sounds nervous.
Eddie whines and stomps his feet a little, trying to hold back his answer. It’s so close to falling out, resting on the tip of his tongue.
“You wanna what, man?” Steve’s voice coming out stronger like he’s daring Eddie to be honest.
Eddie drops his hands and pouts over at Steve. “Don’t make me say it.” He shifts from one foot to the other.
“Say what? You’re acting weird.” Steve stands up straight and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Oh goooood, then you do that.” Eddie whines. “You don’t even know, look at you.” He sighs and flops his arms in defeat.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve stares like he’s watching a car crash.
“I WANT TO FUCK YOU! You stand like that and-and I can’t think. It makes me crazy. Like-like feral animal crazy. I want to rip your clothes off and scratch my nails down your chest and watch you tell those little shits off. I can’t fucking take it!” Eddie groans, spins on his heels, and stomps away.
Steve stands in shock, letting Eddie’s words sink in. After a brief moment he shrugs to himself and murmurs, “ok.”
Robin’s head pops around the corner. “What’d you say?”
Pt 2-ish
coffee? ☕️🍩💕
#steve doesn’t understand what the big deal is#he would’ve been having sex with Eddie for months#all he had to do was ask#steddie#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddiecameraroll posts#steve x eddie#steddie fanfic#stranger things#my writing
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No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.
And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.
And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."
Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.
Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.
For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.
And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.
And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.
But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.
And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.
But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.
Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.
They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.
Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.
"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."
"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."
Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.
"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."
And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.
This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."
He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.
His next words come out without effort, without intent.
"Don't call me that."
He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.
"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"
Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."
Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.
"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"
Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.
His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.
"...You know."
Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.
Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.
Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.
"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."
Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.
"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."
Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.
"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"
Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."
Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.
"Yeah?"
Steve hums again.
"What about... sweetheart?"
Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.
"Yeah."
Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.
"Honey?"
Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."
Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"
Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.
"Especially big boy."
Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.
Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.
"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"
Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.
"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."
Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.
His response is overwhelming.
Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.
And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.
He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.
Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.
"You know which one's my favorite?"
Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"
"Look at me."
Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.
It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.
Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.
The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.
"Baby."
Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.
"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.
"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."
This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.
"Think that can be arranged, baby."
#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#steve x eddie#steddie headcanon#absolutely no idea where this came from#but it's here#first kiss#mutual pining#flirting#steddie first kiss#teasing#steve harrington is down bad#eddie munson is down equally bad#idk how to tag things
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smooth operator
written for ‘hole’ | wc: 404 | rated: m | cw: n/a @steddiemicrofic
Crowd-work is Eddie Munson’s favorite part of stand-up. It’s actually become a niche of sorts, and tonight is no different.
“Something I’ve noticed in my time fucking men,” Eddie leads with, strolling across the makeshift stage, “is that you can tell how hot a guy is by how he takes off his shirt.”
The audience chuckles collectively.
“Don’t look at me like that, you know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. We’ve all seen movies. You, in the navy blue,” Eddie gestures with his chin at a man sitting at a hightop with two girls. “You’re a good-lookin’ guy. Let’s see if you’re hot. Show us how you take your shirt off.”
Without hesitating, Blue Shirt stands up and in one swift motion, grabs the back of his shirt with one hand and tugs it off over what Eddie tries not to think is perfectly soft, perfectly messy copper locks. Turns out, it’s easy to not think about his hair, because every rational and coherent thought he’s ever had about anything comes to a screeching halt.
It kills his set because that’s not the Hot Guy Method he’s been referring to but there’s not a chance in cold, dark Hell he can stand on stage and lie in front of this cheering, clapping audience. This guy is fucking hot.
“Oh my God,” he says in the microphone as Blue Shirt shrugs and flushes, just a hint of pink crawling from the hollow of his throat to his cheeks. “That’s never worked before. That’s never worked. I did not— wow, I did not see that coming.”
The crowd continues to laugh and applaud, Blue Shirt sitting confidently on his barstool with his shirt still in hand. Motherfucker doesn’t even have the decency to put it back on so Eddie can move on.
He’s really dug himself a fucking hole with this one, huh?
“Jesus H. Christ, I meant to do the motion. And that’s— listen, that wasn’t the hot way I meant but for the first time ever, audience, I admit defeat. I don’t know what the Hell just happened, but that’s the hot way now.”
Blue Shirt raises his glass and fucking winks at him, before calling out in response. “Buy me a drink after the show and I’ll show you the hot way to take off a belt, too.”
Eddie’s jaw falls open and Blue Shirt wiggles his eyebrows with a smirk.
author's note: sometimes, you see a video of a stand-up comedian and drop literally everything you're doing to make it about your blorbos. this is one such time. @henderdads @steddieasitgoes it’s here!
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#steddiemicrofic#steddie microfic#steddiemicroficjanuary#myblurbs
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i don’t want a ‘career’ ! i want to write sexy fanfiction for my internet friends <3
#and somehow get paid for it#my college degree is sitting there collecting dust#while i write steddie angst and make people cry#marissa’s unfiltered thoughts#steddie#steddie writers#fanfiction#steddie fanfiction#ao3 writers#ao3#steddie fic recs#fanfic writer#steddie fanfic#writing#fanfiction is for self care#ao3 funny#ao3 things#ao3 is superior
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I had the absolute pleasure of getting to write a fic based on this amazing art by @ahhrenata for @strangerthingsreversebigbang!
Link to art post
Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!
Read the fic on ao3 or under the cut!
Eddie rolls over with a groan. He feels awful. He can’t breath out of his nose, there’s so much pressure in his head he feels like it might explode and his throat feels like he swallowed a cup of razors. He lets out a truly pathetic whimper, the sound catching in his throat as it turns into a cough. He stretches his arm out, feeling around for Steve and is met with cold, empty sheets. He whines again and finally pries his eyes open.
“Stevie?”
He hears Steve pad down the hall and then he’s opening the door to their room, a soft smile on his face as he peers down at Eddie on the bed. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
Eddie sniffles loudly. “I don’t feel good.”
Steve sighs and leans against the door frame. “I told you not to go out in the cold with Dustin the other night. You didn’t even have a coat.”
Eddie groans again and flops over, reaching his hand out to Steve. “Come cuddle with me.”
Steve huffs out a laugh. “You’re whiny when you’re sick.”
But he pushes off the doorframe and crawls onto the bed, dropping down next to Eddie and letting him wrap his limbs around his body and press his face against Steve’s chest.
Eddie snuggles in and hums, ready to fall back asleep for forever, or until he can actually breathe again. Whichever comes first.
Steve’s hand lands on his forehead, pushing his bangs out of the way. “Baby, you’re hot.”
Eddie lets out a little chuckle, his voice low and raspy from the pain in his throat. “I’m flattered, sweetheart. But I don’t think I’m really up for anything sexy right now, Stevie.”
Steve swats his arm. “I wasn’t coming onto you, asshole. You have a fever.”
Steve pulls away, like he’s going to get back up and Eddie holds on tighter to him, another whine slipping out of his lips.
Steve rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go get you some stuff.”
Eddie’s hand flops onto the bed as Steve gets up and disappears from the room. Eddie rolls back over, pulling the blankets up and burrowing under them to fall back asleep.
–
Eddie wakes up to Steve nudging him gently, holding out a little cup of red liquid. Eddie’s face scrunches up in disgust and he shakes his head with a groan, trying to hide under the covers again. “I hate that shit.”
Steve rolls his eyes and tugs the blanket back. “Eds, you gotta take this. It’ll bring your fever down. Come on.”
Eddie groans again, but pulls himself up to sit and takes the little shot of medicine with a grimace.
Steve chuckles beside him. “I’ve seen you drink jager straight from the bottle and you’re making that face over cherry cough medicine?”
Eddie shoots him a cocky grin. “Jager is good though. That shit tastes like pennies.”
Steve shakes his head, pulling the covers back up around Eddie’s chin. “There’s tissues and water next to you on the table. You want me to drag the TV in here?”
Eddie shakes his head, already settling back into the pillows and drifting off. He reaches out a hand to tug at Steve’s wrist.
Steve sighs, climbing under the blankets with him and pulling him close. “You’re gonna get me sick.”
Eddie grins and plants a wet kiss to the back of Steve’s hand before he falls asleep again.
–
The next time Eddie resurfaces it’s to Steve’s fingers trailing softly through his hair. He sniffs, whining when it makes the pressure in his head spike.
“Made you some soup, baby. You hungry?”
Eddie nods and forces himself to sit up, smiling at Steve when he hands him a bowl of chicken noodle. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Steve leans over and presses a kiss to Eddie’s temple. “You sure you don’t want the TV in here? We could watch some movies.”
Eddie shrugs. “I’ll probably just fall asleep five minutes in. But you can bring it in if you’re bored.”
Steve shakes his head and grabs a book off his side table, wiggling it in the air. “I’m good.”
Eddie’s eyes lock on the book and his jaw drops open. “Are you finally reading The Lord of the Rings?”
Steve flashes him a big grin and nods. “They’re confusing though. How do you keep track of all these crazy names?”
Eddie chuckles. “You get used to it after a while.” He sets his empty bowl aside and lays back down, peering up at Steve with big, pleading eyes. “Will you read to me?”
Steve’s face scrunches up. “I’m not very good.”
Eddie scoots in closer, plopping his head onto Steve’s lap. “I just want to hear your voice.”
Steve’s hand finds its way back into Eddie’s curls again. “Do you want me to start over?”
Eddie shakes his head. “I’ve read them like ten times. You can start where you left off.”
Steve nods and opens the book, clearing his throat. “‘I wish it need not have happened in my time,’ said Frodo.”
Eddie lets the familiar words wash over him. Steve’s voice making him feel safe and warm, the fingers in his hair soothing him to sleep.
–
Eddie wakes up again, his throat burning and raw. He’s alone in the bed again and it’s dark. The blankets tucked in tight around him, making him over heated, his hair plastered to his forehead. He sits up, reaching for a tissue as a harsh cough racks his body. He groans, wincing as he wipes his mouth.
Eddie hates being sick. And yeah. He knows nobody likes being sick. Obviously. But he can’t stand it. It makes him feel trapped in his own body. Trapped in his bed. He doesn’t like to sit still for so long. To feel like he can’t do anything.
The door creaks open, a sliver of light peeking through before it disappears again, Steve’s body blocking it out as he leans in, a sad little smile on his face. “You okay, baby? Heard you coughing.”
Eddie lets out a pathetic whine, falling against the pillows again, somehow still exhausted even though he slept through most of the day already. “No.”
Steve pushes the door open the rest of the way, comes up to him and puts his hand on his forehead before making a little tsk noise, and brushing his hair out of his face. “I’m going to get you another dose of medicine.”
Eddie groans, grabbing Steve’s wrist and shaking his head.
Steve chuckles, bending down to press a kiss to Eddie’s temple. “What if I bring you a popsicle to chase it with? Make your throat feel a little better.”
Eddie’s eyes flick up to Steve’s, his eyebrows shooting up. “Not sure your popsicle is going to help my throat much but–”
Steve rolls his eyes with a smile, tugging his arm back and shaking his head. “Would you stop? You’re awful.” He heads back to the door, turning back with his hands on his hips. “Orange or cherry?”
Eddie whines. “No grape?”
Steve chuckles. “You and Dustin ate all the grape, baby.”
Eddie huffs out a breath. “Orange then.”
Eddie grins as Steve leaves the room. He really hates being sick. But he doesn’t mind this whole Steve-taking-care-of-him thing. That part’s pretty nice. He can’t really remember the last time someone did this for him. Thinks it must have been his mom, when he was still little. Remembers curling up with her on the couch, her humming softly as he fell asleep.
He doesn’t have a lot of good memories with her. Mostly screaming matches with his dad, and her disappearing for weeks at a time. But there were a few times when things were good. When he felt loved. When he really felt like he understood what it was like to be wanted.
And then he’d gone to live with Wayne. And he did his best. And Eddie knows he loves him. Knows he would do anything for him. But he’s a grumpy old man who never thought he’d be raising a kid. His version of taking care of Eddie when he was sick was buying some soup and leaving it on the counter for Eddie to make while he was at work. And that was fine. Eddie is grateful for everything Wayne has done for him. It just wasn’t exactly a lovey household. Not that it wasn’t full of love. They just…didn’t really show it.
But he feels the love in everything Steve does. Sees it in the way Steve’s eyes light up when they look at him. In the way his hands always linger. No matter where they touch. Like he never wants to be more than a breath away from him.
Like he wants nothing more than to bring him a stupid orange popsicle when his throat hurts to make him feel better.
Eddie smirks as Steve comes back into the room, cough medicine in one hand, popsicle in the other.
–
Eddie feels a little better when he wakes up the next morning. Late morning. The room bright with the sun peeking in through the blinds. He’s still sick. Still can’t really breathe normally. His throat is still protesting every time he tries to swallow. But he feels a little less dead. And he didn’t wake up drenched in sweat this time so, hopefully that means his fever is gone. Thanks to Steve’s stupid medicine. Not that he’d ever admit that to him.
Steve comes in with a plate piled high with toast, and a mug of tea that Eddie is sure has way too much honey in it, for his throat.
Eddie takes the offered breakfast with a sleepy smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Steve presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “You’re welcome, baby. You feeling better?”
Eddie shrugs, stuffing half a piece of toast in his mouth. Steve climbs onto the bed with him, grabbing Eddie’s book from the table on his side of the bed, settling back against the pillows.
Eddie perks up, shifting so he can watch the way Steve’s mouth wraps around the words Eddie knows by heart. They’re some of his favorite configurations of words in the world, and Steve somehow makes him love them even more. He loves the slight hesitancy he has as he stumbles over the names, the pauses he adds in strange spots when he’s clearly trying to piece parts of the story together. He can tell he’s really trying to get it. Trying to understand why Eddie loves this so much. Trying to understand Eddie more. Which he’s pretty sure no one else has done before.
Everyone else just takes him at face value. The loud, over the top, obnoxious behavior, his weird obsessions and interests. People either look at him and want nothing to do with him, or they look at him in awe, like he’s something shiny, something to distract them from whatever bullshit is going on in their own lives. But he’s never had someone look at him like he’s something to be treasured. To dive into and see all the sides of. Until Steve.
Steve, who he knows hates half of the stuff Eddie is into but still asks questions. Who knows Eddie’s favorite songs and books and movies. Who knows he prefers grape popsicles. Who looks at him in that awestruck way even when he’s quiet. When he’s just existing in their space, not putting on a front or a show. Steve still sees him, even then.
Eddie leans forward and presses his lips to Steve’s, cutting him off mid sentence.
Steve huffs out a laugh against Eddie’s lips before pushing him back. “Is my reading that bad?”
Eddie shakes his head and takes another bite of toast, getting crumbs all over the bed as he scooches closer to Steve who lifts his arm to tuck Eddie into his side.
–
By day four Eddie is still feeling pretty bad, and worn out, but also bored. He still doesn’t have the energy to leave their bed much but he also can’t stand just laying around anymore.
He shuffles his way out to the living room, ignoring Steve’s squawk of protest as he spots him from where he’s doing dishes in the kitchen. Eddie makes it halfway to the coffee table before Steve is there, a hand towel slung over his shoulder as he tries to push Eddie back down the hall.
“What are you doing? Go back to bed.”
Eddie groans and gestures to his stack of notebooks on the table. “I’m bored, Steve. I want to work on my campaign.”
Steve nudges him back again, a crease forming between his brows. “I’ll bring them to you. Go lay down.”
Eddie lets out an annoyed whine but turns and heads back down the hall, collapsing on the bed where he immediately lets out a sigh of relief, the pressure that was building in his head from being vertical backs off as soon as he hits the pillows. Because Steve was right, of course. He should have just asked him to grab his stuff for him.
Steve comes in a few minutes later with all of Eddie’s notebooks and campaign books piled high in his arms. He dumps them on the bed and disappears again, coming back with a stack of Eddie’s tapes and his walkman, adding them to the mess on the bed and perching on the edge.
Eddie grins at him. “You’re the best, you know that?”
Steve shrugs, a little blush flashing on his cheeks. He reaches out and squeezes Eddie’s knee. “Just know you like to listen to music while you work. I’ll bring you some dinner in a little bit, okay?”
Eddie watches as he gets up to go, smirk firmly in place as he pulls his notebooks closer to him and flips the top one open, trying to jump back into the story he was forming.
–
Eddie stares down at his notebook, sniffing loudly and tossing a crumpled up tissue onto the floor next to the bed. He taps his pen on the page, trying to will the scene to write itself. A cough works its way up the back of his throat and sticks there, making him hack over and over until he’s pulling in a wheezing breath and falling back against the pillows.
“Fuck me.” He groans out, shoving his notebook away with a huff. He hates being sick. Can’t even manage to focus on his campaign for more than fifteen minutes before he’s coughing and exhausted and–
Steve pushes the door open with his hip, a steaming bowl of soup in his hands and a bright smile that reaches his eyes on his face.
Eddie sighs, pulling himself up to sit against the headboard and lets Steve fuss over pillow placements as he hands over the soup. He stares up at Steve, his chest full of adoration for this wonderful man who works himself into a tizzy because Eddie didn’t make sure he was properly supported by his pillows. Because how is his gorgeous man even real? How did Eddie get so lucky?
Eddie sets his soup on the side table as Steve leans over him, trying to manhandle Eddie into a position he deems acceptable and Eddie grabs his face, pulling him into a soft kiss, smiling against Steve’s mouth when he feels him melt a little into the touch.
Steve pulls back with a chuckle, pushing against Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s like you’re trying to get me sick, Eds.”
Eddie lets out a laugh and sniffs, trying not to be an oozing, gross mess with Steve so up close and personal. “Sorry. I just can’t help myself when you’re being so sweet.”
Steve’s face blooms red and he ducks his head with a little shake before standing and grabbing Eddie’s soup off the table again, pushing it back into Eddie’s hands. “Eat your soup, baby.”
Eddie gives him a little two finger salute and nods, dimple popping on his check. “Yes, sir.”
Steve rolls his eyes as Eddie takes a big spoonful, making an obnoxiously loud slurp just to see the way Steve’s face scrunches in disgust.
–
Eddie wakes up in the middle of the night, coughing and wheezing, trying to catch his breath and be quiet so he doesn’t wake up–
Steve’s hand lands on his back, rubbing gently.
Eddie groans, looking guiltily over at Steve. “Sorry I woke–” His voice catches on another cough, sending him into another fit.
Steve sits up, hand still on Eddie’s back, the other coming up to sweep the hair away from his face. “It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”
Eddie nods, sucking in a deep breath and trying to ignore the tickle in the back of his throat threatening another cough. Steve gets up and heads out of the room, coming back with a glass of water that he hands to Eddie before sliding back into bed, his hand finding its way back to its spot on Eddie’s back. Eddie takes a couple of small sips before setting the glass aside and laying back down, Steve scooches in close, pressing their foreheads together, one hand still on Eddie’s back, the other working its way to tangle in his hair.
Eddie hums reaching up to cup Steve’s face, feeling content as his eyes slip closed.
–
The next morning Eddie wakes up feeling much better. He’s still a little stuffy, but his throat doesn’t hurt anymore and his head feels a little clearer. Like the sick haze is starting to dissipate. He stretches, letting out a satisfied groan and slips up to jump in the shower.
The hot water does wonders for him and by the time he steps out of the bathroom, rubbing his drenched hair with a towel, he feels almost human again.
He glances over at Steve, still fast asleep in the bed. Eddie’s brow scrunches together and he looks at the clock. 11:15am.
Huh. Steve never sleeps in this late. He gets up obnoxiously early to work out before he gets moving for the day. Eddie climbs back into the bed and presses soft kisses along Steve’s jaw, smiling when his sleepy eyes peek open at him.
“You slept in.” Eddie traces his fingers along Steve’s arm.
Steve lets out a little whimper, pressing his face into the pillows.
Eddie pushes some hair out of Steve’s face, his fingers grazing his forehead which is blazing.
Eddie curses under his breath, planting his hand more firmly on Steve’s skin. “Oh no, sweetheart.”
Steve peers up at him with big, sad puppy eyes, his voice strained and nasally. “I’m sick, Eds.”
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie fanfic#stranger things reverse big bang#strbb#steddie fluff#ahhrenata#lady lostmind
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is it casual now?, pt. one
pt. two
dumb love, i love being stupid, dream of us in a year. maybe we’d have an apartment and you’d show me off to your friends at the pier. i know, “baby, no attachment,” but we’re… knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?
“but like… why not just tell him?” robin asks. they’re laying on their backs on steve’s floor, side by side, legs tangled together while a fleetwood record spins out the low sounds of stevie nicks’s voice. “you’re already banging, so what’s the point? you’re practically dating.”
“what? no.” steve replies, taking one last hit from the joint they’ve been passing back and forth before handing it back to robin so she can drop it into the ashtray near her elbow. “it’s not dating. it’s strictly sexual.”
“you’ve never in your life been strictly sexual with anyone,” robin snorts.
steve scowls. this is kind of a sore subject for him because yeah. he’s never done this casual thing before and he’s never really wanted to. he doesn’t even really want to now.
he’s silent for so long that robin’s perfectly capable of understanding exactly what he’s thinking. “oh,” she breathes out. “oh no.”
“stop, please. it was mutual.” steve doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears.
“okay. yeah. sure.” steve hates how much she sounds like she’s trying to placate him.
“it’s really not a big deal. it’s fine. we’re having fun. i’m having fun.” steve’s embarrassed by how rehearsed he sounds.
“yeah, no, totally. for sure.”
they lay there without speaking again for a long time after that.
~*~
“god, you’re so cute, stevie, cooking me breakfast.” steve’s standing in front of the stove in his kitchen a few days later when eddie comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, nuzzling into steve’s neck. steve can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.
“don’t get too used to it,” steve tells him, plating the first batch of french toast. “woke up early enough to eat before work for the first time in, like, three months.”
“well i appreciate it,” eddie says, letting steve turn in his arms. steve can’t help himself; he leans in for a kiss and eddie returns it enthusiastically.
eddie’s never spent the night like this before. usually he’s out of the house before steve wakes up in the morning. most of the time he leaves before they even have the chance to fall asleep together. steve tries not to take it too personally. eddie’s a busy guy and what they’re doing is nothing serious. eddie had been sure to make that clear the first few times they’d seen each other naked.
steve tries not to read too much into it as eddie takes the plate from his hands and pulls himself up to sit on the island countertop just across from where steve’s leaning next to the stove with his own plate. he tries not to get his hopes up but he can’t help the flutter in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach as they eat breakfast together before he has to go to work. he tries his best to ignore the pull he feels toward eddie, the way his hands itch to plant themselves on eddie’s hips and pull him in. he pushes down the disappointment that arises when eddie changes out of the sweats he’d clearly taken from steve’s dresser drawers and back into his own clothes. he ignores the tiny little pang in his chest when eddie says goodbye and leaves, even though steve has to leave for work in ten minutes anyway. he tries to ignore the little voice in his head that points out that eddie doesn’t even kiss him goodbye.
~*~
it goes on like that for a while. eddie starts spending enough nights at steve’s house that steve can’t help but become hopeful. he has his own green toothbrush sitting right next to steve’s red one on his bathroom sink. his hair has started to smell like steve’s shampoo. eddie’s stopped insisting that they’re just casual every time steve leans in for a kiss. sometimes they don’t even fuck, they just fall asleep together watching a movie, with the tv playing softly in the background.
steve’s not delusional. he knows that it’s not a relationship. but that hope is back and he’s helpless against its forces building inside him every time he says goodbye to eddie at his front door. his t-shirts have started going missing, ones with hawkins high emblazoned across the front, ones that he knows robin wouldn’t be caught dead in. eddie’s the only one who could be taking them, but steve can’t figure out why he’s being so secretive about it. he still hasn’t been able to catch him at it. but it has to mean something, right?
steve starts to let himself fantasize about what could happen if he just confessed to eddie. if he just admitted, once and for all, that he’d never wanted to do this whole friends with benefits thing that eddie’s been insisting on. he’s not totally sure that eddie would be a hundred percent receptive, but it’s only happening in his own brain, so he can have the ending he wants for now.
“jesus, dingus, what the hell is going on with you lately?” robin asks, sounding irritated as she comes to stand next to him behind the counter at family video. “i’ve been trying to get your attention for ten minutes.”
“what? sorry.” steve drags a hand across his face. “just thinking.”
“oh really,” robin snorts. “about what?”
“just…” steve sighs. “remember when we were talking a few months ago?”
robin raises her eyebrows at him.
“i mean, you know. about eddie.” his voice drops into a whisper at the end, as if eddie might be hiding behind one of the vhs displays, even though it’s a tuesday morning and the two of them are alone in the store.
“oh. yes. i remember.” robin sounds just a tiny bit apprehensive.
“well… i think something’s changed.”
“changed? how?”
“i mean, he’s started sleeping over my house a lot more. sometimes we don’t even… you know. have sex.” he whispers the last two words, looking over his shoulder. “i think he’s stealing my t-shirts.”
“okay,” robin draws out the second syllable, elongating the ‘a’ sound, making it clear that steve has to be a bit more specific.
“do you think he… i don’t know. do you think maybe he wants something more? like, maybe to date? or like, whatever.” steve runs a hand through his hair nervously. this is the first time he’s admitting he wants something more out loud.
robin considers for a long moment. “honestly, i don’t know. i’ve never made it past kissing anyone before.” steve’s shoulders slump. “but there’s only one real way to find out.”
“how?” steve grunts, even though he already knows the answer.
“you gotta talk to him, man.” steve groans. “i know, dingus. it sucks.” she reaches out to rub his back, an attempt at comfort.
it almost works.
~*~
steve thinks about it for a few days. about three weeks ago, eddie had started kissing him goodbye every time they parted ways at steve’s front door and he hasn’t missed a goodbye kiss yet. that has to mean something. it has to.
it’s a movie night—eddie’s choice—when steve finally gathers the courage to say something to him.
“can i talk to you?” steve says, sounding far more confident than he actually feels. he’s pulled his legs up under himself on the couch and turned sideways to stare at eddie’s profile.
“um, yeah,” eddie replies a bit distractedly, eyes glued to the tv screen as he reaches for the remote next to him. he pauses the film and only then does he turn to face steve. he smiles, dimples showing. “what’s up, stevie? i don’t pause the thing for just anyone.”
that makes steve feel a little less nervous. it feeds the hope in his chest. he runs a hand through his hair. “okay, well. i was thinking about, like, what we’re doing.”
“what we’re doing?” eddie tilts his head to the side just a little, looking confused.
“yeah, like. you know. you’ve said you want to keep things casual but i was thinking that maybe we could…” steve trails off, unsure of how to continue.
“we could…?” eddie prompts, but he’s starting to look a little apprehensive.
“i mean, i know you said that you don’t really do the non-casual type of thing or whatever, but i was thinking like. i don’t know, that we could, like, go on a date? maybe?” steve hates how unsure he sounds at the end, how his voice turns up at the end.
eddie just looks at him for a long moment. “i thought we were on the same page, steve.”
okay, he’s not ‘stevie’ anymore, but maybe this is just a miscommunication.
“we were,” steve responds, swallowing hard. “i mean, we are. i think.” then he corrects himself. “or, uh, thought.” he looks down at his hands for a second and takes a deep breath before speaking again. “i really like you, eddie. and i want… i don’t know what i want but i know that i like you a lot. and i don’t want to be just friends who sleep together.”
“so,” eddie speaks slowly, still looking just a bit confused, “you don’t want to sleep together anymore.” he doesn’t really say it like a question, more like he’s not really all that surprised.
“no, i mean…” steve’s feeling just a little frustrated with himself. “i like that part. that part’s, like, really good. i just… i want more than that.” he runs his hand through his hair again. “i… i guess want to be your boyfriend.”
eddie laughs then and it makes steve’s chest feel hollow. eddie must see something on steve’s face because his laugh cuts off abruptly. “sorry, man. you’re serious?” eddie sounds almost disbelieving. steve can only nod, his throat tight. he definitely does not want to cry in front of eddie right now. “oh. well. um. i don’t really…” steve’s heart drops and the little bubble of hope that had been building since that first time eddie had stayed for breakfast abruptly bursts. “i’m sorry, dude, i genuinely thought we were on the same page. i’m not—that’s just—” eddie clears his throat. “that’s just not really something i want.”
steve has nothing to say to that. he supposes that eddie had been honest from the beginning and that he was the one who hadn’t been truthful so he can’t even really be mad.
“right,” steve responds, avoiding eddie’s eyes. “sure, okay.”
“i think i’m gonna go for now. but i’ll see you around, okay, stevie?” steve’s eyes snap up to eddie’s face and eddie’s eyes are wide and panicked. he looks like a cornered deer. a part of steve can’t help but feel sorry for putting that look on eddie’s face.
“yeah, okay. see you.” steve tries to smile at him, maybe to reassure him, but eddie doesn’t even look at him as he gathers his shoes and keys before leaving.
once eddie’s gone, steve sits there for a long moment, wondering where he’d gone wrong. maybe he should have waited until a little bit later, when they were upstairs tangled up together and he could distract eddie with kisses. maybe he should have waited until breakfast, when eddie’s soft and sweet, warm from sleep. maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.
steve turns off the tv and goes upstairs to bed alone for the first time in a while.
there’s a part two already half written so no worries, i only write happy endings (except that one time).
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steddie ficlet#steddie blurb
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It’s a cold Wednesday night in January that has Eddie turning the thermostat up and allowing the government supplied heat to fill the trailer. He glances up at the vents and gives them a quick middle finger, wondering if they bugged the place to observe him or make sure he isn’t spreading their secrets.
He doesn’t really care at this point if they’re watching though. They already held him at the hospital for long enough, poking and prodding as if he wasn’t even human. But he didn’t turn into a vampire or some shit because of those damn bats. No. The jagged, ugly scars littering his body served as a lovely reminder that he was ultimately human.
Eddie glances at a nearby mirror and cringes at his face, taking a look at the long scar running down his cheek, jaw, and neck. The Corroded Coffin guys all said it made him look metal, and he would throw in a, “Hell yeah,” before smoothly changing the subject to something that didn’t involve him for once.
He takes a finger and slowly trails it over the pale pink skin, wondering if there will ever be a day he won’t notice it.
“Eddie,” Steve calls out gently from the room down the hall.
Eddie jumps back and glances toward him, hand falling to his side and flexing uncomfortably as if he’s been caught doing something wrong.
“You okay?”
Eddie smiles and gestures toward the thermostat. “Damn thing wasn’t working for a minute there. You’d think with the amount of hush hush money they were able to pay all of us, they’d be able to give me and Wayne a better trailer.”
But Steve only crosses his arms and leans against the door frame, eyebrows raising gently. It’s not entirely accusatory, but it’s clear that he doesn’t believe a thing Eddie’s saying.
Although they’ve grown close while going through the same treatment and tests in Owen’s new secret facility, it still surprises Eddie how easily Steve can read people. More specifically, how easily he can read him of all people. “Just got lost in thought,” Eddie confesses while making his way back to his room as he sees Steve squint at the lights in the living area.
Steve steps out of the way as Eddie brushes by him and closes the door. He hope it’s enough honesty to end the conversation.
“What were you thinking about?” Steve asks, ignoring the signals Eddie is giving him.
Eddie sighs and runs a hand over his face and climbs back into his bed, quick to pull up the blanket around himself in an attempt to get some much needed warmth while simultaneously covering his scars from Steve. “Stuff.”
Steve rests his hands on his hips for a second and stares, mouth opening and closing for a moment before deciding against whatever he was going to say. Instead, he climbs into the bed with Eddie and joins him under the blanket, keeping enough distance so they’re not touching, but they can still feel each other’s body heat.
Eddie glances over at him, noticing the way the one lamp turned on in the room gives him a nice golden halo. He looks gorgeous and untouchable - exactly how Eddie used to think of him through high school and sometimes even now. The perfect golden boy. But despite the name Eddie gave to him years ago, he can’t ignore the flaws that Steve possesses, yet they somehow make him even more perfect to him. Or maybe just human.
Eddie shakes his head and glances away. He wishes Steve came over to smoke so Eddie could blame the drugs on the way his thoughts race when he’s next to him. Instead, he has to face up to his enormous crush on the perfect golden boy.
“Have any plans for Valentine’s Day?” Steve asks out of the blue.
Eddie snorts and glances at him, only to laugh harder when he sees the adorable look of confusion on his face.
Steve’s brows furrow but the edges of his lips quirk up. “What?”
Eddie pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to try to hide his wife smile. “Kind of random, don’t you think?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “I never said I was great at starting conversations. But I was just thinking about what holiday is next.”
“The worst one,” Eddie complains.
Steve turns toward him. “And why’s that?”
Eddie sighs and let’s himself go on a tangent. “It’s the one day of the year where people feel like they have to do all this shit for their partner, and the rest of the year, they think they can just get by doing the bare minimum. And people are left realizing what it would be like if their ‘other half’ actually put in an effort day to day. And then for all the single people, it’s a day where love is shoved in their face, and they have to feel bad and sometimes disgusted by all the public displays of affection going on around them and… I just hate it all. The stupid chocolates in the red heart boxes and the teddy bears and big heart shaped balloons and roses…”
“I didn’t realize you had such strong opinions about Valentine’s Day,” Steve says with a laugh.
“Well, now you do.”
They both sit in the silence for a few moments, Eddie thinking about all the other things he didn’t even touch on about Valentine’s Day that he hates, while Steve is probably taking in everything he just said.
Steve bumps his shoulder and asks, “So, I’m assuming that means you have no plans.”
Eddie laughs. “That’s what you got out of that?”
Steve shrugs and looks away with a smile.
Eddie glances at his clock and notices it’s technically Thursday now, and in these early hours, Steve will usually either silently fall asleep or he’ll lay awake in the silence until one of his thoughts has to make itself known.
Either way, Eddie knows he’ll be up for a few more hours, but he’s never regret the sleep he’s lost since they’ve made this silent arrangement.
The bed shifts, and Eddie follows Steve’s lead, laying down fully and staring at the ceiling, trying his best not to reach out for the hand laying beside his. He wonders if he should add something to the ceiling like some type of mural with stars and whatnot.
He tilts his head to the side, envisioning how it would look in the lamplight since he and Steve refuse to sleep in the dark. Or maybe it’s just Steve and Eddie’s picked up on the habit of leaving the lamp on.
“Do you think you’ll make plans?” Steve asks quietly.
Eddie turns to look at him, at a lost for a moment before realizing he’s still on the Valentine’s Day subject. He smiles sadly, “No.” Steve glances over at him and holds his gaze, expecting more. Eddie sighs and gestures at himself. “I mean, I’m not exactly what people want to bring home to their parents at the moment plus with the,” he gestures to his face and drops his hand quickly, averting his gaze back to the ceiling.
He hopes Steve will let it go and not connect the dots back to earlier.
A silence settles between them, but Steve’s gaze burns into the side of Eddie’s face. Then, he finally asks, “Is that what distracted you earlier?” When Eddie doesn’t answer he continues, “I saw you looking in the mirror, and I know you usually go out of your way to avoid them.”
Eddie wants to question how Steve noticed, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up about something that was just passively rather than intentionally observed. “Yeah,” Eddie states simply.
The bed shifts as Steve turns on his side to fully face him. “And you really think you can’t get a date because of them?”
Eddie sighs and rubs both of his hands over his face. “Steve, who is ever going to love me like this?” He turns and continues, “Privately, yes, someone could maybe get past the scars. But in public? You really think someone is going to be proud to say, ‘Here’s my boyfriend,’ and show off me?”
“Yes,” Steve says instantly as if he has no doubt in the world.
Eddie turns away, trying not to get choked up about it. Because how can he explain to him that while it’s nice that Steve has that confidence in him, Eddie wants Steve to be the one to be proud of him. To want him like that.
“Do you think my scars make me unlovable?” Steve asks.
“No! Jesus, Steve,” Eddie rushes to say and turns to him. He reached out and lays a hand over his side, feeling the way the skin puckers under the thin t-shirt. “These are metal as hell. Hot even. They make you more lovable if anything.”
Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and slowly pulls it off his side to hold it up, the scar on it being presented out to Eddie. “And this doesn’t make you more lovable?”
“Steve…” Eddie protests quietly as Steve pulls his hand close to stare at it.
“The scars you got protecting us. You think those make you less lovable?” Steve asks, pulling his hand close enough that his lips ghost over the skin.
Eddie lets out a breath that sounds like Steve as Steve presses a soft kiss into the tough skin. He stares at Eddie with a worried look in his eyes as he whispers, “Too much?”
Eddie shakes his head, too stunned to get the words out.
Steve intertwines their hands and pulls Eddie’s arm toward him. “These scars,” he says kissing the next one on his forearm, “Are beautiful on you.” He moves on to the scar on his elbow stretching to his bicep, lips trailing against the sensitive unmarked skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. “How could anyone hate these?” He asks leaving three soft, lingering kisses before shifting on the bed to hover above Eddie, still holding his hand but now against his stomach so he can press a kiss against his shoulder. “These scars show everyone what you were willing to sacrifice for us.”
As Steve moves to the scar on his neck, Eddie’s head drops back, giving him more access as he groans out, “Steve.”
“These scars,” Steve says, kissing up his neck over and past the scars, “Are exactly,” he murmurs as he kisses past his jaw and peppers kisses up his cheek, “Why I love you,” Steve finishes by pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth near where the scar that Eddie traced earlier ends.
Eddie glances up at Steve as he hovers over him, trying to make sense of everything he’s saying until it finally clicks. “You love me?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods and squeezes his hand before letting it go so he can lightly caress his cheek. “I have since you decided to be a hero and sacrifice yourself. Which was exactly what I told you not to do by the way.”
“I’ve never been great at following rules,” Eddie breathes out and reaches a hand up to run through Steve hair. “Steve?”
“Mhm?”
“I love you, too,” Eddie confesses.
Steve smiles and asks, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says. He pauses before adding, “You know, one time when I was little, I captured a squirrel and it may have attacked me and left a scar on my lip.”
Steve laughs. “Is that so?”
Eddie smiles and nods.
Steve’s eyes dart down to Eddie’s lips and he moves his thumb to swipe over his top lip. “You know, I think I see it.”
Eddie debates telling him that it was actually his bottom lip, but instead he just breathes out, “Steve.”
“Yeah?” Steve asks with a teasing smile.
“Steve.”
Steve keeps smiling as he hums, “Hmm?” When Eddie huffs, Steve fakes surprise with a gasp, “Oh. You want me to find the picture for you!”
Eddie groans, “Steve!”
“Uh huh?”
Eddie huffs and cups his face. “You are infuriating.”
“Is that s-”
Eddie interrupts him by taking matters into his own hands and leaning up to kiss him. He feels Steve smile against his lip before finally kissing him back.
Steve pulls away and breathlessly asks, “So, do you think you’ll have plans for Valentine’s Day now?”
Eddie’s head thumps back on the pillow. “Oh my god.” Steve laughs. “Oh my god!” Eddie says and shoves Steve off of him only to roll over so he hovers above him. “You were trying to ask me out this whole time?”
“No, I just wanted to know your opinion of Valentine’s Day.”
Eddie gives him a light punch to the arm and smiles wide as he stares down at Steve, lying beneath him in the golden lamp light. His perfect golden boy.
“I still hate it by the way. Even if I have plans now,” Eddie comments seriously.
“Don’t worry, I’ll put in the effort year round for you and make sure to keep you away from the public that day,” Steve says running a hand through Eddie’s curls before tracing it down the scar on his cheek in a way he thought no one would be able to do - lovingly.
Eddie leans down and gives Steve a quick peck. “I’ve also got some scars on my hips I might want you to check out.”
Steve laughs loudly and pulls him into a kiss that truly makes Eddie breathless, all while tracing his hand over the scar on his cheek. And for the first time, Eddie learns to love the scars adorning his body.
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these pieces have a companion fic!! go read it its AMAZING
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Whatever you want it to be - ch 4
My @subeddieweek fic
Read it on AO3
Eddie's universe collapses. Doesn’t so much as put up a fight, just cracks wide open along the red-hot fissures that have been forming all day, ever since the locker room. Crumbles into fine ashes, just to reshape itself into a new world where only one single thing matters.
Steve.
Taglist: @somegirlsomewhere @mugloversonly @siobhanhawthorne @thefreakandthehair @steddieas-shegoes
@starryeyedjanai @pearynice @eyesofshinigami @cheddartreets @steddieonbigboy
@little-birch-boy @sidekick-hero
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie brainrot#steddie fanfic#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#omegaverse#a/b/o#omega eddie munson#alpha steve harrington#sub eddie week#whatever you want it to be
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for @penny00dreadful
Ch 1 <-
Chapter 2: Yellow Brick Road
WC: 4946 | Ch 2/4 | AO3 <-
They’d been walking for quite a while, nothing to see save for the fields of corn spread out on one side of them, wheat on the other, when they came upon a fork in the road.
Steve stood in the middle of the intersection, peering as far as he could down one path, and then the other, but there was just no way of knowing where each of the winding roads led. He threw his hands up in frustration before settling them on his hips. “Great, just great. Now what do we do?”
“Convenient how no one thought to mention the road split off.” Eddie grumbled.
“Right or left?”
“Flip a coin?”
Steve shrugged, it was as good a way to decide as anything else. “Sure, why not.”
Eddie stared at him expectantly.
“What?” Steve asked.
“Well, I don’t have any money on me.”
“Then why did you suggest flipping a coin?!”
Eddie bristled, as if Steve were the one being ridiculous. “Because you’ve always got spare change on you!”
“It’s those damn kids, always begging me for quarters for the arcade.”
“Did you ever think if you stopped carrying coins, the little shits would stop hitting you up for them?”
Steve frowned. “That’s… hmpf.” Because no, he hadn’t, actually. He started to rummage through his front pockets—a feat, frankly, given how tight his pants were, and wondered how big a fit Dustin would pitch if he were to actually stop handing out free money like he was a goddamn ATM machine.
“Hey!” A voice called out. “Dingus one and Dingus two!”
Steve startled—they hadn’t seen another soul for miles.
He looked all around for the source of the sound and finally spotted something—a lone figure mounted to a pole just inside the split-rail fence, nestled between a few stalks of corn. One of its arms was propped up, pointing, the other resting at its side. He grabbed Eddie’s hand and rushed towards it, swinging his legs easily up and over the wood planks, glimmering heels and all, before helping the other boy do the same.
As they got closer he could see that it was a girl made of straw and burlap—a scarecrow, his brain supplied offhandedly, though her face looked remarkably human and alive.
She winked, and smiled down at them.
Steve gasped, his eyes raking over the dusting of freckles painted over the girl’s cheeks and nose. “No—No way.” He shook his head, taking another step closer. Was every person in this place a version of someone from home?
“Robin?”
The Scarecrow frowned. “Never heard of her.”
Steve deflated. “Right.”
“Is that the way we’re supposed to go? The way you’re pointing?” Eddie asked, getting right to business as if he were unfazed at this newest encounter. Which was fair. It was pretty tame compared to the horrors of the last alternate dimension they’d been trapped in.
“That way’s okay.” She said with a small shrug, before dropping her left arm and raising her right—rotating it like a windmill in the process. “But that way’s pretty good too.”
“Very helpful.” Steve deadpanned.
“Of course,” she went on, ignoring him as she crossed one arm over the other—pointing in opposite directions at once. “People do go both ways.”
Eddie snickered, immediately clapping a hand over his own mouth to stifle his laughter.
Steve felt a rush of heat as he broke out in a full body flush, cheeks flaming. Surely The Scarecrow hadn’t meant—
The thing was, Robin—the real one—had been talking to him a little bit recently about the possibility of going both ways, as it were. He’d been starting to suspect, for no reason in particular, that he might not be as entirely straight as he’d previously thought.
Okay, fine.
There was a reason, and the culprit, cause, and source of his suspicion was standing right next to him, looking at him with those big brown eyes, sparkling with the last remnants of laughter, and smiling in that very particular way that showed his dimples to full effect.
It made Steve feel wild, like a swarm of butterflies had taken flight in his stomach.
He wondered if Eddie knew, if he should tell him, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.
It wasn’t the possibility of being bisexual that frightened him. More than a possibility, he supposed—clearly that ship had sailed—what with the way he practically salivated anytime Eddie raised his arms to stretch or reach for something up high, exposing that delicious little strip of tummy and—
Yeah… definitely not straight.
And he knew the other boy was gay, Eddie and Robin had both come out to the rest of the group a few months ago, so, the possibility was there, but just because Eddie liked guys didn’t mean he liked Steve.
All of that to say, his fear lay more in the worry of ruining their friendship if Eddie didn’t feel the same way about him.
“We’re looking for the Emerald City, do you know it?” Eddie was asking The Scarecrow when Steve tuned back into the conversation.
“I can’t say that I do, no, but that’s not much of a surprise. I haven't got a brain, you see.”
“How can you talk without a brain?” Steve asked.
“Seriously?” She quirked a brow. “Have you heard what comes out of most people's mouths? It’s not that hard.”
Well, she had him there.
“The thing is, my words come out faster than my thoughts sometimes, and I just wind up rambling on-and-on until I stop making any sense at all! No one understands me, and I just know if I had a brain it would solve all my problems. “She sighed wistfully, staring off into the middle distance for a moment before seeming to remember that they were there, and snapped back to attention. “What’s in the Emerald City anyhow?”
“A wizard, hopefully.” Eddie said.
“We’re going to see if he can help us get back home to Hawkins.” Steve added.
“Hawkins, huh? That’s a funny name.” The Scarecrow mused. “Well, if he’s capable of interdimensional travel, surely he could handle one measly brain. I’ll even take a second hand one, I'm not picky! Can I come with you?”
Steve resisted the urge to point out that her figuring out all on her own that multiple dimensions even existed was proof enough that she did, in fact, have a brain. He didn’t mind the idea of her tagging along, even if she wasn’t Robin.
“It’s fine with me,” he said, looking to Eddie, who nodded his agreement. “We should warn you though, there's a witch after us.”
“I ain’t afraid of nothing except rabies and talking to girls, which is completely normal.” The Scarecrow paused, thinking it over. “And maybe a lighted match.”
With a little finagling they managed to get her down with minimal damage. Steve held her around the waist while Eddie loosened the nail in the back of the pole, and it would have been fine, but in the heels his center of gravity was a little off, not to mention the uneven ground, so when she was set loose and suddenly he was holding all her weight, it put him off balance, sending them both sprawling to the ground.
She lost a little hay in the fall but quickly shoved it back in, rearranging it this way and that in the front of her top. Steve looked quickly away—it was like watching his sister adjust herself in her bra or something.
“What? You don’t like boobies?” The Scarecrow asked, finally done fluffing herself up.
“Not yours!”
“Well that’s just rude,” she huffed, pushing herself to her feet. She vaulted the fence, and started slowly making her way down one side of the yellow brick road.
Steve glanced up to find Eddie already above him with a hand out ready to help, and he let the other boy tug him to his feet, his skin burning where their palms touched. But Eddie accidentally pulled just a bit too hard and they wound up chest-to-chest, while Steve struggled to find his footing.
“Thanks,” Steve said softly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze flicked down to Eddie’s mouth, heart beating like a jackhammer.
“Anytime, Stevie,” Eddie whispered back, sounding just as breathless as Steve felt.
They were so close, it would take nothing at all to just lean in and—
“You dweebs comin’ or what?” The Scarecrow shouted from a few yards away.
They broke apart in surprise, sharing an awkward laugh, and hurried to catch up with their strange new friend.
“It’s Steve and Eddie, actually.”
“I’m starving.” Eddie griped for the dozenth time in the last half hour alone.
It wasn’t like Steve couldn’t sympathize, he was hungry too, but Oz didn’t exactly have a convenience store on every corner, and whining about it incessantly wasn’t helping anyone.
Even if he did find Eddie’s whining to be sort-of… cute.
God, he was in so deep.
Thankfully, as they walked, the scenery began to change and the fields that had been flanking them on either side for so long gave way to a grove of trees, and not just any trees–
“Oh!” Steve tugged on the other boy’s shirt and pointed excitedly ahead. “Eddie, look, there's a bunch of apple trees.”
Eddie curled his upper lip in disgust.
“Were you, or were you not, just complaining about our lack of food?”
“Yeah, but I was hoping for a cheeseburger or something, not… fruit.”
“Don’t be a baby,” Steve rolled his eyes as he stepped off the path, heading towards the nearest tree, and reached up to pick one of the many shiny, red, and delicious looking apples.
Before he could even register what was happening, the tree moved, a cluster of its branches wrapping around his wrist like a hand, squeezing tight.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A deep voice croaked.
A voice that seemed to be coming from The Tree.
Had Steve not faced down a demogorgon, demodogs—plural—the Mind Flayer, an entire swarm of demobats, and fucking Vecna, before, he probably would have been terrified at the prospect of a talking goddamn tree, but when he got over the initial shock he was mostly just annoyed that he couldn’t get himself free.
He wrenched and pulled but it was no use, until Eddie appeared at his side, taking hold of The Tree’s other arm—if you could call it an arm.
“Hey man, let go!” Eddie yelled at it. “You didn’t have to hurt him, we were just hungry!”
“How would you like to have someone come along and pick something off of you?!” The Tree barked.
Eddie snarled, bending back several of its smallest branches until the thing squealed in pain. It released Steve abruptly and he stumbled sideways, right into Eddie’s arms, and together they backed up to where The Scarecrow stood.
“It’s alright, Steve. You don’t want any of those apples anyway.” She said, looking down her nose at the offending plant. Er, creature?
Whatever.
“Are you hinting my apples aren't what they ought to be?!” The Tree grunted.
“That depends, are they supposed to have little green worms?”
“Get out of here or I’ll–”
“You’ll what? Grow at me?” She taunted.
The Tree growled, struggling in place and waving its branches at her.
The Scarecrow stuck her tongue out, blowing a raspberry at it, and pulled the boys away by their collars.
They were only a short distance away when she stopped on a dime, whirling back around to face the small orchard. “Get bent by a stiff breeze you weeping willow!”
“What are you doing?!” Steve hissed.
“Getting you some apples, duh,” She shot back. “Come on, catch!”
Steve turned, and sure enough The Tree, along with several of its brethren, were now hurling perfectly ripe apples straight at them. He caught as many as he could, cradling them in the front of his shirt until he couldn’t hold anymore, while The Scarecrow hid behind him.
Eddie, for his part, tried his best, but sports had never been his thing, and it showed. He wound up on hands and knees chasing after a few of the fruits that had rolled away in the soft grass.
The other boy was only out of sight for a moment, but Steve’s heart still dropped when he called out from behind a tall shrub.
Steve rounded the overgrowth in an instant, bracing for whatever new threat had come to find them. He was prepared for a lot of things, a pack of rabid bunnies perhaps, or a sentient rose bush, what he wasn’t prepared to see was a girl made out of tin, and not just any girl—Nancy.
“Nance?”
“I… don’t think that's her name.” The Scarecrow said, circling the other girl’s still form. “I’ve heard of these things. She’s a Tin Woodswoman!”
Steve stared. The girl was frozen like a statue with one arm held aloft wielding an ax, and though she couldn't blink or move her head, her pleading eyes were looking right at him, following him wherever he went.
Suddenly, a sound much like a squeaky wheel came from between her unmoving lips.
“Was that… did you try to say something?” Steve asked.
“Ooooooool ca,” The Tin Woman tried again. “oooooooooil–ca”
Steve snapped his fingers. “Oil can! She said oil can!” It didn’t take long to find the small container with its built-in dispenser stashed behind a nearby tree trunk. “Where should we oil her first?”
“You should probably get her consent before you start in on all that.” Eddie muttered.
“Eddie,” Steve glowered. “Be serious.”
“Not that I know much about these things, but maybe start with her mouth so she can talk?” The Scarecrow suggested.
“Right.” Steve aimed the end of the spout, dispensing a small amount of the liquid to the corners of her mouth.
Within seconds the oil went to work and her lips loosened. “Oh thank goodness I can talk again. Can you oil my arms next, my elbows?” The Tin Woman said.
Steve worked quickly, lubricating all of her joints, but still her one arm was stuck up in the air. Seeing her struggle, Eddie grabbed it and yanked. The limb finally fell, axe and all, the sound of it like an old car door being forced open.
Eddie grimaced. “Oh shit! Sorry, did that hurt?”
“No, it feels so much better, I’ve been holding that ax up for ages.” The Tin Woman assured him, taking a few tentative steps. She only creaked a little.
“What happened to you?” Eddie asked.
“Misread the forecast. About a year ago I came out to cut a tree down when it started to rain. I rusted solid—mid-chop!”
Curious, Steve continued to examine her, wondering what enabled her to walk and talk. Not that it was any weirder than The Scarecrow, really. He knocked on her middle, the sound reverberating like a drum.
“Wow! What an echo! How’d you pull that off?” The Scarecrow asked.
“It always sounds like that.” The Tin Woman shrugged. “I guess the tinsmith forgot to give me a heart.”
The Scarecrow gasped, “no heart?!”
“No heart,” The Tin Woman sighed, hanging her head. “It’s not that I mind not having one exactly, they are easily breakable from what I understand. It's just that, well, it makes me come off kinda cold, y'know?”
Now, this wasn’t Nancy, Steve knew that, but damned if he hadn’t had the same thought about her once or twice after she’d so thoroughly crushed him, calling him and his love bullshit that night in the bathroom at Tina’s Halloween party—and the betrayal that had come after.
Heartless.
He knew it wasn’t strictly true. Those were the thoughts of a boy who’d had his heart stomped on by the first girl he’d ever given it to. Nancy had the capacity to love, and fiercely. He’d seen it in the way she protected the people she cared about, willing to do anything to keep them safe—including him. She just didn’t love him in the romantic way. It had taken him a long time to accept that, to be okay with it and get over her, but as he looked into Eddie’s eyes over the top of The Tin Woman’s pointed funnel hat, he knew it’d all been for the best.
Nancy had a heart, she just didn’t always know how to show it, and he was willing to bet this Tin Woman had one too.
“You should come with us!” The Scarecrow said.
The Tin Woman tilted her head. “Where are you going?”
“We’re going to see a wizard! Eddie—that’s the long haired one.” The scarecrow leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “And Steve here are trying to get home. I'm in the market for some brains, and I’m sure the wizard could manage a heart for you too!”
“Do you really believe he’ll get you home?” The Tin Woman asked, turning to Steve.
“I hope so, we’ve come such a long way already.” He said.
A shrill cackling laughter filled the air, and in a plume of red smoke The Wicked Witch appeared out of nowhere, atop the roof of a nearby log cabin.
“Long? You call that long? Why, you’ve only just begun!” She sneered down at them, turning her attention on the two newest members of their little party. “And you two lovely ladies, helping them along are you?”
“Yeah, what of it?!” The Scarecrow taunted.
“Stay away from them, or I'll stuff a mattress with you!”
“And you—” The Witch paused, pointing the tip of her broom down at the Tin Woman. “I'll use you for a beehive.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” The Tin Woman growled.
“Oh, the crumpled up wad of aluminum foil wants to play with fire, huh? Let’s see how your highly flammable friend fares against this—” The Wicked Witch raised her hand palm up, conjuring up a fist full of flame that she hurled at their feet.
The Scarecrow shrieked and threw herself to the side, even Steve and Eddie shrank back from the heat of it, but The Tin Woman, who had nothing to fear from a little unfriendly fire, quickly put it out, using her hat to smother the blaze. By the time it was done, The Wicked Witch was gone.
“You weren’t kidding about a witch being after you!” The Scarecrow said.
“About that,” Steve began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think it would be best if Eddie and I traveled the rest of the way alone. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to either of you because of us.”
The Scarecrow narrowed her eyes. “Not a chance. I'll see you safely to the Wizard, whether I get a brain or not.”
“Me too!” The Tin Woman agreed.
-
Not long after their confrontation with The Wicked Witch, they continued on their journey down the yellow brick road, where their surroundings changed yet again. The scattered trees thickened into dense woods, dark where the canopy blocked out most of the sun, and the air was filled with the sinister sounds of unfamiliar wildlife.
“I know I said I wasn’t afraid, but I don't like this forest. It’s dark and creepy.” The Scarecrow said.
Steve shrugged, bumping his shoulder against Eddie’s. “We've seen worse. Anything is better than a sky full of demobats, right?”
“What’s a demobat?” The Scarecrow asked.
“It’s like a regular bat,” Steve began. “Except… not at all? They’re bigger than you might think, with gray leathery flesh, and wings, and these long tails they like to choke you with. Their mouths are small but don’t let that fool you, they’re full of razor sharp teeth.”
Eddie glanced at him sideways, a crooked grin playing on his mouth and a light blush spreading across his face. “I dunno, Harrington. I’d pay good money to see you take a bite out of one of those little fuckers again.”
Steve grinned back, cheeks burning under Eddie’s attention. “That so, Munson?”
The Tin Woman gaped at them. “What is wrong with you two?”
If possible, Steve’s face grew even hotter, but as luck would have it a series of bellowing roars sounded off in the distance, and their flirtation, if it was indeed that, was quickly forgotten.
“What was that?” The Scarecrow whisper-shouted.
“Lions?” Eddie guessed.
Deep growls filled the forest next.
The Tin Woman hung onto the Scarecrow’s arm. “And tigers.”
Steve strained to listen for what else might be out there, and heard a long huff and a distinct gnashing of teeth. “And bears.”
“That doesn’t seem right, all in the same woods?” Eddie murmured skeptically. “Lions, and tigers, and bears?”
“Oh shit.” Steve shouted as something came barreling out of the trees and onto the path, coming straight for them.
They all reared back, cowering away from the oncoming threat and The Tin Woman stumbled in the process, dropping her axe to the brick road with a clang.
Steve scrambled to pick up the fallen weapon, twirling it out of habit as he took up a spot in front of his people, stepping between them and the overgrown stuffed toy who for whatever reason seemed to mean them harm. In hindsight he should have known better than to expect Eddie to stay back with the others and let him handle it, for as much as the guy liked to call himself a runner and a coward, not once had he backed down from a fight when the safety of his friends was in question.
Now being a prime example.
Armed with nothing more than Steve’s tied-together discarded sneakers, which he was swinging around wildly like every teen boy who saw The Karate Kid in theaters and decided to try their hand at nunchucks, Eddie joined Steve at his side, facing their foe head on.
“Put ‘em up, put ‘em up!” The Lion sneered.
Steve was pretty sure he’d had footie pajamas that looked like this guy once.
Mid swing, the laces on Steve’s sneakers came loose from their knot, and one of the shoes went flying out of Eddie’s hands, beaming the lion right in the forehead with a loud smack.
The beast’s paws flew to his head, cradling it as he began to cry hysterically. “What’d you do that for, I didn’t bite him!”
Eddie furrowed his brow, looking from the pathetic sobbing creature to Steve and back again. “Were you… going to bite him?”
“...No?”
Steve scoffed.
The lion moved his giant mitts from his face, tilting it up into the light. “I-Is my nose bleeding?”
“It would serve you right if it was!” The Scarecrow scolded.
Now that Steve had a better look at the guy, he realized he’d seen The Lion’s eyes somewhere before. He peered closer, squinting into the oddly humanoid looking face when it clicked.
He looked back at Eddie and mouthed, ‘Jonathan.’
Eddie snorted.
“Hey, can’t you see he’s just scared?” The Tin Woman said, pushing them both gently aside. She gazed down at The Lion with a telling softness in her eyes, and took up the end of his tail, drying his tears with it. “There now, that’s better.”
He blinked up at her in awe. “I-I’m sorry.”
She patted his hand and smiled. “Now, do you want to tell us what that was all about?”
“Oh, I'm just a stupid coward is all.”
“I don’t know about that,” Steve cut in. “I mean, you did come after the four of us all by yourself.”
“Naw, that’s not being brave. I saw you coming and I got scared, like I always do, and decided to lash out first before you could do the same to me. If I was really brave I'd have just come out and said hello.”
“Well, no harm done I guess, but we should really get going.” Steve said.
“But we can’t just leave him here all alone.” The Tin Woman insisted. “What if we brought him along? Maybe The Wizard can help him too. Even if not, the world is much less terrifying when you’re not alone.”
Steve couldn’t help but look Eddie’s way at that, feeling the truth of her words in his soul. They’d been through so much together since their fraught beginnings at the boathouse—made countless trips into the Upside Down before it’d been destroyed, faced Vecna and his hoard of monsters, twice, and it’d all been that much easier to bear because they’d been together.
Eddie nodded as if he’d heard all of Steve’s innermost thoughts though he hadn’t said a thing out loud, and he knew they were on the same page.
“The more the merrier, I guess.”
-
Before long they reached the edge of the forest, which opened up into a sprawling meadow full of bright flowers in shades of red, pink, purple, and orange, growing right over the yellow brick road. That sight alone was enough to take Steve’s breath away, but it wasn't the only thing that caught his attention. Just on the other side of the vast ocean of blossoms was a cluster of tall brilliantly green buildings, a city, shining just like the emerald gemstones it was named for.
“There’s The Emerald City!” Steve shouted, pointing towards the horizon excitedly. “Oh, look! Eddie, we’re almost there!”
But Eddie didn’t respond, he was squatting down at the edge of the growth, eyeing the colorful blooms with suspicion.
“What is it?” Steve asked.
Eddie turned concerned eyes up at him. “Something doesn’t feel right about this, like maybe it’s some sort of trap?”
“How can flowers be a trap?”
“Well, for one thing they’re not just any flowers, they’re poppies.”
Steve crinkled his brow. “Okay…”
“Poppies? Y’know, the thing they use to make opium?”
“Oh!”
“What’s opium?” The Scarecrow asked.
“I don't think they have drugs here.” Steve said.
Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, and shrugged. “That’s fair, no need to trip balls when you already have talking trees.”
“So what do you want to do?” Steve asked.
“I don’t like it, but it doesn’t look like we have much choice. The only way to the Emerald City is through it, so.” Eddie shook his head, pushing himself back to his feet, and reached for Steve's hand. “I guess we’ll go as quickly as we can, and hope for the best.”
The unlikely quintet formed a chain of linked hands and ran together as a unit through the vibrant meadow. At first Steve thought Eddie had been wrong, that it was just an innocent field of wildflowers, but by the time they’d reached the top of the first small hill he was gasping for air, and his legs felt like they were pushing through molasses, unusual for someone who exercised regularly, jogging at least four times a week.
“Wait, wait.” Steve panted, leaning heavily into Eddie as he tried to regain his breath.
“Steve?” Eddie looked him up and down, worrying his bottom lip.
“I can’t run anymore, I–I’m,” Steve cut himself off with a yawn. “I’m so sleepy.” He wobbled in place, knees going weak. The other boy caught him around the middle, lowering him gently to the ground.
“What’s wrong with him?” The Scarecrow asked.
“I don’t know.” Eddie said, studying his face as he hovered over him, eyes wild with panic.
“I have to rest for just a minute.” Steve babbled, knowing it sounded ridiculous. They were so close to their destination, he could practically see the individual windows on the buildings of the Emerald City, and suddenly he wanted to take a nap? Something wasn’t right, but he couldn't seem to fight it.
The Lion yawned loudly. “Now that you mention it, catching a few winks doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” He swayed on his feet, kept upright only by The Tin Woman’s grip on him.
The next thing Steve knew, Eddie was gently prying his eyelids open, though he didn’t remember closing them. “Fuck, I knew something was off about these flowers. It’s that damn Wicked Witch, it has to be!”
Not that Steve was paying much attention to what he said, because god was Eddie pretty like this—his big brown eyes even larger and more beautiful up close, so dreamy, with his dark curls hanging down around him like a curtain.
Eddie's lips parted in surprise as his hands still cradled Steve’s face. “What did you just say?”
Oh shit, in his tired stupor had he actually said some of that out loud?
“Eddie, I–” Steve managed to force out, but Eddie swayed above him, eyes rolling back in his head for a moment before he tipped sideways, falling gracelessly to the ground beside him.
It was becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open, and Steve knew it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to the magical sleep that was pulling him under. He turned his head and found Eddie looking at him too, doing the same long blinks, both of them fighting a losing battle.
With his last bit of strength Steve reached out, and Eddie reached too, clasping their hands between their bodies, fingers entwining with practiced ease like they were made to fit together.
As Steve’s eyes slipped shut there was another thunk nearby, the distinct sound of a body hitting the ground, something he had unfortunately heard enough times to know, and could only assume The Lion must have been felled by the same thing that’d gotten them.
The last thing he heard as his consciousness faded away, were the terrified shouts of The Scarecrow and The Tin Woman calling out for help.
Thanks again to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help with this!
Chapter 3 (coming 4/27)
Chapter 4 (coming 4/28)
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter(s)!
#steddie fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie wizard of oz#adventures in following the yellow brick road with your crush#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington/eddie munson#steddie fic#stobin#stobin in every universe
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The crown rustles lightly as it settles over his brow, its weight ticklish and barely there. He feels the touch of Eddie’s fingers as he arranges it to sit just perfectly, brushes some locks of hair out of Steve’s face and tucks them under the leaves and flowers. When those hands finally come to rest on his hips again, his lids flutter open, and all he can see is those gorgeous brown eyes looking up at him, shining with love and adoration and desire.
Eddie casts down his gaze and bows his head in a gesture of supplication.
“My liege,” he murmurs.
- Hic sunt dracones by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation
💛💛
This art is based off of the painting Daphnis and Chloe by Elizabeth Jane Gardner. 💛
#Endless love for one of my favorite steddie fics#smooching Hype on the forehead 💛#my art#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie fanart#steddie fanfiction#steddie fanfic#steddie art
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ao3
What if Steve’s the one painfully pining thinking Eddie is straight.
Eddie unaware but happy he and Steve became friends after everything.
Eddie oblivious to how Steve’s cheeks turn pink when he gives Steve the blinding dimple laden smile.
Eddie blissfully living his life, eating Steve’s snacks at movie nights, and riding along in the car when the kids get dropped off at the arcade.
And months go by. Long torturous months where Steve (or really Robin) is sure he’s developing an ulcer because he always has a stomach ache.
Until Steve finally decides he can’t do this to himself any longer. He thought at least having Eddie in his life was better than not. But his heart hurts constantly and if he doesn’t cut Eddie out of his life, he knows it’ll never heal.
So he stops accepting the invitations to hang out. Comes up with excuse after excuse until Eddie stops asking.
He stops engaging in the conversations when Dustin or Lucas talk about that week’s campaign or this amazing thing Eddie did.
And he’s… fine.
Sure maybe when he’s trying to fall asleep some (most) nights he wonders if Eddie ever went to that new music store. Or if he ever found out if his weird neighbor was poisoning the stray cats or not.
He acts like the fact Eddie seems to be unfazed about the whole thing, isn’t the most painful thing ever. That Steve vanishing from Eddie’s inner circle didn’t even generate an annoying little blip for him to question it.
It’s fine.
He’s fine.
Until one seemingly innocuous afternoon, when Steve is at the Hallmark store picking up a birthday gift for his mom. He’s holding something with a generic motivational quote in his hands when a bang hits the store window to Steve’s left.
He jumps at the sound and turns immediately, his body poised in a defensive stance, when his eyes register what he’s seeing.
Eddie Munson with both palms smashed against the window gawking at Steve. The man’s eyes are wide and his mouth is open and he looks like he’s seen a ghost.
Steve catches his breath when he realizes he’s not in any danger, and he gives Eddie one of those mouth pressed smiles and a small nod. It’s been so long since they’ve seen each other Steve has to pretend it’s not causing him physical pain.
Then Eddie starts side stepping toward the entrance. He’s keeping his body facing Steve through the glass like he’s afraid if he looks away Steve will evaporate.
Steve knew he wouldn’t get away with never seeing Eddie again, but he had been hoping. He’s trying to ignore the desire to turn heel and find a back exit, and thinks maybe Eddie will just wanna say hi. Maybe Steve will only have to endure five minutes of interaction and they’ll go their own merry way.
“Steve!” Eddie says a little too loudly.
“Hey, man.” Steve smiles and hopes it looks friendly.
“Where have you been?” Eddie moves to stand directly in front of Steve, basically blocking him against the display table he’d been in front of.
“What do you mean?” Steve swallows a lump as he watches Eddie’s face twist into an expression of bewilderment.
“You kinda fell off the face of the earth, man. I was next door at Radio Shack and was headed to my van and thought I saw a figment of my imagination through the glass.” Eddie’s eyes suddenly dart around as of their surroundings just dawned on him. “Um…I kinda need…I’ve been thinking…can we, uh, talk? Somewhere more private?”
Steve’s mind starts flipping through possibilities of why Eddie can’t just say what he wants to say. It sounds ominous and he guesses they should get this over with. Maybe after this he’ll never have to worry about seeing Eddie ever again.
“We could go to my van? If-if you were ok with that?” Eddie quickly tacks on the last sentence.
“Sure?” Steve shrugs, sets the unimportant birthday gift on the table, and follows a step or two behind Eddie.
Eddie keeps glancing over his shoulder like he assumes Steve will dart out from behind him and book it across the parking lot. It’s making Steve nervous.
Eddie moves to the back of his van and unlocks the door, pulling it open and motioning to Steve to sit down. Steve cautiously slides his butt back onto the van, letting his legs dangle over the bumper, in case he needs to make a quick exit.
When Eddie sits down there’s an awkward amount of space between them. Steve ignores how the distance physically shows how much has changed between them.
“I…uh,” Eddie sighs then lolls his head back staring upward.
Steve can tell he’s trying to collect himself before continuing.
“Sorry, man.” Eddie chuckles nervously giving Steve a weak smile. “I wasn’t planning on doing this today so just trying to organize my thoughts.”
Steve is about three seconds away from vomiting all over the nearby asphalt. This is awful.
“I just…” Eddie turns his head to look at Steve. He looks pained, like whatever he’s about to say may crush Steve.
It probably will.
“I wanted to apologize, for…whatever it is I did. I know I’m obnoxious sometimes.” He rolls his eyes “Jeff tells me to chill out constantly.”
Steve pinches his eyebrows in confusion.
“I miss hanging out and seeing you, but I get it. You don’t give a shit about D&D or any of the other stupid things I talk about. I probably forced it and you are just too good of a dude to say anything. But that’s ok… I’ve done a lot of thinking…lately. You helped, sorta, expose something…about myself that I didn’t know.” He sighs before continuing. “I mean, I guess in theory I knew, but I just thought everyone felt like that.”
Steve feels like he’s traversing a perilous hike without a map right now, totally and completely lost.
Eddie clears his throat and fiddles with his skull ring. “I miss you. I mean, hanging out with you.”
Steve stares, unsure what to say. He probably looks like he’s short circuiting right now, because he doesn’t understand.
It’s been weeks, months even, and he never reached out. He never called or stopped by Steve’s place but he’s talking like it’s been killing him this whole time.
“I-I don’t understand.”
“What do you mean?” Eddie cocks his head.
“You missed me?”
“Yeah, of course.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Why wouldn’t I? We used to hang out all the time, Steve. I saw you more than I saw Wayne, most days.”
“Why didn’t you ever call me then?”
“Did you want me to?” Eddie laughs awkwardly. “You stopped wanting to do anything. I figured you didn’t want to see me, it was pretty obvious. I was trying to respect your wishes, dude.”
Steve doesn’t know what to say.
Eddie kicks his feet a little while he keeps his eyes pointed down at the parking lot.
“Oh,” Steve’s heart breaks for a different reason this time. “You didn’t do anything, by the way. It’s not your fault. I just needed to focus and get my shit together. My dad bitching about college again and I needed a new job. I was just sort of…distracted.”
By you
“Oh, you coulda said something. This whole time I thought you hated me. That’s a fucking relief.” Steve can sense Eddie’s entire body relax next to him.
“Opposite really,” he mutters under his breath.
“What’d you say?” Eddie leans in, his face shifting to seriousness.
“Oh nothing,” he brushes off. “Ignore me.”
“Opposite?” Eddie’s voice is pitched.
Steve’s stomach drops.
“No-no, um…”
Steve puts his palms on the floor of the van and pushes himself out of the van. He wipes his palms on his jeans. He needs to get out of here.
“I gotta go, uh, it was good seeing you, man. Um,” he wants to suggest hanging out but he can’t say the words. “Bye.”
Steve gives a finger wave and wants to smack himself in the face for how stupid it looks. He power walks away from Eddie’s van toward his car. He can get out of here unscathed.
“NO! Steve! Wait, wait,” Eddie’s chasing close behind Steve.
Steve fumbles with his keys as he tries to unlock his car door.
“Me too!”
Steve stops, his hands hovers over the door handle. Did he hear Eddie correctly?
Eddie approaches cautiously. “Me too,” he repeats quietly. “Opposite. You-that was the thing. The thing I figured out. This was it.”
Steve turns slowly.
“I missed you, Steve.” Eddie’s eyes are big and bright as if someone handed him a Christmas present. “I missed you, more than I should’ve probably. Definitely more than…a friend would.” He shrugs and pulls his bottom lip into his mouth.
Steve’s ears are ringing. The planet has shifted, he’s sure of it. Is Eddie saying what he’s been craving from the man for almost two years?
“Opposite,” Eddie whispers.
“Opposite,” Steve echoes.
“I really wanna kiss you right now,” Eddie says gently.
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up and he stumbles back thunking his elbow against the car window. “Ow, shit.”
“Are you ok?” Eddie steps forward, reaching a hand out but avoiding touching Steve.
“Yeah,” he rubs his hand over it. “Do you-do you wanna come over? My parents aren’t home. Won’t be until Thursday.”
“That’s four days away, Steve. Are you suggesting I’ll be at your house for four days?” He twists his mouth in a sly smirk.
“Maybe, if we needed it.” Steve’s heart is pounding in his chest pleasantly now.
Eddie blushes and ducks his head. Steve can tell the man’s holding himself back.
“You coming?” Steve tilts his head.
“Fuck, I hope so,” Eddie growls.
coffee? ☕️🍩💕
#he definitely does#steddie#steddie fanfic#steve x eddie#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddiecameraroll posts#q#my writing
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